Couch Time
This is 3/5 of the Reid Gerdes Family.
June 8, 2008
April 17, 2008
Looking for a few good homes
As you all know, my mom has a lot of cats. And dogs. A lot of them. So I am trying to find a few good homes for some of these little guys to help ease the burden off of her. If anyone you know is looking for a cat or a dog, please have them email me at ericareid(at)gmail(dot)com or leave a comment below, and I can help match the person with their new best friend. Then I'll road trip it down to MS to take the little boogers wherever they need to go.
Thank you so much! Even if we find homes for 2 kitties, it will be an amazing help.
April 11, 2008
Call for help
Hi Friends,
Please keep my mother, Tricia Reid, in your thoughts and prayers right now. We need all the help we can get. You have all been an amazing support system for us over the last several years, but unfortunately, we are not in the clear yet.
Much love to all.
February 4, 2008
Happy Birthday Mama!!
Happy birthday to my sweet and wonderful mama! You are my inspiration, my hero, and the strongest person I know. Happy birthday!
February 3, 2008
HAPPY BIRTHDAY FUZZY!!
Happy birthday to my best friend, my big R, the love of my life, my sweet sweet husband. Thank you for everything that you are. I love you.
January 30, 2008
My awesome cousin
Check out this amazing article about my cousin Joey. It was the front page of the Sunday paper in my hometown. I am so proud of him!
January 25, 2008
I live in the sweetest house ever
The other day, I walked into the living room, and found this:
Seriously?! Can you get any more precious than that? Man, I love Fuzzy and Mustapha, and they love each other.
But come on, guys, look at this--isn't this the sweetest thing you've ever seen? Extreme close up!
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
December 22, 2007
Happy Birthday, Christopher!!
31 looks great on you! You have taught me so much (and continue to!), and I am honored to be your little sister. I love you.
December 11, 2007
My Heroes
My sweet Mama and Daddy at Thanksgiving.
Thank you to all for your loving words and sympathy.
Christopher, Mom, and Fuzzy are keeping better records of recent events, if you would like to keep up there. I am not as good of a poster as they are, but I do what I can.
Boy I miss my Dad. It is so hard to believe he is gone. But I know he is having a grand ole time up in Heaven, rocking out with family, old friends, and some of his favorite musicians. And Big J, of course.
Look after us, Daddy. We love you and miss you.
Editorial
Yesterday, in the Vicksburg Evening Post, the paper's editor, Charlie Mitchell- who is a longtime family friend- wrote this wonderful tribute:
Remember David Reid, who never lost the melody
We met in elementary school.
After those days our encounters were rare and brief. They came at predictable intervals as we aged, in grocery store aisles, at back-to-school nights for our own children, reunions.
Exchanges with David Reid always went past, "Hi, how are you? Fine and you? Fine." He always had something wry, something personal, something sincere to say.
David made an impression, a good impression. He was consistently upbeat.
It was good that the Post had David on the front page a few weeks ago, "outing" him to the world for what was probably the most outlandish deed of his life. David was one of four Hinds Community College commuters from Vicksburg who in 1973 carved, in giant letters, "Remember Duane Allman" into an earthen wall along the then-new Interstate 20 near Bovina. Prompting the
news story was a performance in Vicksburg by Gregg Allman, brother of the legendary guitarist who had been killed in a 1971 motorcycle wreck.
The carved memorial lasted for years, becoming an icon to I-20 travelers. Gregg told David and his co-conspirators the family had seen photos and appreciated the gesture. That meant a lot.
Anybody who knows anything about music--and David knew a lot about music--will tell you that Duane Allman, though a rocker's rocker, always kept the melody, never lost it to the noise.
And so it was with David.
He was keenly intelligent, with an excellent memory, but he didn't care whether anyone knew it or not. Impressing others wasn't something he desired to do. David was as casual as the Hawaiian shirts and wide-brimmed hats that were his stock-in-trade.
He and his classmate, Tricia, equally smart and warm in her friendships, formed a marital partnership in which they derived pleasure from being considerate of one another. Money didn't matter. Having a posh house didn't matter. Having the newest car didn't matter. What other people thought, did, cared about or worried about didn't matter. People mattered. Relationships
mattered.
Together, David and Tricia infused their ideals into their children, Erica and Christopher, talented and creative children who have become talented and creative adults. The Reids equipped their daughter and son with roots and wings the way great parents do--a grounding in values plus decency plus a yearning to explore, learn, serve.
Word that David had cancer came years ago. Tricia, an Internet blogger before that term was even invented, wrote about it the same as she had everything else. Both were realistic, prayerful, confident, scared, accepting the challenge. What choice did they have?
They won a hell of a lot of battles, but, as the cliche goes, not the war.
Just a few weeks ago, a backache sent David to the doctor. It wasn't a pulled muscle. It was another malignancy. The verdict: David would die in a matter of weeks.
They say hospice nurses are compassionate, which would be expected. But they're also pretty seasoned. After David's nurse had her first private meeting with him, telling him how things would go, I'm told she left the room in tears.
The end came last Sunday night just as forecast, family and friends all there. A free spirit became free.
Encounters with people like David Reid are brief and rare. When they happen, listen for the melody. They've learned to sustain it through the noise.
-- Charlie Mitchell is executive editor of The Vicksburg Post. Write to him
at Box 821668, Vicksburg, MS 39182, or e-mail post@vicksburg.com.