Return to the Land

By 1939, when I was two years old, my parents and I were living in Bluefield, West Virginia and had acquired the farm in Bland County. Dad was trying to farm on a weekend basis while maintaining his job in town. Traveling back and forth Saturday and Sunday from town to the farm proved economically stressful to try to make the farm work. Thus the golden opportunity appeared which would solve my parent’s and Frank and Mary Jim’s dilemmas. My parents invited Frank and Mary Jim to come to the farm and work it for a living and reside in the log cabin. This met with satisfaction and so from this time on these two beloved grandparents become known to me as “Ma” and “Pa”. Farm life and living in the country far from their home and families in Lynchburg was cause for some sadness for Ma but Pa found it to his liking. By now social security was helping with their sustenance and they sold cattle and eggs to supplement their income. Ma coped with the situation and made the best of it. At least she was close to her daughter, my mother, and a new young grandson and a supportive son-in-law. We would come to the farm on weekends and bring groceries and supplies enjoying wonderful Sunday dinners prepared by Ma. As I grew older so did my grandparents and with that came the ailments of the aged. Pa developed hypertension (high blood pressure) and suffered dreadful headaches and Ma developed angina pectoris and took nitroglycerin. Both were now in the 70’s and the family became concerned for their welfare - living in the remote area of Bland. In 1951 a decision was made for them to retire from farming and they moved to Monroe, Virginia just east of Lynchburg to be near their daughter Kathleen and her family. My mother wept on the day they left the farm. Kathleen married now with three children; two of whom were in their teens gave of herself in caring for her parents in their last years. Pa suffered several strokes and died on February 11, 1956 at the age of 82. By now I was a young man in my first year of college and I found it very difficult to have to give up my beloved grandparents. On Pa’s deathbed I heard my grandmother say to him softly, “You go on Frank, I’ll be along shortly.” Ma was fully prepared for the separation. She had a strong faith, knew exactly where Pa was going, and recognized the fact that she soon would follow him. She had not been well for some time and Kathleen took her to her home to care for her in the last days following Pa’s funeral. Shortly thereafter she experienced liver failure and developed ascites or excessive fluid in the abdomen. Whether she had a malignancy with invasion to the liver or end stage liver failure remained unclear to me. At this point in my pre-med training I was not capable of making such a distinction. Exactly five weeks after Pa’s death Ma died at home with Kathleen on March 17, 1956 at the age of 78. Both were buried in Lynchburg in the Fort Hill Cemetery. There was a sense of loss that seemed unfair to me since these two wonderful people had helped raise and nurture me in my youth and I didn’t want to let them go. Oh, what a great affection I felt for my Ma and Pa.

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