Mystery

     Her parents had told her that Papa was dying. She really didn't know what they meant by that, but she had seen how the gentle man with whom she had sat in a shared easy chair, she watching TV, he doing a crossword, had slowly drifted from ability to disability to frailty. When she had first come to live across the street, he had been able to be all over the house and yard, keeping the kitchen orderly, the dishwasher full, and the lawn trimmed to perfection. But in the few short months that she had lived there, he had grown more stooped and weaker each day.
     Before too long, he didn't know any longer that she was his great-granddaughter. She was just that exquisitely charming, snappy-eyed little girl who came to visit him every day. It made him feel young and old at the same time. He could remember holding his own small children and playing and wrestling with them. Those were days of hope as he watched his children grow into adults and spread their wings to fly all across the planet. But he knew his vigor was slowly ebbing away and his pain was growing as if to replace it. One day he found he could no longer do his trademark dog bark that had frequently made people look around for the unexpected canine in the room. It had always made people laugh. His bark was gone. He felt very old. But he knew it wasn't all bad if a that little two-year-old girl was happy to sit in his lap and share his chair.
     Then his chair was gone. He was in a strange, bare room where everything was unfamiliar. There were a few pictures on the wall that reminded him of things that he thought he should remember but what they meant was just beyond his mental reach. What had happened to his well-worn reclining chair and the familiar house in which he had lived so long? Where was his dear wife of sixty-plus years? Why wouldn't they let him go home? He just wanted to go home!
     He didn't know that the demands of caring for him had outgrown the ability of his wife to meet them. They had met just as the war had come to its end.  After a period of letter-writing while he was out at sea, they had decided to make a go of it as husband and wife. Many were the miles they traveled together since those days. Many were the experiences and adventures they had shared. And many were the times they had needed to agree to disagree and keep on going. Why was he here in this strange place and where was she? It didn't matter that she came to see him almost every day because he couldn't remember from one day to the next. The old memories were there but there seemed to be no room for what had happened yesterday. When night fell, he just wanted to be in his own bed in his own house.
     One day the little girl and her father came to visit. By then his pain had become so strong that the medications that kept the pain at bay also made it hard to do much more than lie in bed and take one breath after another. The girl, in her characteristically self-assured way, told her father, "Go away, Daddy. I want to be with Papa by myself." So her father left the room.
     We'll never really know what transpired while her father waited outside that door. Did Papa know she was there? Did they share some sort of silent communication? How could one so young understand what it meant to grow old and die? Did her silent presence give him some peace to know that the world would go on without him? That life would continue as little ones like her took the world into days that he would only see from the other side? Was she able to share with him about what and who was waiting for him there since she, herself, had come from there not so long ago? We will never know. And she will probably not remember how she watched over a frail, dying man with wonder. We can imagine that there was some sort of connection, that that moment of silent exchange between a person of the past and a person of the future brought about a letting go and a casting forward like the collision of two time-based billiard balls throwing them into opposite directions.
     That very night after the visit of the little one, his own grown children came to say goodbye and it was time to go. When he left, there were ripples in the space-time continuum. The ripples were infinitesimally small, mind you, but those who had been close to him felt them. The little girl didn't understand. "Is Papa gone, Mom? I want to go see Papa again today. Where is he?" But something told her heart that yes, Papa was gone now but it was OK. The connection they had shared over those recent months was going to be there forever. He was no longer that shrunken man she had last seen in that bed. He was solid and strong and full of energy. His sparkling eyes and sneaky wit were alive. And he would be watching over her forever as she had once lovingly watched over him.

Legacy of Ralph Montgomery

These are some of the stories Madaleen tells about her father.

Dean Miller told her that when he was working for Ralph delivering coal, he was occasionally instructed to make a delivery to a certain house or another and to not accept any payment.

Ralph always ordered a more expensive grade of coal that he stored separately from the regular coal. Whenever the school ordered coal from him, he would sell that special grade to it at the regular price.

Speedy Matthews once raised a calf and sold it at auction to raise money to go to college. When he came to Ralph to pay the feed bill he had incurred in raising the calf, Ralph told him to keep the money and go to school. Speedy went on to be a success in college and follow that up with a career in education (I think). Later after Ralph died, Speedy was questioned about the bill that was still on the books. His response was, "I know about that bill and I owe it." It wasn't until Speed was approaching his last few years that he told anyone about what Ralph had done for him.

Ralph was active in the local Lions club and served as the mayor of the town for a while.

When Ralph died and his son, Vern, was reviewing the assets of Ralph's feed store and grain elevator business, Vern discovered that the largest asset Ralph had was Accounts/Receivable. Most of the local farmers owed him money and Ralph didn't hound them for payment.

One of Ralph's brothers tells the story about how, as a young man, would set about unloading a rail car full of coal despite the fact that the then-owner of the grain elevator had told him that he didn't have the money to pay him for the work. Ralph's response was, "Don't worry. You can't get any money unless you get this coal unloaded and sold. You'll pay me when you can." Eventually, Ralph would come to own that grain elevator.

After Madaleen and Bill had moved back to Fairland and were living in Granny's house, someone they didn't know terribly well came by to discuss something with them. As he passed out the hall to the door, he noticed an old picture of Ralph on the wall. He pointed to the picture and said, "The worst thing that ever happened to this town was when he died."

In his last days, the house was filled with visitors from all around the county. They came to offer their parting words to him by talking about mundane farming issues like, "Do you think it's too late to plant oats?" It was their way to say goodbye without coming out and acknowledging that they knew he was dying. He died from pancreatic cancer at the age of 66.

After Madaleen and Bill had moved back to Fairland some 30 years after Ralph had died, they regularly attended the Lions club meetings. At one meeting, some members of the city council were looking around for a replacement for an open seat on the council. They asked Bill if he was interested.
     He said, "You don't want me. You want her," pointing at Madaleen.
     Madaleen said, "Well, my father was once mayor here, so I guess I could consider being on the council."
     "Oh? Who was your father?"
     "Ralph Montgomery"
     Excitedly, "Oh yes, you will do just fine!"

Resurrection

Kelda and Nick have some good plans for the place. They are looking at putting fruit trees and gardens in the front lot and some sort of low-effort annual in the back 13. If they can get the rest certified organic, they should be able to get 3 times the price for the hay than they are getting now.