"Unable are the Loved to die For Love is Immortality." --- Emily Dickinson
Another lamentable leave-taking. It was a Monday morning, when I received the word from Angie Miller Jones, the daughter of Larry and Bobbie Brumfield Miller. Her beloved mother had succumbed earlier that morning. Bereavement. But Bobbie was ready. A devout Christian, she walked the walk.
The daughter of Athan and Freddie Brumfield, she and my mother Margie Nell Brumfield Ellzey, the daughter of Thomas Colter "T. C." and Emma Brumfield, were first cousins. With their fathers being brothers, they grew up on adjacent property five miles northeast of Franklinton where the Brumfields homesteaded and farmed.
Just as my Pa-pa was seventeen years senior to his brother Athan, Momma was a generation - twenty-three years - older than Bobbie, but the family was still close. Cousin Bobbie had a treasure trove of memories of my mother, in her youth, that she kindly shared with me. And now, it's my turn to share mine, of her.
Upon the sudden death of an only child's sole surviving parent, all seems lost. But Bobbie Brumfield Miller did not turn a blind eye. n 2011, she reached out to my small family. Her calls came like clockwork, before every holiday - Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, and milestone events. Bobbie's voice reverberated, "The family is getting together, probably in Baton Rouge, and we would like you to join us." My husband Rodney and our daughter Betsy took to them like ducks take to water.
Our kin welcomed us into the fold which is why I waited until I arrived in Boston, in July, to break the news to Betsy that Cousin Bobbie succumbed.
This column comes from the heart, in no small part because Bobbie was family. Angie said her mother loved me, and I loved her. It was A. A. Milne, the English author of Winnie-the-Pooh fame, who wrote, "How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard."
Born in January of 1948 to Athan and Freddie Mae Brumfield, Bobbie was the youngest sister of Sue (Griggs), Jeanette (Cooper), Delores (Jenkins), Tommie Lou (Stafford), Murdock, and Durwood Brumfield. Their childhood, together, on the farm was one to be envied - what my mother admired most was their close-knit nature. She visited frequently with her Uncle Athan Brumfield, in his twilight years, exchanging ancestral stories and family updates. His children cleaved to one another, in adulthood, just as they did in their youth - talking on the telephone every single day, seamlessly sharing news.
Like a band of brothers, the Brumfield children were raised in Centenary Methodist Church, where their great-grandmother Sophronia Brumfield (my great-great-grandmother) was one of the earliest members. And the siblings were educated in Franklinton, where Bobbie graduated from Franklinton High School in 1966, before matriculating at Southeastern Louisiana University.
In 1970 she married her soulmate - Washington Parish native Larry Miller, the son of A. D. and Mildred Crowe. After tying the knot in Tylertown, Mississippi, the newlyweds moved out West while Larry was serving in the U. S. Air Force. Afterwards, the couple returned home to Franklinton, where both worked at Dairymen Incorporated, before ultimately settling in the Baton Rouge area. There, they were entrepreneurs, establishing statewide several successful businesses with a bingo business chief among them. By the time I really met Cousins Bobbie and Larry, they were set, for life.
Cousin Bobbie had a strong work ethic, but she wasn't all work and no play. Similar to her sister Tommie Lou, she was a voracious reader. And she was talented at knitting and crocheting, making pretty afghan blankets for friends and family. Bobbie was also generous, with her time and money. Eschewing all recognition and acknowledgement, she was an anonymous donor to many worthy, charitable causes.
With strong faith, Bobbie steadfastly attended services at her sister Sue's small church. She often recounted for me how her precious young grandson Keiser Jones routinely held the church door for the entire congregation. This tickled Bobbie pink. There was no doubt that she thought Keiser had angels' wings. And Bobbie felt this way about all ten of her grandchildren - they hung the moon.
But, as usual, it was later than we thought. Bobbie departed in late June, much too soon, leaving to cherish her memory her beloved husband of fifty-three years, Larry Miller; children Kristi Braud (Kevin) of Gonzales, Angie Jones (Chad) of Baton Rouge, and Chad Miller (Jess) of Omaha, Nebraska; siblings Sue Griggs, Jeanette Cooper (Will), Delores Jenkins, and Murdock Brumfield (Kira); and grandchildren Matthew (Emily), Michael (Raegan), Tyler, Dalton, Isabella, Keiser, Makalah, Logan, Alex, and Audry; and her puppy dog CoCo.
Always cheerful, Bobbie appreciated the value of everyday pleasures. And her ebullience was infectious. Being with Bobbie reminded me of Mark Twain who wrote, "He was sunshine most always - I mean he made it seem like good weather." And good weather it was, with Bobbie Brumfield Miller. Not just on holidays, but every day. I looked forward to hearing from her.
It seems like yesterday that we last talked on the phone. It was then that I realized how proud Bobbie was to hail from Franklinton. With a penchant for the past, she vividly described to me her precious plate from the 1961 Franklinton Bicentennial - a gift from her neighbor Lynn - that she treasured. From the inflection in her voice, I understood what it signified - home. So, it didn't surprise me at all to learn that Bobbie's service was set in her hometown. From cradle to grave. She was buried with her parents in the Brumfield Cemetery, five miles northeast of town, where our forebears, and her own life, began. I miss Cousin Bobbie already.
