February 5, 2020

PUBLISHER’S CORNER

By Eloise Graham

The Rhetorical Question and the Ensuing Conversation

If you could have a conversation with anyone, living or dead, who would it?” Have you ever been asked that? How did you reply? I have been asked that. Then, after thinking about it for a while, I would also imagine the conversation that might follow. I might get parenting advice from my mother, or friendly relationship advice from a high school friend that lost her life way too soon. These hypothetical conversations sometimes give us guidance when we have decisions to make. Sometimes just solace when we need it most. Or maybe solid footing as we navigate the paths our lives take us.

A lady at Ridgecrest shared with me a poem her son had written about conversing with George Washington. She asked her son for permission to share with you, the readers. It seems very apropos as we celebrate Presidents’ Day.

George and the Boys
by Duane Anderson

Each morning on one of our day tours
through the Black Hills
I would say hello to George and the boys
as we passed Mt. Rushmore.
George is getting to know me quite well now
after all my visits.
He thinks I’m not such a bad guy,
maybe a little ugly, but not a bad guy.
Twice, I’ve eaten breakfast with George,
passing by four other times.
George doesn’t talk much during my visits,
though I think he listens to me.
Abe, Tom and Ted keep
my wife and daughter entertained
while George and I visit.
The last night of our trip I stayed up late with
him on the mountain.

I can only imagine the conversations that might have been going on. Did Duane ask him about the Revolution and our young nation or did he ask for how George would govern now in today’s environment?

How many times have you been with friends, someone says or does something, and one of you say, “I can just hear him now. He is laughing like crazy.” Or maybe you do something really big and you say, “I can hear my mom telling me how proud she is!”

Contemplating this and other hypothetical conversations, I remembered a poem my daughter had written.

It was the summer of 1996, my mother was in a coma in a nursing home in Kansas. It was about a month before my mother passed that Jane, my daughter called me to see if we could go back to Kansas. She wanted to visit her grandmother. Jane spent much time sitting by Mother’s bedside, just holding her hand, thinking, reminiscing. During this time, Jane penned her thoughts.

The Conversation
by Jane Graham Jennings

There will be time.
Always enough time.
Then one day there is no time
To say the things you should have said.
So here I am.
I look at you.
Have your eyes always glistened like sapphires?
They stare.
Yet, the sapphires twinkle at me,
beckoning me.
“I remember, Grandma,” I whisper.
I remember now all those things I missed.
“Expand your horizons.”
I’ve learned to appreciate new things
“I love everybody no matter how they look.
Who they are is what counts.”
I’ve learned not to judge.
“I was prepared to live alone.”
I’ve learned to be strong.
“I put lavender lace on your dress. It’s my favorite.”
I’ve learned to recognize subtlety.
You knew I would remember.
You spoke even to my young deaf ears.
I remember, Grandma,
I love you never came enough.
Do you hear me now?
“I love you.”
Your sapphires glow.
Thank you, Grandma,
for all the things I missed.

So, who you would you have a conversation with and what would you say?

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