Two watersheds have created my life. I have mapped out the valleys and mountains of these singing waters in the folds of my grandmother's quilt and the creases of the palm of my hand. These wrinkles in the landscape, and the waters that created them, carry me home again and again. ~ Jim MinnickI don't know why, but the image that flooded my mind was of my father's hands from many, many years ago. It comes from early childhood and Sunday mornings in the Baptist Church where I was raised. I was holding his hand and tracing the veins that stood out like little ridges on the back. For some reason those ridges fascinated me all through my early years. So much so that when I look at my own hands forty years later I am still comparing them to those images from my childhood, and wondering why mine never have had those same ridges.
After writing the above, I continued to read the rest of Colleen's post for today. She managed to convince me I really wanted to see/hear the word pictures Jim Minnick paints so the book is already ordered. Lord, isn't the internet aterriblee/great place to hang out? Thanks, Colleen.
Horace Andrew Boyd
Sept. 8, 1921 - July 19, 1996
This was my Dad from the late 70's.
