The Lady I Want to Be

IMG_4994Sam and I went to a funeral this week for one of my best yoga students.

She died on Tuesday at age 98. So Sam and I hopped in the truck at dawn and drove back to windy West Texas where the mesquite and post oaks grow.

I met Aline Garrett when she was 92, after I decided to offer a “chair yoga” class to the ladies who live in the local senior apartments. I wrote about it in 2011. 

I had no idea what I was doing teaching yoga to people who may have been alive during World War I, so at our first class, as six slow-moving, Texas farm-wives gathered around, ready to learn yoga, I said,

“Does anybody have medical issues I should know about?”

They looked at each other and immediately I thought: Oh man what did I just say, we only have an hour.

92-year-old Aline, with her grey hair wound into a tiny bun atop her head, thought on it a minute, then held up her right index finger and said,

“My finger is crooked.” Then she giggled.

With that one comment Aline Garrett set the tone for the class forever. We met twice a week and she never missed one. Soon, I started calling her Ms. G and decided, if I get to be 98, I want to be just like her.

In fact, I want to be like her at 43.


At the funeral home on Thursday, her family sat behind one screened in area, as a Bluegrass trio sang hymns from behind another.

Old-fashioned decorum is alive and well in West Texas farm towns, and it pleased me to think Ms. G was probably bluegrass before bluegrass was cool. I found myself nodding again and again as her 34-year-old Church of Christ pastor shared, with deep knowing, all the things that were great about her.

Without hyperbole or preacher theatrics, he compared her to the Apostle Paul.

I have learned to be content regardless of my circumstances. I know how to live humbly, and I know how to abound. I am accustomed to any and every situation—to being filled and being hungry, to having plenty and having need, and I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. Philippians 4:11-13

Seriously, that is no small thing, but I think she would have just smiled and shook her head.

I remember sitting with Ms. G at her daughter Aletha’s house, which sat across a big coastal field from ours.

June 2010 103

This was probably a tornado, but that’s not the point.

We were shelling peas at the kitchen counter, when Ms. G began to talk about the Great Depression, and how for Christmas one year, she and her siblings each got an onion.

“Oh and we were happy to have it,” she said.

When she was in her 80’s she flew on an airplane for the first time. She said they gave her a bottle of champagne, announced it over the PA and let her see the cockpit. “Now that was high cotton,” she said clapping her hands and smiling.

Both events seemed to delight her equally.

May 2010 033

Norma (left) and Ms. G. in Warrior II.

In the few years I knew her, I never heard Ms. G say a negative thing about a person or event. Ever. If people were speaking negatively around her, she would look at her hands and sit quietly.

She also loved to read, but when we met she was going blind. Rather than mope and complain about that, she began to memorize long passages of scripture, so she would always have it, even if she couldn’t see it.

Some of her buddies, who were mine too from yoga class, came to the funeral. Although, I haven’t seen them in five years, they treated me like I’d only been on vacation. Bernice squeezed me for a very long time.


Betty, me and Bernice

This is also how I want to be in the world. Because if you’ve ever mattered to me, you probably still do, despite space and time. Ms. G was like that. She never forgot anybody.

Later,  we gathered at Durwood and Aletha’s for coffee at 4 in the afternoon, just like we used to. There were a pile of new great-grandkids playing in the living room and people rocking in chairs.

Despite having lived in that old farmhouse across the field for only two years, I can think of few places where Sam and I are as woven into family and community as we are in Gorman, Texas. I didn’t realize how precious that is.

Aletha, who is her mother’s daughter to the bone, said to me through tears as we hugged goodbye, “Mother would have loved this, because this is the stuff that matters.”


9 thoughts on “The Lady I Want to Be

  1. Aline Garrett was the sweetest lady anyone could ever know – she always had a smile – even when she couldn’t “see” she could recognize. You are correct when you say Aletha is truly her Mother’s daughter.

  2. I love this story so much, and I loved Granny Garrett so much! I told my sister-in -law Cheryl B the other day she always greeted me with a smile and treated me like I had been around in the family forever. Great woman and a great story, thank you

  3. I think you are a fabulous writer Erin Quirk Kirk…and I hope you are writing and working on a novel. It would be well received and sell like hotcakes!! I love your style and honesty.

  4. Hi Erin, Sorry to hear ’bout your friend Mrs. G.  She sounded like a very “special” Lady. You look marvelous!!!  You are wearing Life exceedingly well. I have finally retired from Aflac(10-2015),  do not miss it as I thought.  Love living back in sunny So. California.  Still have my cell # from Michigan.  In 37 days I will be marrying the man I should have married 45 years ago. Yes, we got engaged the 1st time on my birthday in ’71.  I broke it off – our arrogant egos were in the way. We tried it again in ’80, I was more ready, he wasn’t quite there, so we parted again.  We reconnected in 2011 and slowly evolved our relationship, now we are completely Christ-centered and evenly yoked. I am wildly happy, excited, sassy and completely contented. We have so much to be grateful for. Take Care My Friend, SharonHave an Extraordinary Day, Sharon Lee Te’uila Sutis | Cell: 586.212.0287| Fax: 714.841.9824

  5. Alines’
    Mother and my Mother were sisters! Thank you for writing! She was a truly wonderful person! Dorothy Hancock Barfield

  6. How did I miss this post? It’s so beautiful it made me cry. Isn’t it amazing the things we learn from our yoga students?! Love, love, love.

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