Yes, it always whispers to me of the days of long ago. When the settlers and the miners fought the crafty Navaho. How the cattle roamed the valley. Happy people worked the land. And now everything is covered by the shifting whispering sands. Shifting Whispering Sands, as sung by Jim Reeves
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I went to Mona, Utah to visit my Grandma Verdie and Grandpa Jim today (The last Christmas visit/party this year). My Grandpa was sitting in his chair by the fire. Spending the visit drifting in and out of sleep. A coiled rope draped his left knee and a cowboy hat sat, to the right, on the chair post besides him.
Nate asked him about the rope draped on his knee.
Nate: "Hey what is that rope for?"Grandpa J: "I've been out branding cattle."Nate: "How did it go?"Grandpa J: "Well!"
My Grandfather has altimers and now lives in the past. At times I miss the man who sang to me in greeting; as if in conversation. The man who played harmonica before bed. The man who could work leather into reins and bridle; a work of art. And the man who spoke of horses as friends and remembers what it meant to be a cowboy.
All that is left is the shell of the man I know and love but while he sleeps in his chair he remembers and relives. Adrift in time. Like a microscope, he is focused on one point. One plane. While everything else stays out of focus. Drifting from present to past to present like the Shifting Whispering Sands. If I listen, I can hear him and his stories.
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Did you draw that? It's really beautiful.
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ReplyDeleteThank you. I love it too. I loved drawing the wrinkles and crazy eyebrow hairs. The prominence of his nose, broken while ridding bronc at the Rodeo. And I still remember the moment when I realized he had no eyelashes. :) I drew it in 1992, in the car, on a trip home from Arizona. While my grandfather slept next to me.
ReplyDeleteAngie, I love you. Thanks for helping me remember my Dad and what he once was. It helps to think of him reliving those days of his youth and not worring about the present. Thanks for the new view point, your Mom
ReplyDeleteOh, Angie, this was so beautiful.. I'm going to print it out and frame it with the beautiful words that you wrote...I can't quit crying...
ReplyDeleteAngie, what a wonderful drawing and your memories were beautiful. Daddy is so easy to love. He was all about singing, harmonicas, deer hunting and stories.
ReplyDeleteMom has been harder to love. I think she had to somehow balance daddy's silliness. She was put into a role that she had to make sure that everything was alright. She would always say "Oh, Jim!" whenever he got carried away with something.
We didn't have very much growing up, but mom sewed, canned food from the garden, cooked the venison, and stretched every dollar.
She always had trouble expressing her feelings, but she showed her love for her children and grandchildren in what she did for us.
All those Christmas Eve parties ..... wouldn't have happened without her... new pajamas for everyone with a specially picked out flannel for each one ...
Summers for the grandkids, giving us parents a break.
While daddy was driving looking out at the scenery and singing, it was always mom who was watching the road.
Judy and Sue,
ReplyDeleteYou are so right! Grandma put a lot of love into everything she did. She was always in the background making sure everything was taken care of. Grandpa gave me so much too and I guess, at least at that time when I wrote the piece, I was focused on grandpas trials; his being more visible than Grandmas.
As expected, I too have been thinking about Grandma and what I may write regarding her and my life with her. I like what you guys wrote (see Sues comments on the blog post). Its no coincidence that you, and Sue, mentioned the christmas eve partys.I miss them too and its what I immediately think of when I think of christmas. It is also what is brought up when I speak to my cousins. We all knew they were great and that it was Grandma that made them happen. It was a generous gift to all of us and one that we will always remember.
Thanks for your comments.
Love you,