Michael W. Davis
No matter who we are, man or woman, each of us has family members that are anchors in our life. These individuals, in some form or manner, provided mentorship and examples of what it meant to be a responsible caring adult. They also formed the foundation that gave us strength in times of weakness, and love during days of darkness. I just lost my last anchor on my dads side, his sister, Aunt Mary, or as I called her AM. 
I felt compiled to share a little of why she was such an anchor in my world, but in a few paragraphs I can't do justice to the sweet memories she leaves behind. The picture on the right was my father during WWII with my AM. She was the younger of two sisters, but according to dad, they both bossed him around all the time and had to approve all his dates. I do remember AM as leaning toward the bossy side, and with that gravelly voice, we kids had a tendency to listen. Course all my southern aunts and cousins on both sides of the family have always watched over us Davis men with a hawk's eye. The uniform was from the Army Air Corp. He was an air crew chief on a B29 bomber flying in the Pacific. If I recall correctly, Aunt Mary and my mother were friends before she knew dad.
The picture to the left are my mother and AM during that same period heading off to work at the Ammunition plant near where they lived. They were two fine looking women. They would save up for a month so they could take my cousin Ronnie and I with them to get an ice cream at the fountain in town (the pharmacy). 
They would alternate caring for my cousin Ronnie and I sometimes so they could work overtime. The picture to the right is one Aunt Mary will make me pay for eventually, given she's in curlers. Its one of those times AM was watching over her nephew. The little guy, that's me. I never remember her without a cig in her hand. Like my mother, they loved the cancer rods. And crabs, lord those women loved Maryland blue claw crabs. My favorite picture was Mom, Dad, Aunt Mary, and Uncle Reggie at a dance after the war drinking beer and eating crabs. I would share it, but I gave it to my kids so they could remember all of them.
Regardless of our age, when the anchors disappear we are moved, our pillars shaken,our eyes turned blurry, as if our world is not the same, because in truth, its not. They were there in the difficult moments, gave us laughter and direction. With all her eccentricities, AM was one of the angels that watched over me. When my son was born, and I nearly lost him and my wife. AM was there in the hospital beside me, and I've never forgotten those tough moments, with her hugs and kisses. Lord did I love that woman.
I'm sure AM, Mom, Dad and Uncle Reg are again together eating crabs and drinking beer, looking beautiful, young and vibrant as before. Maybe even the real big guy has pulled up a chair. Love you AM, kiss them all for me.
Mike
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