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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 4553 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention Papa Jim Plove (Peggy Eldridge-Love) He came into view, a giant of a man, as red as the Mississippi dirt he farmed, as liquid as the artisian springs that flow unbidden from craggy cliffs and hills that dot his land. We poured from the whale-shaped chevy, road weary but bright-eyed, seeing for the first time to remember, our dear Papa Jim. I think I wrapped myself around a knee, my brother somehow landed in his arms, while mother, his daughter, beamed that this one man's family was, for a moment at least, all home. Our own father, arms draped about my sister's neck, waited for his turn. We were Kansas hicks, not quite city, but completely dumb to the nature of chickens, goats and pigs. He led us into hen houses, rode us through pastures, taught us to swim in his muddy pond. He was oblivious to the scent of Magnolias but they became his smell and when my mind conjures it the box of colors in my memory come to life. We must have driven back across that wooden bridge that had no rails, surely there were hugs and waves goodbye, and at some point his image there standing in the middle of the road srunk into the distance, surely, but though decades have mounted and the earth has claimed him I have never left those sun hours spent in the radiance of his wholeness. Through him I am. |
