A Little Strange

I lived half of my childhood on Matteson Farms.

A farm my great-grandfather started, but a farm on which my grandfather managed to make a hell of a profit.

I played on golf carts, helped unload peanuts, corn, soybeans and milo (and by helped I mean I stood to the side while my father, uncle and innumerable workers unloaded those crops and then I played in them), hung out with my grandmother, and learned that the amazing people who worked on the farm for little money were amazing people, because they loved more and worked harder labor than anyone I've ever known.

The other half of my childhood was lived on Lake Greeson. My mother's parents worked for most of their lives, and saved a great deal, to build a house there in the 60's.

I lived a goodly portion of my life there learning that my cousins were really my best friends, that it's never a good idea to fall off the back of a jet ski with your legs wide open, and that some people in this world will always, and I mean, always, cover for you no matter what you do, i.e. that same best friend cousin.

I learned a lot in both places. On the farm I learned what it meant to care for, love and respect people who worked harder that I'll ever work.

On the lake, I learned what it meant to love my family and that my family will always love me--no matter what.

There is a lot to be said for both parts of my life, but it's the past few days that have brought home how fleeting it all can be. Below is a photograph of Narrows Dam, which holds Lake Greeson in its banks. Here it is overflowing, a thing I've never seen happen before.

I've seen the Red River, which creates the border of Matteson Farms, breach its banks a full 10 miles toward town, and I've smelled the dead fish and dead land, and I've seen the havoc a flood can produce.

But, I've never seen Narrows Dam overflow. In fact, the last time it occurred was 1968, a full 10 years before my birth.

This picture shows how much rain we've seen in the past few weeks. I can't help but consider all the people living downstream from the dam; all the people who make a living by maintaining docks, fuel stations, and recreation areas on Lake Greeson.

And, of course, I can't help but think about all the farmers out there trying to plant corn, cotton, and soybeans with just as much rain at their backs.

Maybe there will, from time to time, be a moment when both sides of my childhood will rear a head. And, I suppose that at those moments, I will always feel a little strange.