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Vive la liberté! Vive all y'all!
Ante omnia armari
To each of you ... Thanks for stopping by.
Friday, November 2, 2007
Archive from November 2, 2007
Copyright © 1987 James A. Zachary Jr.
“Child! So good of you to visit old Maize! I don’t get many guests nowadays, this place bein’ so full of sadness and all. Yes, Doc say the cancer still be there and gettin’ worse. They can’t cut on me no more, they done cut out all but my soul. The worst thing is the pain, the pain. I don’t take no drugs though child, just usin’ the Tylenol and aspirin. They give morphine if I want it, had it for the operations. Wish they would promise enough just to end all of this. Can’t blame the kids and gran’children for not comin’ to see old Maize. They hurt themselves bad as the cancer hurts me, seein’ me like this, and seein’ the others that be here. Don’t know how these bills get paid, all what was to the kids inheritance is gone; house was sold long ago. They call this the hospice, a place for us to come to die. They be folks here that try and help by comin’ ‘round to talk ‘bout diein’. Lord, child they do mean well but I wind up tellin’ them ‘bout livin’! They just don’t know, bein’ as young as they are. I be nearin’ seventy-four-years and most of these helpful folks, they be thirty years at best. I seen some things in my life, good and bad, done my share of both! Old Maize done some things not to be proud of, but I hurt nobody but me. Wouldn’t trade none of it! Could have left this world at twenty and not had a regret, many things I done twice, I be so old now. Don’t you go sittin’ and wishin’. You do all what is your dreams, no matter some things can’t be had, you go after them. Don’t you go sittin’, diein’, wonderin’ what you could have done. Grow old and at least have the memories of tryin’. I don’t mean to ramble, my mind tells my mouth to keep movin’ ‘til all is said, don’t have much time anymore. Come closer and let me look at ya. Even with these thick glasses, can’t see much. Lookin’ real good, you are! Life will be good to you child, you have the gifts. No matter what you do child, you gots to promise old Maize one last thing. Promise you’ll remember me, just every so often. I don’t ‘spect you to dwell on my passin’, just give a thought to me every now and again when you feel the autumn wind in your face. That’s the only part that bothers me anymore, the fear that once I’m gone there will not even be a thought on this earth to prove me once bein’ here. Ah, I feel the sleep comin’ on again, best you be runnin’ along now. I sorry I can’t walk you out, but there ain’t much of me left. Feelin’ very tired, so very tired. Give a smile to old Maize. Thanks child, bless you.”