Remembering Linda Perkins

I fantasized that during a particularly long and boring sermon I would explode, causing instant excitement and possible revival in the congregation. They would all be convinced that the rapture was taking place without them, and I alone would be chosen to ascend into the cool clouds! However, I would immediately kick holes in them, releasing torrents of rain on the driest places.

Better yet, in the middle of all the groans and rolling eyeballs greeting my return of essays to my students, I would have the ultimate last word if in fact my body would choose that very moment to refuse another day of hundred plus temperatures. The explosion would immediately evoke cries of sorrow and remorse, and I would not be there to hear them beg for another chance to write a comprehensible essay. I would not have to so much as pretend sympathy or kindness, for I would be bathing in the cool air of the heavens. I could at last expose my amusement at their feeble attempts to evoke tears of compassion from my eyes and grief for their situation from my heart. Wow, it would be fun!

There was a day not long ago when I was sitting in the first chair of the viola section, moved up to fill the absence of my stand partner. I was nervous to be seated under the evil eye of the conductor, afraid that I would emit some unforgivable sound and reveal my inadequacy. Alas, in this case I was truly a prophet, so at that very moment defeat could have turned to triumph if my tortured body would only have given way to the flames that have seemed within reach these past three months. The entire orchestra would then gnash their teeth in terror and horror at the unfathomable illness that must have overtaken me in the last minutes of life, causing me to faux pas instead of fermata. I could giggle all the way to the pearly gates, where I would receive my contract of perpetual perfection, never having to fear another baton between the eyes!

Saturday night Heather and Tracy brought Summer over for a visit with us, and we all decided to have a nice walk after eating too much dinner. Our dogs love a chance to show off their people, so they went along with us, dashing ahead to scare away anything that might challenge us. For instance, Bo stood resolutely in the middle of the road, forbidding a pickup to go one inch further. The driver was a good-natured neighbor, who has probably seen Bo many times before, so he didn't seem too offended. We walked to the paved road and then turned around to walk the other way, and we had a very nice conversation when one of us wasn't yelling at one of the kids to watch out! Just as we got back to our own mailbox, the dachshund across the road decided to take umbrage at our presence and came dashing to defend his domain, barking for all his might. We bravely told him to go home, which did nothing except elicit more protest from him until his 12-year-old girl came to get him. She was carrying the docile puppy toward her driveway when Bo suddenly decided to voice his disapproval of her animal. We thought he was going to bite her, and it was most embarrassing and frightening. It occurs to me that if I could have escaped the heat at that very moment with a very loud noise, everything would have been much better. Bo would have proceeded to explore the source of this new fearful threat, the little girl could have safely escaped with her black charge, and it would have given everybody another topic to discuss besides when it might cool off and rain!

But it isn't true! I'm still here, and it's still hot, and who knows if it will ever rain again! Still, it's kind of an amusing way to cool off.

Ken Hammack has written this wonderful poem dedicated to Linda and it seemed only appropriate for it to be placed on "her" page. Thank you Ken. A LOVELY FLOWER IS MISSING
(The following poem is dedicated to the
memory of Linda (Sallee) Perkins who
went to be with the Lord on April 4th
2001. I knew her from afar. My deep
and sincere sympathy goes out to her
family and close friends. I am sure she
will be missed greatly.)
A lovely flower is missing,
From the garden of our hearts,
And there's a lot of reminiscing,
As each "misty" tear drop starts.

There are some who knew her closely,
Others knew her not so well,
But the ones who knew her "mostly",
Have great stories they can tell.

Of the happy days that they have shared,
Of a friendship long enduring,
Of the many ways that they have cared,
A bond most reassuring.

In memory they see her now,
Behold her lovely face,
Recall the sunshine of her smile,
The beauty of her grace.

It seems like only yesterday,
Her fragrant bloom was there,
To brighten everybody's way,
This rose so sweet and fair.

But now this precious bud, so rare,
God has chosen for His own,
To grace His yard forever there,
Around His great white throne.

A lovely flower is missing,
Her "sweet fragrance" is no more,
This dear bloom God's love is kissing,
Over on that golden shore.

Ken Hammack 4/04/01

This wonderful piece was written by Linda Sallee Perkins in the summer of 2000 on a day when the thermometer had reached 107. The violins in the background are in honor of her love for music and her violin. Thank you Linda for leaving us with a piece of your humor. We will miss you very much.