Legend has it that the Earp brothers and their friend Doc Holliday spotted members of the Clanton-McLaury gang buying supplies in Tombstone, Arizona. Apparently they had an axe to grind because the ensuing gunfight left three dead and three wounded, including Holliday. The local sheriff charged the Earps and Holliday with murder, but a Tombstone judge declared the men "fully justified in committing these homicides." Go figure.
Theodore Roosevelt, Hillary Clinton, Keith Urban and Mollie Brown (the unsinkable philanthropist) all entered the world on this day.
And so did my granddaughter, Olivia Grace McWilliams. Today she turns three, and I daresay her colorful personality rivals that of any of the individuals listed above. Let's just say she knows how to work a room, not to mention her grandmother. Her spunk, feistiness, friendliness, and independent streak remind me of her great grandmother, Zaidee Mildred Watson Brittain, daughter of Hilliard Watson and Mildred Holliday Watson -- And yes, there is a connection to Doc, but my genealogy is fuzzy.
You see, Zaidee loved lots of things, but she especially loved to sing and dance. From ballet and tap to waltz and two-step, she was always happiest when life included a dance. I am more subdued when it comes to dancing in public, but like Zaidee, Olivia loves to dance, and she dreams of the day she can begin ballet lessons. Meanwhile, any time she has an opportunity to perform, especially when a stage is involved, she is in her element.
After a long battle with Alzheimer's, Zaidee passed away on Sept. 4. Shortly after a wonderful memorial service on Sept. 8, Olivia led me back into the church sanctuary. Everyone else was in the large foyer visiting and reminiscing, so just Olivia, a sound technician, and I were in the huge room. She walked me to the front of the church and showed me to a seat on the front row, and then she proceeded up the steps to the pulpit area. Since there was music, she did what came naturally to her. She danced.
After her impromptu performance, she walked back down the steps and came to where I was obediently sitting--and applauding.
"It's your turn now," she announced, smiling at me expectantly, as if dancing in the pulpit area of a Southern Baptist Church after one's mother-in-law's funeral were the most natural thing in the world.
"Oh honey, I can't do that," I said softly, hating to deny my only granddaughter's sincere wish.
"Try it. You might like it," she smiled, capitalizing on her version of peer pressure.
I shook my head no, but I knew I was in trouble.
Then she took my hand, smiled, and in her sweetest coax said, "I know. Let's both do it together?"
So, I did the only thing I could possibly do. I stood up, followed her up the stairs, and we danced. In front of the empty Baptist sanctuary and the sound technician. After my mother-in-law's memorial service.
I'm sure Zaidee is still laughing about that one. Truthfully, I am, too.
And I can't wait to follow this little girl's timeline. It's certain to be as impressive as those of any of her predecessors.
Oh and by the way, have a spectacular third birthday, sweet Olivia.
Oh and by the way, have a spectacular third birthday, sweet Olivia.
