Amen

It seems the notices come weekly now

As one class mate after another dies.

The news relayed by a faithful Bullpup

Who’s lived his life in McPherson. Or hers.

A pillar now of the community,

A Kiwanian, a Lion, a Chamber of Commerce board member,

A business owner whose hometown success was not foretold

By his high school hijinks.

And then the tributes arrive. Mostly from  jocks

For a fellow jock.

And I remember the padded shoulders and the camaraderie,

The impish smiles.  The silent brotherly shoves.

And I return to our small concrete-benched gym or to a brisk fall night

Laced with the scent of a friend’s plate-sized white homecoming mum,

The red pipe cleaner “M” its stamen.*

There was only one boy from whom I craved a mum—or a date,

Or the gift of a locker-side conversation.

And he died this week.

As usual, the obit and photo shared with those of us living.

But so far, without the tributes.

Dick played football—same as the others.

But hustled home afterwards to farm chores.

His smile eternally open, genuine, shared.

His capacity for wise and kind asides enormous.

Forever free of the call to be cool.

At first glance, I didn’t recognize Dick at the one reunion I attended.

Nor did he know me.

I was, though, star struck by the serene beauty of his wife.

Ann’s gracious openness. Her class.

Dick had found and married someone

Who shared his gentle goodness.

I was glad for them, and jealous, and reassured

By the wisdom of my unanswered crush.

By the grace of their friendship.

I was puzzled only by their evangelical fervor. 

To what is a Kansas farm boy born again

When he already knows the sweet sacraments of gold wheat,

Steady wind, sunflowers, a blue sky stretching to infinity, dressed with whipped cream thunderclouds?

Though, if such pentecostal faith gave Dick and Ann the peace they needed this week, I am saying a heartfelt amen. ©

*I thought every community knew about Homecoming mums with pipe cleaner letters. Rendered in school colors. Turns out that may have been more specific to McPherson than I realized. Trust me, it was a thing!