I am down in Mississippi visiting my Dad and Step Mom. It's always strange for me to be down here because, despite the fact that my Father is from here, I feel no connection. The Weaver side of the family has lived in Eastern Mississippi for generations. My Dad broke that chain when he went into the Navy and left the sweltering, kudzoo-covered life down here to see the world. He eventually came back home, but none of his children have ever followed him here.
My Dad's living room is filled with pictures of his kids, grandkids and Betty, my Step Mom's children. I found this photo of my older sister and me taken when I was about one or so. My Dad told me that it was taken shortly after I had my first haircut given to me by a barber that had cut my Dad's hair, his Dad's hair and his Dad's hair. Four generations of Weaver hair had fallen under this guy's scissors. I wish I had a photo of him.
OK HW
through your memory, words, and image.... what a great capture of life.
ReplyDeleteYep, pal, we're old -- black and white photos and everything. I'm glad to have my connection to New Orleans, even if it was rattled by all those years in Lafayette. I don't know about the Weavers in Mississippi, but I don't know of any other Nelsons besides me in the Big Easy, so I guess those connections are what I'm making of them now. Would be nice to have a little more in the way of family and roots, but I guess that's what happens when you reach our age and haven't had kids of your own yet. Good luck and best wishes to your dad, old son.
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