Dirt

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Last night one of our dearest friends, Becky, arrived. Her and Jan have been friends for many years, and as a family we love her light, good nature and humor. As expected she brought that with her and lit up the room when she walked in.

I went in to Jan this morning to see how he’d done through the night, and he responded by saying that he got into a huge fight with 15 MMA fighters. Mommy said she woke thinking Jan was having a seizure because his legs were kicking and arms flailing all over the place, and then he shot two feet up off the bed and onto the floor, hitting his head on the bedside table. My mom asked him if he was okay, and he explained that he had a really vivid dream of fighting 15 guys and at one point he figured his only hope was to bail over the red railing of the building he was on, and that’s when he landed on the floor. What a nut. He even had a little blood on his cheek.

We all got ready and went to church together. Jan hasn’t been able to go for a while because he’s felt so dizzy and out of it. It started out well, but as little children made little children noises around us, it seemed to pierce his head and before long he had quite the headache. I asked the lady behind me if she had ibuprofen and she didn’t but immediately was a woman on a mission! She quietly asked around until she found some, and I gave it to Jan. Just the hydrocodone alone is not enough anymore, he has to have the combination of the two meds.

After church I picked corn and shared the husks with the horses.

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I cooked coconut curry chicken and mommy cooked rice, and we enjoyed our meal together with Becky, Bernadine, and our sweet friend from South Africa, Morag McNiven.

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After a while we all made our way over to Daddy’s grave. Morag and Becky hadn’t seen it yet.

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I remember walking out into an alfalfa field about a year ago to take a photo of the sunset. The earth was moist from being irrigated that day, and alfalfa stood thick and tall. As I walked, white moths and orange butterflies circled my bare feet, and I felt connected to the earth. I had no idea that that exact field would soon be made into an extension of the Firth cemetery, and I certainly had no idea that in the very ground I was standing on,  we would lay my fathers body a year later. The man that owns that land is my fathers best friend, and he gave that burial site to my parents for their graves. A couple days ago, he gave Jan the same gift…a plot of land right by Daddy,  where his body will be laid.

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Today as I stood there with Jan, I thought of all the dirt roads I’ve walked, all the fields I have ventured into, the meadows and valleys I have rested in. What on one day is a random patch of dirt, could tomorrow be something as significant as the final resting place of your best friend. It makes me respect the sacredness of the earth more.

One thought on “Dirt

    linda govatos said:
    September 21, 2015 at 4:07 am

    Beautiful as usual.Belinda, you are a gifted writer!

    Like

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