A weed like wisp of a
woman she was and all at once she stood there before them, thoroughly
Native American. The chiselled features of her facial zygomatic bones
attested to this. Her hair she had chopped so short at her mother's death
was again long and twisted at the back of her neck. The McDonald blood was
only a print upon her genes, which she might feel and probably did not
Her long dress was softly
gathered. There was a muted blue background and small white roses in the
design of it. All along the bottom was a four-inch strip of lace and it
had sharp points in the bordered design. It was as if her long forgotten
Scottish great grandfather's blood had to emerge in some way and this was
in her dress.
“Aren't we strange
people?” She was smiling broadly. “We come up here to the cemetery.” “We
cry over our graves together.” “We exchange gifts, like Christmas.” “We
visit and laugh and talk, just after we have cried.”
As if to seal her words a
mockingbird zoomed across the space in a most bold and intrusive way. The
tree where the bird had her nest was small and had to be totally of the
strongest variety of elm in order to have survived the dry clay soil and
occasional fires to sweep across the very old cemetery marked with the
date 1890 on the front gate.
The phone was ringing as
Dee pushed through the front door. “Hey girl!” She answered and heard the
voice of a friend. She admired the woman so much. “I'm thrilled to hear
“Well, I'm comin' out.”
Her friend laughed in her hearty way.
“Come on out!” “I'm so
thrilled you have remembered me.”
“Misty!” “Guess what!”
“We are having company.” Dee spoke to her daughter in the wheel chair.
“Oh wow!” Misty and the
whole family loved the ways of the beautiful woman they knew was a fine
friend to them all.
Her friend stepped from
her car and her leggy tall build always gave her a striking appearance.
Her long red hair that was as curly as any girl on a Scottish calendar
made Dee wonder if there was a reason she was to visit with two women in
the same day who had such strong Scottish blood. As much as the other
woman earlier had been Native American this woman was American but with
such a strong Scottish look it was impossible not to see it.
The women walked about the
grounds digging a start of this or that plant. “I can't believe you are
getting involved with plants.” Dee commented to her.
“It is my new passion!”
“For some reason I just have started a real love for working in my yard.”
“I've found it to be so relaxing and enjoyable.”
“Isn't it?” “Oh yes, I can
do nothing but agree.” Dee told her. “I've worked around in this old red
clay for a life time and I never tire of it.”
The journal the woman
carried with her was full of notes, pictures and sketches of what she was
doing with her yard. Sketches of beds she had set with found cut stone
looked quite impressive.
“These are violets.” “They
have a beautiful small lavender bloom.” “Martha Stewart uses them to
decorate cakes after she has frosted them in the most beautiful way.”
“The leaves are very good in salads and are high in Vitamin C.” “If you
put them in a shady spot with very rich soil the leaves become lush and
very large like these here.”
After the women had walked
and thinned plants for a time they both were ready to relax under the
shade of the grape arbor. Water splashed over the rocks of the fountain
and somehow the sound of it always gave a pleasant relaxing moment to the
guests who joined Dee and her daughter. While they sipped iced raspberry
tea the two women and Misty, enjoyed the peaceful afternoon.
As usual with the two the
conversation turned to the history of Scotland. “Have you had time to
read of your ancestors in Scotland?” Dee asked her friend.
“You know, I'm sorry to
say, I have not.”
“My! My!” “You really
should.” “You will be so pleasantly surprised.”
“Well, to be honest with
you I have been reading much about the tribes, their beliefs and such.”
“In fact I'm putting a collection of things together I've learned.”
“I'll show you one of these days.”
“I would love to see it.”
Dee was truly interested.
“You would have to see
it.” “It has much too much to just tell you about.”
“You had a grand family in
Scotland.” “Many, many wonderful things they did.” “I do hope you will
read about them”
“Hmm.” “Well!” “Really?”
“I just must do that.”
The two women spoke of the
Highlands of Scotland. They talked of the televison show called The
Highlander and how it portrayed the immortals. Of course, the subject of
angels, good and bad, came up.
As the cool breezes of the
late afternoon began to tell evening was approaching they had to break
away from the very nice time they all three enjoyed.
“Don't be a stranger!”
“Come again and soon.” Dee was sincere. The woman was so incredibly
intelligent and it was almost as if Dee was seeing her friend's
ancestor's intelligence alive and walking with her in the way of their
strong genes she carried.