Thursday, June 30, 2005

In Memory

photo taken fall 1958, enroute to Camp Stewart.

Last night, a voice from my old hometown called to tell me that the mother of another childhood friend had died on Sunday--she hadn't been able to get through to me. Mrs. Ferguson was more than Kathy's mother. She was mentor and leader of the youth fellowship group in our town of 2500. We talked, we camped, we had fun. When you grow up in a town that acts as an extended family and continue to visit parents there over the years, as well, the bonds stay strong. The man who called me last night grew up two doors from me. The woman whose mother died was one of my several closest friends from sixth grade on. The fact that we still come together at times of sadness or crisis, in addition to our loose keeping in touch, to me, is beautiful.

Mrs. Ferguson, thank you.

she plans
her next camping trip
stars aquiver


Michael Parker said...

Beautiful haiku, Pris. Thoughtful memorial.

Pris said...

Hi Michael
Yes, she was very special. It's hard to know that most of the generation of my hometown friends' parents are gone now. In fact, I can only think of two who are left out of that group of our alternative parents.