Beginning To End

Beginning to End


As I’m driving down Highway 231, all my thoughts are on you. I can picture you driving the old gray tractor with the trailer dragging behind. It’s filled with apples and crates. A satisfied look rest upon your face. As I get closer and closer to where you lay, everything else seems to fade away. When I step out of the car, lots of other memories start to flow: The time we had the big flood, everything covered in muddy water that turned to mud and then all we could see was nothing but rocks and boulders that the flood carried from the mountains.

And as I look back on this memory, the thought of how the rain drowned the ground beneath me and the weight of all the rocks, and the boulders, that the earth being so small had to hold, and the impact of the work of Mother Nature hard and cruel, I can only associate this with the moment, when the word got out that you had passed on. My heart felt like it was weighed down with heartache and my face drowned with the tears that just would not quit.

It’s amazing to think that something so small and so greatly needed for life could, in no time at all, bring destruction and horror. You of all, were so big and yet so small couldn’t help leaving us not wanting to do anything but to end the pain and suffering that you had endured for three long years. It is still sad, but at times it doesn’t hurt as much now. For you rest in the hands of peace and love, and pain is no more.

I also remember the time my Dad, your oldest son, got drunk one foggy night. He split up with a girlfriend. There were so many I don’t recall her name, and he came flying down the drive way. I thought at that moment that he would turn the car over on its back when he got to the creek. Then he made it to the drive and all I could see was that my dad, the man that held me dear to his heart, was crying. The tears covered his ragged face. Even despite the shape that he was in, you and Grandma listened as he told of the events that transpired.

Then the next thing that I knew for some reason or another Grandma slapped him hard across the face. At this point I was scared for Dad because he obviously was heavily intoxicated. But I knew that dad was going to leave and I begged him to take me with him, and you both said "no" and I flew upstairs and cried my self to sleep in my brother’s room on his pillow. I haven’t figured out why this memory sticks in my mind so much. But, the fact that there was a lot of emotion being shown by not only grandma, but you as well was heavily affected by the event. Growing up showing any kind of emotion around the both of you was always looked down upon.

Old fashioned, is the keyword to best describe the both of you. Now, the memory that comes to mind for this description is of the little time that I would stand in front of the mirror to “primp” . That is what Grandma would call it. And then she would say, “ If you would spend more time on studying your school work, than spending it in the mirror you would be an A student”. Please understand that a few seconds to her is like spending three solid hours in the mirror. Well, because of the amount of negativity that was always directed at personal appearance, it did not do much for the self-esteem of a fourteen-year-old young lady. But, to the both of you, I was still five in your eyes.

As I grew up and moved away, I understood where the need for you both to express education more than self-esteem came from. But, it still hurt during the school days. Now I look in the mirror and see more than a pretty face but something that goes far deeper than that. Because of you, there is a part of you in me and I would not have it changed for anything in this world. I can tell anyone that the part of you that I have, is the strength to hold up any rocks and boulders that any storm could put in my way. You both expressed that strength must always come before beauty if you want to survive in the storm that we call life. And as reality hits me in the face I can see:

A black fence on a two-acre hill, surrounding family and friends of old and new, fresh and artificial flowers make the names carved in stone a sight to be seen, all bright and new. The warmth all around is touched by the peaceful acts of birds singing and the butterflies fluttering through the spring breeze. To the north of Granddaddy are green mountaintops and the gray rocks of the Old Rag Mountain. To sit here and chat about all that is new, I’ve realized there is nothing better than to be here with you, when the sun dies down the scene gets better, the temperature drops and the sky paints a portrait with bright red and yellow.

I close my eyes and listen to the cricket’s melody while I memorize your wonderful and happy face. But alas, I must open my eyes and say my good-byes because all good things must come to an end. I am not sad. How can I be? This is the best place for both you and me. Reality will not bother me, with you being here. You are the one whom makes all harm disappear. Your memory brings me laughter and joy, not sadness and tears, what’s all that for?

As I get up to leave and place my fingertips to my lips, I softly touch your name in big bold script. I know you are not lonely, sad or blue, for you are with Him, and that is wonderful to know. He will take care of you just like you did for Richie, your children and me too. The last thing that I want to say is, we love you and miss you and I will return next year.




Sunshine
a.k.a. D.R.M.
Fall 2002