Kitty Will Be Missed

My heart is so heavy tonight after hearing about the death of Kitty Wells. Driving in the car, I switched on the radio and the announcer was talking about Kitty's life. "Oh cool!" I chirped, turning up the volume as I did a little dance in my seat. It was then that I realized that he was talking about her in the past tense.  Tears welled up in my eyes as the audio piece ended with her date of death.  I couldn't breathe for a minute. I'd never before lived in a world where Kitty was past tense. I still can't bear to think about it. One left turn of the car and then a right would take me past her house, but I couldn't bear to do so.

I can't put my finger on it but my love for Kitty crosses over from music appreciation into a realm where she felt like family to me. I remember as a girl, realizing that she had the same drawl that I did and though she didn't belt it out, she got her heart across in every single line. Quite often, her songs were very melancholy but sweet - like when a good friend tells you a story about her life that makes you love her more than you did five minutes ago. She has always reminded me of my own strong, lovely and vivacious female relatives and with her beautiful ranch house nearby, she actually did feel like family. Or at least a neighbor.

The Mister and I would always discuss fantastic plans when we drove past her house - how one day we'd stop and ring her doorbell and just say hello. Maybe we'd even plan it in advance and take along some of her records and a big plate of cookies to prove to her that we cared. But we never did. We just drove past her house time after time, telling only ourselves what a treasure she was. And so she died, right there in that very home with family around her as it should be.

She was and always will truly be one of my role models, idols and imaginary coffee klatch partners. I'm sending lots of love out to Miss Kitty tonight. I'm sure that she's gone on to meet with her husband Johnnie and their daughter Ruby up there on the great big ole front porch in the sky. She will be missed.











Until next time,
x's and o's,
Eartha