Koko was one-of-a kind BOGO curious wanted to know how things work Master gardener grapefruits in the yard for 25 years Candi answered radio gardeners’ call-in questions Bird watcher keeping parakeets, cats tracking caterpillars through cocoon to bread-and-butter butterfly Born in Mobile named by her three year-old brother for baseball favorite Connie Mack (Freddie couldn’t say Connie, only “ko” a couple of times) Private duty nurse kept smelly plastic skull surgical remnants in her bedroom gall bladder jarred on the bookshelf, gallstones floating around in formaldehyde Worked 3 to 11 then escorted us on adventure detecting creek beds for dinosaur bones skating on ice riding a bike, first time driving a stick shift molding, glazing, firing clay arranging an underage library card publishing the neighborhood paper typing articles, selling ads mimeo distribution buying us sundaes at Dairy Queen taking us Sundays to churches laying on summer bed Houston’s sweaty heat sweeping us, mid-night, to the park to see the rings of Saturn She loved big hurt deeply didn’t know how to shield her heart Her love for life came through loud and clear She wasn’t fighting death, lived to her last breath, held on When we buried Koko we buried body only Spirit strong there’s nothing gone about her Koko, I hope you know: You done good.
— by Lisa Sarasohn (based on conversation with Connie Hanna)