The words of a dying man are treasures.
Dad shared stories in his final days – time he spent with Henry Aaron, his father’s time with Shoeless Joe Jackson and the baseballs we must keep….our weird family, and what to do with the Roseville china, sponsoring love life through crawfish, and selling Cottonmouths for twelve bucks…….all these things that express the flavor and quirkiness of our family. I’m glad we captured these stories on audio so that we can revisit them as we go through the process of grieving our loss of Dad. These moments of the most random conversations filled with memories are priceless to me, no matter how scattered they may seem to others. I’ve used the chain Haiku form here in the poem I’m sharing today, using Dad’s exact words in these lines.
Twelve Bucks for a Cottonmouth
my brother is a
freebie baby, a clearance
kid of great value
our weird family
snake blood in our DNA
swamp genes in our veins
serendipitous
steering currents bring surprise
unexpected guests
prayer conversations
important time together
letting kids climb trees
these things that happen
hodgepodge of mismatchery
eclectic, unique
Okefenokee
twelve bucks for a cottonmouth
Wings Service Station
I sponsored my love
life selling crawfish, Dad said
(priceless audio)


