Southern Livin’

“As you all know, people from the South don’t share their peas with just anyone!”

This weekend, I was in Florida visiting my brother and sister-in-law. One of their best friends passed away and the gravesite ceremony was scheduled for Saturday.

Frances Elizabeth Finlay “Beth”. Born April 17, 1940. Passed on June 28, 2020.

I only had the pleasure of meeting Beth one time. It was right after Hurricane Michael. I had driven down to Al and CeCe’s with some essentials. They had no power and were just trying to survive. Beth and Dick lived right down the road and were dealing with their own catastrophes after the hurricane. Dick’s son and his family came to Al and CeCe’s to prepare a meal for them and any neighbors that may need food. I was sitting out on the breezeway when Beth showed up. She walked out the door and I immediately knew I liked her. Smartly dressed in a summer pantsuit, not a hair out of place, and lipstick was perfectly applied. She smiled at me as if she had known me for years.

Throughout the afternoon we talked a little. Not a lot. I actually knew Dick a lot better than Beth but I still felt this connection to Beth that I couldn’t dismiss. I watched her interact with grace and charm. And intelligence. She was one smart lady and I really admired her.

When they all left, I hoped that I would see her again under better circumstances. Unfortunately, that never happened.

Her “Celebration of Life” was held at a small cemetery in the town she had grown up. Her daughter told stories of how Beth had been the tomboy of the family. She had always been the inquisitive one and even broke her arm after falling out of a tree. My admiration grew as I listened to the stories her daughter told.

But then, her daughter’s best friend stood up to speak. This was the true testament of the person Beth was. She told stories of how Beth welcomed her into her home and how Beth was her second mother. She told us how Beth had shown her love and compassion. And she told us how Beth shared meals with her. Including peas. (For those who are not familiar with Southern Peas, the are normally Purple Hull Peas and Zipper Peas.) She said “As you all know, people from the South don’t share their peas with just anyone! Peas take a lot of work. You plant them. You water them. You fertilize them and watch them grow. You pick them. You shell them. You prepare them and you freeze them. There is a lot of work that goes into them!”

As I listed to her, my brother (who was standing behind me) squeezed my arm. He didn’t need to say anything. He had bags of frozen peas waiting for me to take back to Nashville with me. As this woman had described, he and CeCe had put tons of work and love into these peas that they were sending home with me for Jim and me to enjoy.

Love comes in many forms. Beth showed love and compassion to those she met. She was one classy lady filled with love for everyone she met. Her daughter summed it up beautifully at the end of her dedication with a quote from the book The Secret Life of Bees. “And when you get down to it Lily, that’s the only purpose grand enough for a human life. Not just to love – but to persist in love.”

I wish you Godspeed, Beth…..

#southernlivingdontshareyourpeaswithjustanyonelifeisgoodclassy