I’ve often heard it said that there are angels among us. The county music group, Alabama, even wrote a song about them. Over the years I’ve been blessed to encounter a few. Sometimes I didn’t realize that I was in their presence until they were gone. Other times I knew it right away.

There is one I’ve known for a long time. One of my first memories of her was when I went to her home on Pontotoc Street and she pushed me on her backyard swing for what seemed like hours. It was one of those tall swings with long chains that seemed to lift you halfway to the stars before pulling you back to earth. She seemed to never tire of spending time with me.

Shortly after that memory she began to have children of her own. Her first born was a son three years younger than me. We grew up together, and when I wasn’t at his house, he was at mine. The brown eyed angel treated me like one of her own even after the arrival of two more children. -Daughters.

She was there for my bride and me when we became engaged and threw us a shower. She was never one to inject herself into my life, but she was always quietly nearby.

In the 70s when my father became terminally ill she often drove him from Louisville to Jackson for his chemo treatments. She was kind and thoughtful that way. I don’t know what we would have done without the help of this special angel and others.

She perfected the art of making coffee. When I became a java fan I soon learned she had a gift. She once said, “You have to love coffee to know how to make a good cup.” I’ve had a lot of good coffee during my six decades here on planet earth, but none equaled hers.

When I grew up and moved away she made it perfectly clear that her door would always be open to me. I’ve never been one to plan my trips, but that never bothered her. If I knocked on her door any time of day or night she always opened it and was glad to see me. I knew I was in the presence of love when I was with her.

Several months ago her health began to fail, and she went to stay with her daughters in Jackson. As it turned out all of her children became angels, too. I’ve had to watch from afar as they doted over her during these many months as she slowly slipped away. I cannot begin to express my admiration for them. She was shown limitless love and care during her illness, but that’s what angels deserve, isn’t it? - To be shown the love they have shown to others while they walked among us.

This morning my angel, my Aunt Joyce Foster, left this earth to go to her heavenly home. I will miss her immensely. When I go back to my hometown I’ll no longer be able to knock on her door and see those twinkling brown eyes and bright smile. From now on there will be a large void in my life each time I go back home.

But on the other hand, I know what I’ve got to look forward to when my time here is over. I’m certain one of the first people I’ll see at the door of heaven will be Joyce. She’ll still have that twinkle in her eye. She’ll hug me, pull me inside and ask me to tell her what all I’ve been up to. And I’m sure there will be a fresh pot of coffee brewing.

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Rick Algood
June 13, 2016