I learned today of the passing of my Aunt Maxine Ridings. Talking about her with my mom this evening, one of the things that came up was how she has just always been part of our family, forever. Also, for her nieces and nephews, I think we all always knew that we would get her smile, her wry sense of humor, and her easy laughter, each time we saw her. She seemed to laugh as easily as she breathed… and for my Uncle Bud, whom we all respect and love dearly, she has been the perfect match. Our thoughts go out to Uncle Bud, and to Dena, Janie and Keith, Bill, Marilyn, Blair and Josh.
I wrote the following poem 21 years ago, at a time when “home” had a very special meaning to me… implying certain places in and around Greenville, Illinois, security, and many specific people in my family. Aunt Max was certainly part of the family that I carried with me everywhere I went, that was constant, loving, and an inseparable part of my self-identity. Of late, her health had taken a turn for the worse, and so it seems mostly a blessing that she is now at peace. She will be missed; she was a great lady in my life, and in the lives of many other people I love. We will remember her laugh and her smile always….
Aunt Max, thank you for your love, and for helping to make me who I am.
The Different Drummer
by Roger Darnell
I don’t know why I had to go
Back home in summer’s early glow…
But in my feeble state of mind
I felt a loss I had to find.
The great escape some said I made—
And true: to sense the solemn shade
Of home, and leave the world behind
Which made me cold and scared and blind.
In all pursuits I pushed myself
Beyond the pack that somehow shelve
Their hopes and dreams for social norm
And fear the lonesome, ruthless storm.
In battle-youth, I made my way
Through acid rain of dream decay,
And while the storm’s calm eye drew near
My bravery was turned to fear.
With summoned strength I fled the storm
And limped in semi-shattered form
Toward the place where life began
To find The Answer to The Man.
I found the place I’ve always known:
Aunts, uncles, grandmas, cousins grown,
The trees that fell that I know well,
Whose echoes clang a rusty bell.
The native country took me in—
It mattered not where I had been;
It saw me as I was, and still
Gave praise for all my vital will.
I rested there, and took my time.
I slept amid the dew-cool thyme.
Serene, I saw what life could be…
Then spread my wings and flew off, free.
I don’t know just what made me go
Back home in summer’s early glow…
But on the heartfelt, wholesome track
I found my strength and brought it back.
…
