A World War II pharmacist mate (medic) born on November 11, my dad treated his first patients during WWII. In his office, a floral watercolor featuring 1 Corinthians 13:4-13 hung on his wall—directly behind every patient. “4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.”
Category: Family
Chattahoochee: Songs I Never Heard Till Now (for my mother)
I’ll be at the Decatur Book Festival, one of Atlanta’s premier literary events, October 3 and 4, signing copies of The Tears of Things: Poems (Booth 46, East Ponce de Leon Avenue). That’s why I’ve chosen to read a poem inspired by the Chattahoochee River National Recreation Area.
Spunk and Spark: Nannie Rewrote the Rules for Love and Marriage
From day one, Nannie was in charge. In 1915, she demanded driving lessons. She played basketball in finishing school and supported herself as a stenographer after a stint in business school. Her rules after marriage: 1) two children only; 2) her own car; 3) an annual bridge party vacation with “the girls” on St. Simons Island (no family, no questions).
Mottled History: The Love Behind a Peeling Vintage Table
I wore down layers of old paint on the vintage table. Running my hands over the just-right smoothness, I saw stories in the splotched surface: black paint from the furniture’s earliest days—maybe when my grandmother sipped morning coffee and gazed on her flowers; green when my mother went for a spring look; and sunny yellow in the hopeful days of my marriage.
You Can’t Take the Country Boy out of the Man
Was I lucky to have a dad obsessed with transplanting north Georgia mountain tradition to Alabama soil? I didn’t think so, especially on Saturday afternoons. While the neighbors’ kids played kickball on the cul-de-sac, our family tended the crops on the utility easement. There was nothing sentimental about growing squash, zucchini, cucumbers, tomatoes, okra, corn, and beans, beans, beans—until now.