30 Lead Me, Guide Me

Day 30 - February 18



Melinda’s back in school, Matt and Harold Martin are working. Harold left for Chicago.


Marie and David are cleaning out the vacant apartment across the hall. Cousins have long since departed.


I walk through father’s door, turn on Elvis Presley’s gospel CD,

…There will be peace in the val-ley for me-e-e, some day…

I sit on the blue couch facing a cabinet full of dusty Hummels,
and wait.


I walk to the kitchen, make a cup of International Coffee instant gratification and return to my seat. Music books stand on the piano. Scrapbooks of father and mother’s life together perch to my right. Racks of CDs rest on their turntables.


Elvis sings,

…I am tired and I need Thy strength and power

to guide me over my darkest hour.

Lord just open my eyes that I may see,

lead me oh Lord, won’t you lead me…

and I wait.


Even the phone is quiet. No one calls father’s home now.

…over my darkest hour…


I call father’s friend, Sarah, “Would you like to have diner with me tonight? Oh, yes, I’m fine. Good, I’ll see you then.”


The quiet returns.


I open drawers of pictures, dumping hundreds of glimpses into a lifetime on the table. I pick up each one, searching--the faces, the backgrounds, the time, year, situation, event. I wonder who took each picture, who will want each picture. I sort one pile of photos instinctively, for no particular reason, simply knowing I must save them. I create a shopping bag full for Steven.


Then I choose two or three for each cousin…


Elvis is singing,

…oh I wish I was in Dixie, away, away…


I’m in Dixie, where I was born. Old times are not forgotten.


The pitch rises, the tempo slows. Elvis deliberately emphasizes,

…Glo--ry, Glor-y, Halleluiah

His truth is marching on…


Then, words I never noticed before, catch me as I stand by the sink filling a crystal vase with water, tidying father’s kitchen, moving on…


…So hush little baby,

don’t you cry.

You know your Daddy’s bound to die.

But all my trials Lord, will soon be over…


My goal is to have father’s apartment completely cleaned out in two weeks. I will use the third week for tying up loose ends and visiting his friends for last.


For the next two weeks I'll begin my day each morning with instant International Coffee and Elvis.

...I come to the garden alone,

while the dew is still on the roses.

And the voice I hear, falling on my ear...

The two-CD set plays all morning long.