I Miss Arkansas

Thanks all of you for the opportunity to post along with you. There is so much talent here and Susan.....well....she's just awesome.

I Miss Arkansas
Sometimes I miss Arkansas. That tiny cabin built of logs and stone, and filled to the brim with the love and gentleness of my grandma and grandpa. I remember the smell of grandpas pipe, the warmth of a crackling fire, the twinkle in his eye as I sat on his lap and listened to his stories. I can almost hear the constant chirp of the crickets and the occasional sweet call of the whippoorwill. Almost see the flash of the fireflies; smell the pipe tobacco.

For two blessed weeks every year I found shelter from my fathers drunken rages and my mothers cold indifference. I received enough love those few days to carry me through the other 50 weeks of the year.

At dusk, grandpa would match his long strides to my short ones, and trust me to walk beside him as we gathered the cows from their day of grazing. He'd sit me on a wooden stool in the barn, and guide my little hands to the warm teats of a swollen udder....teaching me how to coax milk from a stubborn Guernsey. There were no harsh words, or scolding slaps. Only gentle hands and soft words guiding, teaching, lifting and encouraging me. I felt so loved and protected.

I have never since known such peace or felt such protection from life's harshness. We simply lived those two weeks enjoying the bounty of fresh meat and produce that farm work provides. Chores were done with laughter and pride. As long as one was kind and tried ones best, nothing more was asked. Perfection was not even considered , much less expected. Love was good enough. I was good enough. I never seemed to disappoint my Grandparents.

I want to be that same shelter for Boo as she goes through life. The log cabin in Arkansas is gone now, but perhaps someday Boo will look back and remember the warmth of my tiny apartment. The laughter on my balcony as we blew bubbles and did chalk drawings. The smell of popcorn in bed as we snuggled beneath the blankets watching a Disney movie.
Sometimes I miss Arkansas