For Josie

Josephine Clapp Osbun

Who Wants a Bloody?

Here I sit with an amazing group of women who have been friends now for over 80 years. I am honored to join them at the table as Anita’s daughter, an onlooker from another world.

Josie, the hostess of the luncheon, starts off, “Who wants a Bloody?”  Although disappointed that the establishment doesn’t have a liquor license, she graciously settles for wine. Anita, when asked for her choice of drink, finally says with a laugh, “Oh, hell, just give me white wine.” Upon being served a spicy meal, Josie refers to it as having “authority-- but not too much.”

When talking of their friend Ruthie, they share the common amazement of her personality change since acquiring dementia. “She’s so pleasant now.” (Except for one incident when Ormond was leaving and said she’d be back upon which Ruthie retorted, “That’ll be the day!”) Everyone agrees, “That’s the old Ruthie; there’s no one quite like Ruthie.” Ruthie has been a force to be reckoned with by friends and family her 80+ years until her mind left her. The pregnant pause of reflection says much more than words.

World War II days are brought up as Josie and Dot proudly recall time spent in the labs which developed DDT. Today I learn that DDT helped “win the War in the Pacific” and won a Peace Prize shortly thereafter. Dot recalls the miracle of DDT in the South winning the war on mosquitoes and roaches. Her dachshund was flea-bitten until Dot put her in a bag (tied with only her head showing) with DDT in it and shook it all over her dog. (Now I know where the Shake and Bake concept of the 60’s was born.) No more fleas! “DDT was a miracle until it was overused.”

“We won the War! Women always win the war!”  declares Josie who speaks for women who grew up in the deep South in the 20’s, married, had babies, stayed at home with their children, ran civic organizations, played bridge, never heard of feminism, nevertheless have been exercising their innate resourcefulness as women have through the ages.

“The interesting thing in the 80’s,” says Josie, “is that you never know when you wake up in the morning which parts will be working. My thumb just quit working this week. I’ll have to have some kind of operation….” Then, as all gave a knowing nod, she continues, “But we’re still here! Here’s to us and here’s to those who can’t be here.” (Toasts rise to the ceiling at this point.) “They’re probably listening in just the same, and they probably remember more than we can, wherever they are.”

Josie and Anita--Delaware

Josie and Anita -Little Tybee

Josie and Sandy West--Ossabaw

Written on August 8, 2008, as a journal entry to capture a sacred moment in time filled with spirit and deep affection. Shared now in grateful acknowledgement to my mother’s best and life-long friend, Josie, and the color she has added to all our lives. As we now raise our glasses, may we know that she is most  assuredly “ listening in just the same.”

Margaret L. Clay

March 3, 2012