Polly Moore died five years ago, and she is missed by so many. The last time she came to my house for lunch, she gifted me a gorgeous pewter ice scoop that I kept with my ice bucket. Every time I entertained I thought of Polly as I plunged the pretty little tool in the ice. But I don’t entertain that often, and I decided I wanted to use it more often. And so I do. I scoop birdseed with it from the large glass canister, and I think of Polly regularly.
Polly Moore was a doodle, and so much fun to be around. Among other things, she was a lover of the meat-and-three, and could tell you at the drop of a hat which local restaurants served the best turnip greens and where to get the best meatloaf ever. Most of these restaurants weren’t trendy, and a few were downright suspect. But I guarantee the proprietors both knew and adored Polly Moore.
She made the humdrum seem hilarious, and her tales of everyday events made everyone fortunate enough to have heard them feel a little lighter.
Polly fell through the attic shortly after she moved into her new house near the 11th tee in Riverview. To hear her tell it, it was a Lucille Ball-like episode, with her stepping onto insulation instead of flooring and falling all the way through the ceiling onto the dining room table. I think she said something about hanging upside down from the chandelier with her dress over her head just before dinner guests were to arrive. But I know for a fact that fall was terrifying, and she was injured.
Polly had her share of health problems, especially during the last several years. She had open-heart surgery a few years before she died, a terrifying prospect. But her account of the “most dangerous of the open-heart surgeries” was injected with her humor. “All your vitals are transferred to individual machines. You are more like a ‘Clean Slate Frankenstein’ that they work on and then they have to put everything back just right afterwards. I am blessed with wonderful doctors, wonderful friends, my beautiful family and I have good insurance. There are a lot of people out there that are not so blessed. So my prayers go out for them. I will let you know what happens next. I am sure it will be interesting,” she said.
This vivacious, fun-loving woman was beloved by so many. Called kind, inclusive, loving and a great friend, she loved her boys, Wes and David, and her grandchildren deeply. A self-proclaimed low techie, Polly was challenged by Facebook, but one look at her page reveals much about her. Over and over the exact same picture of Wes and David pops up on her feed, and it is clear that she wanted to make darn sure she got it posted.
Polly was a rare doodle – hilarious, kind, and generous, consistently making life more fun for all around her. I know heaven is much more interesting with her in it.
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Ferris Robinson is the author of three children’s books, “The Queen Who Banished Bugs,” “The Queen Who Accidentally Banished Birds,” and “Call Me Arthropod” in her pollinator series. “Making Arrangements” is her first novel. “Dogs and Love - Stories of Fidelity” is a collection of true tales about man’s best friend. Her website is ferrisrobinson.com and you can download a free pollinator poster there. She is the editor of The Lookout Mountain Mirror and The Signal Mountain Mirror.