Family Stories
My father’s stories were not tales of moral principles or prophecy,
but rather reenactments of his roots—
tales of the open endless prairie
and the characters who peopled it.
Mirrors reflecting what seemed to me
to be a distant past:
forays to neighboring town dances
(told in the voice of Deafie Sterner)
to “See the leetle women.”
Tales of Hank Jarneck, Cousin Louie
and Grandma’s liniment cake.
Accounts of gray wolves, prairie fires,
children lost in winter blizzards
and reenactments of the voices of the wind
whistling through wall planks
and around the door during a winter blizzard.
In those days of my childhood before travel,
they presented a way to journey through time—
leading me back to my father’s roots—
allowing him to make those memories last
through another generation.
The debris of his life’s past
thus building the foundation
of mine.
For The Sunday Whirl Wordle 718 the words are: voices time story debris present
lead doors roots prophecy last mirror

❤️
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A beautiful tribute, Judy.
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What an interesting story, well crafted and succinct. ❌️🌹❤️
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Great write up.
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These stories of the world completely alien to me never cease to fascinate me.
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Have you read either of my books about growing up in South Dakota? You’ve told so many good stories about your life on your blog that I’d be happy to send them to you if they would interest you.
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No, I have not – my bad! I’d love to read them.
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I just sent you an email, Dolly.
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Thank you. I just replied.
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Wonderful tribute to your father’s stories.
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He deserves it.
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