A Secret (In A Blog of Secrets)

I have a secret vice. Since this blog is the place where I tell all my secrets, I will tell you. It’s The Waltons. Not Sam Walton and the empire of Bentonville, Arkansas. The TV Show. I know what you’re thinking. The Waltons? Yes. The Waltons. I watched it as a child growing up, and I still watch it every chance I get.

I watch it mostly because my childhood was nothing like that, and there is a part of me that wishes desperately that it was. It’s my dream of what life should be. It’s my centering point. My compass.

As a child, I decided I wanted to marry a man just like Zebulon Walton (Grandpa). I’m still looking for him. William is pretty darn close, but without the endlessly laughing eyes and the joyous embracing of life and all that it held.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about the Baldwin sisters. Miss Mamie and Miss Emily. You remember the Baldwins? The two sweet little old maiden ladies who lived in a fine old house and made bootleg whiskey which they called “The Recipe”? I adore the Baldwin ladies. They are unfailingly kind and generous. They embrace life. They love each other and care for each other tenderly. They welcome people into their home like they were just sitting there doing nothing but waiting for them to drop by.

I wish we could all be a little more like that.

So tonight, I’m aspiring to be a little more like the Baldwin ladies. Not to make moonshine, mind you, but to try to be kind and gracious to everyone who crosses my path. To think the best of everyone until I have absolute reason not to. To be kind and warm and endlessly hospitable.

They had good hearts, those ladies did. And I want that. I want to look at my heart and see nothing but love.

Lily