Smiles held in the heart

Smiles held in the heart
Smiles held in the heart

Sunday, November 27, 2016

Pink Pasture

Pink Pasture

As the sun is setting behind the trees of the  distant pasture, the thought of you crosses my mind. The sky is pink and the outline of the trees is dark in contrast.  Many nights I lay awake and try to remember the first time I went to your home town.  It was a small place but very cute. I had never been in the South before that day. I suppose in my mind I always thought that living in the country was something that I would never experience. The house was clean and neat. Lunch was ready and made to look like a buffet. It was some of the best food I have ever eaten. Your parents were especially kind to me. They asked me some questions about where I was from and about my family. They made me feel very much at home. After helping with the dishes from lunch, we went on a drive.  In in the fields there was cotton growing and also peanuts. Some other farms had corn in long rows. As we drove along, you pointed out your high school and other places in town that were of interest. You used to have a house that was built quite a long time ago that was a mansion complete with big columns out front. It had burned down just a few years earlier. There was a similar house directly across on the corner from where it used to stand. You described the home you lived in and I could only imagine what it was like to live in such a fine place.  Later on I was able to see the inside of that other house and it made me fall in love with the old antebellum homes even more.
We drove along some narrow roads out to your grandmother's  house. When we got there, she was in the garden. There were beautiful flowers of all kinds around her. Some of my favorite where the tiger lilies and the black eyed Susan's along the fence. You could see for many miles across the pasture land. Gentle rolling hills of grass with some cows and horses grazing leisurely. I remember sitting in one of the chairs just outside the back door and drinking some sweet tea. It was the most pleasant afternoon I had spent in quite a while. I went inside to use the restroom and noticed how small and sweet the place was. It consisted of two bedrooms, a livingroom and kitchen combination and to the side of the house there was a screened porch. On that porch there was a bed that  was surrounded by windows. They were cracked open and a gentle breeze was making the was curtains billow.  I  knew someday I would love to take a nap on that bed. I noticed the quilt on the bed. The pattern was called Dresden plate. To this day it is one of my most favorite patterns. The bathroom is small and functional really nothing to describe - do your business and get out. On my way outside, I saw another bedspread on the master bed. It was white chenille. On it there was a pattern of lilacs that  had been stitched. I thought it looked so beautiful.
When we left her house we drove a little further and stopped at a corner church. Across the road was a cemetery. You showed me where several of your relatives were buried. I felt as though I could live with this family if ever I had the chance. The week went quickly and I met many friends that you had grown up with and felt very comfortable around them. I flew home to Virginia and was busy with nursing school. You came to visit me every month and we spoke every week on Sundays. In December I said yes when asked to marry you. Your mother gave you her first diamond. You had it reset and in a new ring for me. I never felt so loved in all my life. Several months passed and we grew closer and more excited about our wedding on June 16. 
I saw our photograph again tonight.  Both of us are smiling and looking-very happy to be married.
When I think about those early days together,
it seems like yesterday.
The pink streaked sunset on the pasture will always make me smile and remember you. 

Wednesday, November 16, 2016

At This Moment

I often think of how blessed I am to be who I am.
I just read two stories in a magazine. One was of a famous person and one was of a woman like me. Both stories had their ups and disappointing downs. The common thread was that they stuck close with their family to make it work. Now I'm not saying you can't strike out on your own and achieve the same satisfaction. 
I'm just sharing who I am right now. 
I'm looking out the windows of my sister's home in Atlanta. The level of the windows is at mid tree height. The view is like a nature portrait of leaves in many shades of transition. Some are green, some yellow and some are brown. Bare limbs are prominent, too. 
A dog is barking in the distance. There is soft guitar music being played downstairs.
It's comforting with the sun shining through the stairwell window behind me and hitting my shoulders. Leaves flutter outside.
An old clock ticks it's metronome reminding me that time marches on second by second. I'll easily use up 3600 of them taking this all in.
I'm older. Not who I used to be yet the same as always. I can easily let my mind wander backwards. 
A hand made hammered silver cuff bracelet and three bangles glisten in the suns rays. I go back further to a time when the maker of those beautiful items, my brother-in-law, was gravely ill. I can not explain it other than being a miracle. The happiness I feel today in this moment of my life came as a result of many sad moments I have survived in the past. Just like that famous person and that woman like me.