A Tribute to Cakes

I knew all of my life that Portland, Tennessee was never going to feel like home to me. So many traumas and heartbreaks have happened here in this little town. In middle school, my mother left the man I grew up seeing as my father and moved us into a little white house across from the elementary school I attended as a little girl. I was a young teen girl, in the throes of puberty. Rebelling against every machine because I wanted nothing more than to get out of this place.

Then there came Parnell Suttle, the little old lady who lived next door to us. Granted during that time, she was not that old yet. Parnell was the grandmother I never had. She gave me life advice that I still hold on to today, because "men are not worth it" and "I came this far all by myself". I remember how my brother and I would help her bring in her groceries every time she went out. She baked us a cake every birthday and holiday.

Parnell witnessed first hand myself learning how to drive and let me just tell you, nothing is more embarrassing than your neighbor witnessing you drive OFF the road and into your front yard because you were too busy making eye contact with her when she was talking to you from her driveway. But my momma taught me to always make eye contact.

As I went into highschool, we left that house next door to Parnell. I spent the next few years of my life trying my best to leave this small town. Arizona was calling and I went there several times before realizing, Portland will always call me back. I went on to have children of my own, three incredible boys. That little white house next to the amazing woman I called my own became available in 2018 and I grabbed it up quickly. This house always felt like home to me but as I grew older, I knew Parnell made this entire town and this home feel safe for me.

She watched us fix up this house, she watched me go through a high risk twin pregnancy, she watched my babies grow. Guess what? They got cakes for their birthdays and holidays too. We visited her daily, she loved my boys so much. Just as she loved me. The boys would go to their window every morning, afternoon, and evening watching for her. She would come ask about us if she hadn’t seen us. The last time we chatted, she showed me her beautiful flowers growing on the side of her house. My goal in life is to have bushes around my house as big and beautiful as hers.

As time went on, Parnell slowed down but her love never faltered. Then the day came, the day of that dreaded call.

On September 29th, my sweet neighbor and friend left this world to be home where she truly belonged. She was finally free from pain and any sickness. I wrote a tribute for her and it went pretty viral fast, it even made the news. But all I wanted was to share my love of Parnell Suttle with the world, because the world deserves to know her name forever.

In small towns like Portland, be a Parnell Suttle.

Be kind. Be accepting. Be loving. Bake cakes!

She gave me a painting she had in her garage, I’ll cherish that one forever.

She was the sweetest and most giving woman. To know Ms Parnell was to love her. You could never not wear a smile after one of your long talks with her. She made Portland what it is for me and I’ll miss her forever.

This isn’t goodbye, I’ll see you later.