Look at that face over there to the left. That's me in Heaven, where all things become nifty and new.
It's not the prettiest face you've ever seen, but is it not one of the sweetest and most satisfied?
"Farther along we'll know all about it," the old song goes. "Farther along, we'll understand why..."
Oh, sweet, sweet hope of the ages!
Somebody wrote in to say my face looked all peaceful like the Buddha's when he was sitting under a tree and figured out he had it all figured out, or figured out he didn't have it figured out or couldn't ever figure it out, so he just quit trying and decided to "zen out" and "go with the flow."
And to that I say "to each his own," but deliver me from having to tote around that big Buddha belly!
And look at that Clairol Loving Care helmet hair!
Every hair in place. Looks painted on, don't it?
Yes, that's me, looking again like I did in the prime of my life, when hope sprung like an eternal bed spring from my breast.
And now my hope is satisfied.
And yet...and yet, my heart longs for home and the sight and smell of the sweet earth. And for the sight and smell of y'all. Well some of y'all.
Make yourself at home until I come back. Sit in the shade of the porch or come on in--y'all don't have to knock.
Get the clothes in off the line if it looks like rain. Do you mind? And be sure to help yourself to the cornbread on the stove.
