In memory of Bubba Newsom...
(x-posted from myspace and syndicate)
I just got back from a funeral, and it gave me a lot to think about, and not just the usual "Oh how sad when everyone's grieving" type stuff.
The funeral was that of Billy "Bubba" Newsom, who was 86 years old. I was admittedly already crying before I left the house... He was exactly what everyone should want to be when they reach 86.
I met Bubba one of my first days at the bar, and I remember how funny (funny-amusing-and-endearing, not funny-haha) I thought it was to see an 86-year-old man sitting at the bar, drinking screwdrivers and dancing to the band. And then I got to know him, and I danced with him. He was a perfect gentleman, even when I was drunk and on high heels and had even less rhythm than usual. And he danced to EVERYTHING. From Creedence Clearwater Revival to Van Morrison to Nelly... he did it all. I remember the stupid little hookers that wouldn't dance with him because they thought he was too old, and it makes me laugh to think that they'll never know one of the neatest and most blessedly loving people in the world because they were so ridiculous.
Bubba WAS love. On my birthday, which is the picture at the top of this page, he brought me a fifth of Dewar's. On Christmas, he brought pecans. Anytime I was there to drink, he bought me at least one.
And today one of the men who spoke brought up his laugh. Bubba had an unforgettable laugh, and he shared it with everyone. He loved Mississippi State, and I loved to give him hell about it too. I remember him telling me his nephew was going into journalism there, and I told him that was great, but that he was going to get his ass handed to him by some Ole Miss grad when the chips were down. And Bubba laughed and laughed.
He came to the school on Veteran's Day and spoke of his time in the service, and he had tears in his eyes. I don't really know the story, but he only ever married once, and as I understand it, he loved her until he died three days ago.
They spoke today about how Bubba was the embodiment of love. I remember one time I apologized to him because I had gotten mouthy with a vulgar, insulting man who was sitting next to him. "Bubba," I had said, "I'm so sorry for being ugly to your friend, but he wasn't very polite."
And Bubba laughed and said, "I've known him for a long time, Red, but I don't think of him as a friend. He's just... well, HIM." And then he laughed at what I had said to the guy. And I was really glad they weren't friends, because anyone Bubba loved was someone I wanted to love too.
Nothing I can say here will do him justice. He loved Jesus with his whole heart, and he was a patriot to the end. One time I made a comment about being the last George W. Bush supporter on earth, and he winked at me and said, "Not the last." But that's really all he said because a gentleman doesn't discuss politics or religion in a social setting.
There are so few people made like that anymore. The Beattitudes tell us, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." And I know Bubba is sitting with God right now, laughing and talking MSU football.
And like Scarlet's death of just a few weeks ago, it puts things back in line. Sometimes I swear it's only the good people that die, but I know that really, it's only the good people that we mourn. And Bubba lived such an amazing life, and had a blast until the very end. They say only the good die young, and you could argue that Bubba didn't die young -- 86 is a pretty good age. But he was young at heart. Those who love as freely and openly as Bubba never grow old.
When I got home, I found my cell phone where I accidentally left it when I left for the funeral, and I had two text messages from a dear, dear friend who is having a tragedy that I can't even write about, and I just question why things happen like they do, but then I have to remember the lines of a song I have loved since I was a child, "The God whose power has made the sun to rise has made His covenant with me." And that's comfort like no other if you tune out the bitterness of the unfairness of life. God sees us, and he knows us, and if He sees the sparrow fall, he sees all our griefs.
I can live with that. Hopefully I can live like Bubba.