I need your ear tonight, mon ami-a real one may be going home to meet her Maker, one Mrs. Belva, or mom, or Becky’s mom, or Miss Belva (my favorite), and she needs prayers from everyone all over this world. All our prayers would still be half the amount she has said for us over the years.
You see, Miss Belva is a rare one, so rare that when you do find someone of her nature, it leaves you with a feeling you never forget. She has a way of making you feel wholly and completely loved and her good nature rubs off on you. You matter, she listens, she cares, and you can be vulnerable without feeling like it’s dangerous. Isn’t that what people who love you should do? You feel cared for, genuinely and enthusiastically, and after my own mother died in Sept 2000, Miss Belva stepped in and gave me the support I needed. At that dark time in my life she was a ray of sunlight I could see through the sludge; you know what I mean, that grief that is so thick it tastes like copper on your tongue. My mouth tasted like copper for two years straight.
I have so many good memories of Mrs. Bishop that I’ll always treasure, and I want to share one with you. She is funny as hell, with a wit so quick you have to balance on your toes, and good LORD could that woman cook. I loved sneaking through her kitchen to get to Becky’s room and grabbing a little bit of what she’d be making, and it was always southern food. Southern food that makes you miss living in the south for sure. These are the memories that will stay in my heart. Always.
The story I want to share with you tonight about Miss Belva is when the stomach flu got me while I was spending the night at her house. Lord, let me tell you something, getting the stomach flu while you’re spending the night at your best friend’s house is the freaking WORST. Especially when your best friend has an Irish twin brother who always brought home his friends to spend the night, oh and also they shared a bathroom that had two doors into and shower and my anxiety would peak come shower or shitting time and…okay, you get the point right? Good, now follow me…
I woke up at about 2 in the morning, dead ass crack of night, and I immediately knew something was not exactly right. I lay in the bed listening to the sounds of my friend’s room, feeling increasingly queasy and wet mouthed. I always know when it’s a-gonna blow when the mouth starts to flow *Jimmy Buffett reference, did you see it!?* and that night, sure enough, I was sicker than a dog. Getting sick at someone else’s house besides your own is one of the top 10 things that are truly awful. Miss Belva made me feel like I was at home with my own mom with washcloths on my forehead and help with Gatorade sips, and like the genius she is, she even had Zofran to help me stop vomiting. All night long she was in and out of Becky’s room, checking on me and getting me whatever I needed, and in the morning she made sure I got home. She is, and always will be, my hero.
Miss Belva is a fighter, a warrior, and a fierce protector of the people she loves, and I’m not counting her out tonight. I know it’s dark, and I know it might be time yet I have hope because I’ve seen you beat things worse than death, Miss Belva. You’ve helped me beat worse things than death, Miss Belva. Death fears YOU.
I love you more than words could ever convey, and I know Becky and your man, Mr. Gary, are holding your hand and talking to you while you dance with whatever waits for you. I can’t be there, but I’m talking to you. All I taste is copper in my mouth tonight and tears, all these tears, and if it is your time, I know you’ll tell mom I miss her and love her- and I’ll see y'all soon.