Death of a Father. Linda Bourgeois

      

      June 16, 1990

      I wish my life could have been lived in pencil with a big eraser.

      Mavis came to see Daddy tonight, with Uncle Gene. I reminded her of when we decided to fail the history test because we had never made an “F.” She had forgotten. She said that after two major surgeries she could not remember many things.

      Mother and I went to Durant so I could buy shorts. I bought a white pair and a khaki pair.

      We went by Dr. Derrick’s. He was not home.

      We stopped by Homer’s…he was building on his shed (14’ x 16’). Domino had 4 puppies today…3 black and 1 white…Domino belonged to Bo, Homer’s second son, now deceased. Greg came out briefly. Amy was gone….riding with Chris (Charlotte’s son).

      Mother and I stopped for milk shakes. I ordered one vanilla cone and one milk shake. Nell, the shop owner, gave me my vanilla cone and two milk shakes…the one I had ordered for Mother and one, she said, for Lad, my father.

      It rained. Daddy fell…in the back yard; doesn’t know why or how.

      If my life had an eraser, I would erase all the years in between so I could spend more time here…with all the collected memories…in the history…the pain…the joy…if my life had been lived as a pencil with an eraser.

      Homer “Cotton” Durward Robertson

      Silent Grief

      I tried to write…but refused to think

      I slept August and September away with work.

      October 15 conversations began to

      replay in my mind.