A Reckoning in Mayberry

Part 13/8 Daisy Now

Before my Nannie Jo died of cancer, we would have what she called "talks". These talks were short during my college days, but lengthened the summer before she passed when I became a babysitter again. Nannie Jo was in theory the babysitter for DJ, but she was unable to fulfill her duties when the chemo and other treatments and cures left her physically unable to take care of a rambunctious four year old. Rather than concede her role, and also so that Zeb and Tabitha could keep working, I agreed to go over and help during the day that summer.

I became Nannie Jo's sounding board and confidante for everything she had left to say that she didn't want to go unsaid before she left this earth. I learned of her loves and losses and her heartaches and triumphs. I learned the heartaches outweighed the triumphs 5 to 1. My Nannie Jo had led a hard life and maybe that's what made her so hard.

"Doesn't matter," she said, "everybody has bad things happen, but you gotta get over it and move on, or just crawl somewhere and die."

She was full of wisdom that summer and advice, some I wasn't so sure she followed herself. She was also honest. I could ask her anything. I wanted to know what it was like to be dying? She answered that it didn't seem real, she didn't believe it was going to happen.

"We're all afraid of death," she said, "Yet we never really believe it will happen, really happen to us. We think that we are the exception."

She was a deep thinker that summer. Coulda been the meds talking.

"I'm lucky," she said.

"How so?" I wanted to know.

"Better to know what's coming. I get to say goodbye to my friends and family. I get to decide who gets my rings. Think of poor Darrell. He woke up that morning thinking about his son about to be born. His son he never got to see. And he didn't get to say bye to Tabitha. Or me. Or his boy."

"Well, when you put it that way. Might be better to know."

"Yeah, the hospice told me that I would get to acceptance. I think I'm getting there."

"Do you think you'll see us from Heaven?" I asked one day, right before the end.

"No, that would be hard."

"Won't you miss seeing DJ grow up, knowing what he's doing, how he's doing?"

"Yes, I'll miss that. But if you saw what was going on here on earth, you'd probably be sad, seeing all the stuff people go through. There's not just happy days. There's struggles and heartaches too. It would be sad if we knew everything going on. Everything that happened. Every story don't end in happily ever after, Daisy."

Turns out, my Nannie Jo was right about that. It's better not to know everything, so that's why this story ends right here. I am going to leave the rest of what happened to people in this story up to your imagination. It's always good to leave people wanting more, said my mentor, Mr. Geoffrey Guthrie. And, another mentor, Miss Bernie Livengood told me to never tell all my secrets.

I'll tell you this much. Both Sienna and Magdalena finally made it to New York City. One of them lives and works there, and one came to visit. I will let you guess which is which. If you really want to know what happened to Zeb and Tabitha, and Sienna and Emmie Bell and Magdalena and her mom and baby sisters, and me and all my boy friends, and my mom and Nana Gail and the Sheriff, you can probably look us all up online and find out. I do want you to know that I did grow up, and I think I turned out ok and so did all my friends. We are all alright. And yes, I did find love eventually and it was everything it promised to be. I will give you a hint about him - we were probably meant to be together all along. Sometimes you don't see what's right in front of you.

My Nana Gail said it best: "We waste a lot of time on earth trying to bend God's will to our own. Best to leave Him in charge."

As for my story about what happened in my town, I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope you learned all the lessons, especially that - things are not always as they appear.

This was the more of my story. This was my part of the story about what happened after that summer when the truth about what was really happening in my little town tried to come to the surface. You may have read the stories already or saw the news, but no one knows the entire truth. This was a story about good and evil and love and hate. This was not a story where evil was black and good was white.

Nothing is pure, sometimes things are gray. But I will let you decide.