I have been writing a new book for the past couple of years. "Ezekiel" is the title, a spinoff of "The Secrets of the Harvest". My problem is that both of my muses passed away, and I can't seem to get my mojo back. My dad was the inspiration behind many of my stories. Along with my mother, they would tell me stories about growing up in the Jim Crow South. And as awful as it was, they were both happy, well-rounded humans. In my eyes, they were kind, loving, gracious, and caring people. They didn't have much when you measure material wealth, but Lord, the spiritual riches overflowed. I'm not saying they were perfect people. They had their sins to bear and made their mistakes. Mama with her cussing and fussing, and Daddy licked his fingers (played poker) on Friday nights. But they both had great big hearts and loved God. I would sit and listen to them tell me about their lives, before and after they met. Dad was on leave from the Army when he met Mama at some juke joint. I guess they fell in love that night because he asked Mama to wait for him until he got out. She did. They got married at the Aiken County Courthouse. Mama's soon-to-be sisters-in-law, Aunt Mary (Uncle Philip's wife) and Aunt Emma (Uncle Dime's wife), went with her. Mama said they walked from Winfield Town on that cold, windy March day. Mama and Daddy were married 58 years and 10 months, and then he died. Just thinking about both of them has inspired me!
