Year: 2021

Who, if not me will remember…

That she lay in Room 724,

at the very end of a long, austere hallway?

Who will remember the length of her hair,

and to which side of the pillow her head lay; which of her cheeks touched the pillow, as she gathered her last, labored breaths?

I studied her.

Each rise and fall of her chest, noted which temple was kissed by the imperfection of her skin spot.

I am a visitor, looking through a similar plastic visor as all the doctors and nurses; we all look like surgeons. CV-19-PPE

My arms covered in the same plastic, swishing with each deft movement.

How many have thought “her hair looks quite lovely”?

Though it is hard to see her, in this state.

This state is not imperfect.

Her life has been a landmark,

and a guide for many.

Home has always been on Loretta;

because she was there.

Now, she points the way to another home

and reminds us…

That this is not our home,

we are only guests.

Landmarks, of what is to come.

(A Farewell to Melissa’s Cottage Cafe)

Melissa’s [drew] in that cozy feeling you [got] when visiting your favorite grandmother. From the staff, to the squirt of lemon in your sweet tea—it all feels like home:

Walking thru the door…as the floorboards creak

Eyeing around for my favorite seat

As we are seated

laughs and smiles fill the air

Because at the door

Is left, all despair

So for you who is reading this

Anxious, ready to feast

I wish you a great meal

so to you

Bon Appetit

-Justin Kinder 9/23/2017

Small business adds worth, that cannot be measured. We have lost more than soups and wraps. Here is a “retirement rap” track Kim that laid down (before a pandemic forced her and her husband to lay down their small business—that meant much to so many).

We share stories ‘bout our babies oh so sweet

Especially pictures of their cute little feet

They make me smile from ear to ear

but that’s not all, cuz when you come down here

You’re gettin coffee, a burrito—maybe some lunch

You must know I love you a whole big bunch

With your stylish clothes and trendy hair

I’ve always known you’s goin somewhere

Now you’re jumpin ship; you’re gettin out

You best believe, their ain’t no doubt

This is your day—your time has come

To make [Yourself] #1

So rest, relax—do your nails

Walk about some happy trails

You did the work, you played the part

Now I say sincerely, with all my heart

You’re a beautiful girl, both kind and smart

That’s also blessed with a big ole’ heart

It’s not enlarged—no, not in size!

But in volume of love you’d win a prize

So, if you’re ever bored or just get a minute

Come get a drink…and I’ll put something in it

<3 Kim

(Below is the 1st Chapter of Bill’s debut book: Sweet Mellow Red)

True love is like a fine wine: sweet and mellow and red. 

I believe there is a reason that certain people enter our lives. Some individuals are sent to remind us of the hardness of the human heart…they are barren grounds where little can grow. Others have souls of rich soil that give nourishment to green vines and sweet fruits. There are very few hearts, however, that yield a grape so exquisite that you yearn to bottle it up. Oh, to know such a person whose presence could be uncorked in a time of great despair; to know a love that can be trusted to pour its light into unknown, unsheltered nights.

I have the pleasure of knowing a person like this, a lady with red hair that shines auburn in the sunlight and whose blue eyes, at times, are as green as the sea shallows following a storm. Eyes that are wreathed in a deep, misty blue that always betrays the depth that lies beneath. She has a presence that pours over you as peace…and grace…and love. I have often pondered the mystery of what forms a person with a nature such as this. This person who has become the truest of friends to me.

Katherine—a lady that I call Sweet Mellow Red.

Great wines may indeed be dependent on rich soils, exposure to the sun, and high elevations. But there are other influences that make a great wine: tradition, for instance, and the careful attention of he whose hands work the vineyard. The creation of a “great vintage” is, in and of itself, an act of the truest love.

I will admit that I know very little of the production of wine, and less of fine wines—little of the art and great care that go into making a wine ‘fine’. Most of what I do know about wine is a collage of knowledge framed in picturesque vistas of false memory. Artificial moments collected through movie reels—powerfully artistic films—with backdrops of golden vineyards in the foothills of mountainous regions. Such scenes offer exhibitions of heartfelt moments, passionate romance, robust laughter, and deep love. It is love that stitches these tales together. Dramas, telling a story of fruits cultivated not just in geographic location but in the cradle of family tradition, rich culture, and a loving devotion to the vines. The wines in these stories are born works of art—beautiful portraits that influence all open to receiving their blessings.

Katherine’s story is a portrait such as this…