Remembering Mr. Ellis
The name alone brought the image to mind of a quiet, happy old gent, along with bunches of warm memories from my very early childhood. You know, it always surprises you to learn just how many years someone has graced the Earth, and Alvin Ellis, a WWII veteran, had smiled on it for 85 of them.
The Ellis family still lived in the home across from the little white house that was my home from the time I was a tiny baby until I was 5. I can remember his beautiful garden and all the flowers. Honestly, if one more thing had decided to grow there, I believe the place would have rivaled the Amazon rainforest! Sometimes when they traveled, they’d ask Mama and Daddy to pick the ripe vegetables. Afterward Mama would can stuff for days! It was truly amazing how much one garden could produce when tended with love. Cats, including my black-and-white Tommy, roamed the yard and crawled ‘neath the plants. (In fact, Tommy regularly beat the stuffing out of their hairy gray cat, Muff - that is, when he wasn’t busy riding down the gravel driveway in my doll stroller or eating out of my tea set in the doll high chair.) Their house was warm and always felt welcoming. They were such a pleasant, loving couple to be around.
I called Mama yesterday morning to tell her of his passing. She, too, was surprised at his age. We agreed to go to the visitation together. I doubt Mrs. Ellis would have recognized me had Mama not been with me, but she wasted no time in hugging us both. She asked one daughter who was standing nearby if she remembered us. When she told her I was the tiny little girl who lived across the street, her jaw dropped in amazement. I towered over them both! Mr. Ellis looked a bit different from my memories, I guess because I never saw him when he wasn’t busy with something. Cupped in his hands, though, were his puzzle book and pencil. His open Bible, well-worn and full of notations, was at his side. There was a video tribute playing in the other room, and Mama and I went to watch it. There he was, smiling at someone’s wedding, smiling in his garden, smiling in his workshop, smiling at a grandchild, always smiling. He had a wonderful sense of humor. Mama said Mr. Ellis used to make me so mad because he’d call her “his sweetheart.” I’d angrily say, “No she’s not! She’s my daddy’s sweetheart!”
I guess Mr. Ellis and Daddy are walking around in heaven about now, catching up and looking at the gardens. Hope the Good Lord is ready for the bumper-crop of vegetables He is about to receive!
The Ellis family still lived in the home across from the little white house that was my home from the time I was a tiny baby until I was 5. I can remember his beautiful garden and all the flowers. Honestly, if one more thing had decided to grow there, I believe the place would have rivaled the Amazon rainforest! Sometimes when they traveled, they’d ask Mama and Daddy to pick the ripe vegetables. Afterward Mama would can stuff for days! It was truly amazing how much one garden could produce when tended with love. Cats, including my black-and-white Tommy, roamed the yard and crawled ‘neath the plants. (In fact, Tommy regularly beat the stuffing out of their hairy gray cat, Muff - that is, when he wasn’t busy riding down the gravel driveway in my doll stroller or eating out of my tea set in the doll high chair.) Their house was warm and always felt welcoming. They were such a pleasant, loving couple to be around.
I called Mama yesterday morning to tell her of his passing. She, too, was surprised at his age. We agreed to go to the visitation together. I doubt Mrs. Ellis would have recognized me had Mama not been with me, but she wasted no time in hugging us both. She asked one daughter who was standing nearby if she remembered us. When she told her I was the tiny little girl who lived across the street, her jaw dropped in amazement. I towered over them both! Mr. Ellis looked a bit different from my memories, I guess because I never saw him when he wasn’t busy with something. Cupped in his hands, though, were his puzzle book and pencil. His open Bible, well-worn and full of notations, was at his side. There was a video tribute playing in the other room, and Mama and I went to watch it. There he was, smiling at someone’s wedding, smiling in his garden, smiling in his workshop, smiling at a grandchild, always smiling. He had a wonderful sense of humor. Mama said Mr. Ellis used to make me so mad because he’d call her “his sweetheart.” I’d angrily say, “No she’s not! She’s my daddy’s sweetheart!”
I guess Mr. Ellis and Daddy are walking around in heaven about now, catching up and looking at the gardens. Hope the Good Lord is ready for the bumper-crop of vegetables He is about to receive!
posted by Jennifer at 11:29 AM
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