Missing Ms. Kozy

For the last few years of her life, Marie and I were privileged to have Marie’s mom, Kozetta Hensley, live with us in our home. Let me tell you about the Ms. Kozy I knew. Ms. Kozy would tell me and anyone else who came to visit that she was just an ole country girl. She liked fried taters, soup beans, and cornbread. She liked to watch Little House on the Prairie, and she was a believer in living life according to the old ways. And when I look around at today’s world, I’m pretty sure she was mostly right. The Kozy I knew was loyal to her family. She was constantly telling stories about her family, whether it was her mother and father, brothers and sisters, or her husband and children. Speaking of children, when a child would come on the television or if someone brought their child with them when they visited, Ms. Kozy’s eyes would light up and she would hug the child and talk to them (give her a few minutes and she would want to give that same child a “whoopin’… lol). The Kozy I knew lived a long and often difficult life. I’m sure her life was more difficult than I realize, but her difficult life made Ms. Kozy a survivor. It gave her the ability to face whatever was in front of her and persevere. Whether it was the untimely and unexpected deaths of her two sons, Nub and Estil, colon cancer, the death of her husband, Wade, or some other challenge, Ms. Kozy faced those challenges head-on and pushed through them to the other side. For the most part, the Kozy I knew had the ability to take the lemons given to her in life and turn them into lemonade. The Kozy I knew faced her last challenge, the dementia that ravaged her mind during her later years, with as much courage as she could muster. That dementia made it challenging at times for Marie and me and I’m sure it was even more challenging for Ms. Kozy. However, I am thankful we were able to provide Ms. Kozy with a safe place to live out her last years and honor her wish not to have to go to a nursing home. Ms. Kozy was tough, loyal, country to the core, and she was my friend. I loved her, and I already miss her more than I even realized I would. Rest in peace, Ms. Kozy . . . we will be along shortly.

Be blessed and go be a blessing . . . Bro. Andy