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The Only Day
Today marks the ninth anniversary of the day my mother departed this life and went on to the next one. My sister and I chatted about this last night, remembering some of the happy times and some of the not-so-happy times we shared with the stoic, flinty old woman who gave us life and fed us and sheltered us and tried to guide us. I miss you, Mother, and I love you. I hope to see you again when my own time comes to sail into the west. *** It’s still hot here and will reach 90 today and for the remainder of the week, but the mornings have been…
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The Thirteenth of August
Today would have been her 103rd birthday, and her absence these nine years has left a divot on my life’s surface. I miss her, and I am glad she isn’t here to see what has become of her country and her region. Seeing such ugliness would have grieved her tough, hidden old heart. Her middle name was Viola, which she hated. I always loved it, thinking it had a Southern literary lilt to it, like Eudora or Flannary, and I would sometimes address her by it, which enraged her. “Viola,” I’d say, “Reckon what it would take to get you to make me some bacon for supper?” And she would…
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Before Winter’s Solstice
Early this morning, I dreamed I was standing at my mother’s grave, down there in the flat delta where the cotton fields stretch like bolts of corduroy for monotonous miles. In my dream, I wanted to say some words to Mother, because I knew that she would be able to hear and understand me, but I could not bring myself to speak. There were leaves blown against her little tombstone with the hummingbird carved into its sleek surface, and they seemed to be telling me that it was all gone, my life and difficult relationship with that haunted little woman, that no matter what I might say to her, none…
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Honing The Edge of Loss
These are days of depletion, of withered hopes, of long hours, of loss. That feeling that the little ship inside me has run onto a jagged shoal and now there is a little slick of acid growing in the waters around it. I have been interviewing for a new job, and have been quite hopeful that I was going to get it. But because of some remarkable bureaucracy jiggles and inflexibility, the moment has passed and I did not get the job. I made the mistake of allowing myself to believe that I was going to be awarded the position, and that belief lightened my mood at work and made…
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Layers of Sadness
I just walked past the calendar and realized that a very important milestone came and went today, unnoticed by me, who was thinking of the wretched Marine Corps and of our new dog and of some issues that have arisen lately. Two years ago this morning, our beloved Bonnie died. We always said she was the best dog in the world, and we still believe this. Her passing hit us hard; that day was one of the saddest and most difficult in our married life together. I visit her grave in the woods behind the house regularly, and I still talk to her, and I still believe I will see…
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A Friend Remembered
Nine years ago today, my friend Roger Hathaway departed this life and entered into his eternal rest. There was no one like him. I’ll see you one day on the other shore, Roger. ~ S.K. Orr
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Fright And Grief
When I arrived home tonight, Mrs. Orr was cooking up a feast of salmon patties, new potatoes, green beans and a cucumber & tomato salad. We ate, and then Jinx and I went out for our evening stroll. A couple of years ago, one of my readers helped me identify a type of milkweed I’d never seen before. That same strain of milkweed is everywhere this year. As Jinx and I walked, I counted more than eighty of the plants along a twenty yard stretch of our road. The butterflies will be well pleased. Back at the house, I decided to set all of my wife’s pot flowers (as in…
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A World Diminished
It sits just off the highway a few miles from the turnoff to our farm, a squat, unremarkable building in the middle of a blacktopped lot, two gas pumps out front. Two donkeys live in a corral adjacent to the building, and customers sometimes saunter over and offer treats to the pair. It’s the Market, and for almost four decades, Danny owned and ran the place. Danny’s market was one of the first places we patronized when we bought our place years ago. From the get-go, he was a genial shopkeeper, helpful and gregarious. In addition to groceries, cigarettes, beer and whatnot, the market stocks a large variety of useful…
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Thursday In Holy Week
It’s a shame that we’re going to have some snow today, along with freezing temperatures the next two nights. The blooms and blossoms around our little farm are particularly zestful right now, with the peach trees, dogwood, redbud, forsythia, pear trees, daffodils, and various bulbs all in full glory. It would have been a spectacular Easter Sunday morning, but will probably be somewhat muted. Ah, well. The good Lord knows what He’s doing. Today marks what would have been the 100th birthday of my wife’s beloved father. Pawpaw was a remarkable person, a self-made man in every sense of the term. Forced to leave school at age eight in order…
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Early Patterns Of Grace
The first television show I remember is “Stoney Burke,” starring Jack Lord. The first drawing I ever made was of Jesus on the cross. The cross had flames shooting out of the bottom of it and it powered Christ through the spacious universe like a rood-rocket. The Lord’s hands looked like little broccoli florets, and you could clearly see the nails in His palms. The first dog I ever knew was our German shepherd, King, who died of cancer before he was even two years old. I was seven at the time, and I held his head as he panted before the end. He seemed to me to be the…