November 8, 1932-August 13, 2012
Last night my mama and I drove to the funeral home for the viewing of my great uncle Cotton. Visitation at funerals always leaves me with a mixed bag of thoughts. Of course, there is always a wish to comfort the family of there loss but often there's a kind of connection a person can only get from being surrounded by family and true loved ones. I am blessed to come from a large family on both my mothers side and my fathers side, so when a death comes along there is quite a turnout.
I hadn't attended the Williams family reunion in quite sometime. Seeing aunts, uncles, and cousins I hadn't seen in a long time is honestly entertaining. The comments are always made about how good the older relatives are looking or at least how well they are looking for there age and of course they always hug my neck just like I was twelve years old again. I have to admit those kind of hugs make me feel like I'm twelve again. My sister and I sat down on the bench beside Mama and we whisper to each other, as we compare who looks like who, and how nice it is too see everyones children. I also get a little melancholy while noting all the family members that have past on since the last visit at the funeral home. I'm not a person who dwells in the past but it makes me wonder what will become of our world when the souls that make-up the foundation of our families are gone.
Uncle Cotton was one of those stones. He had been nicknames "Cotton" when he was a small child because of his cotton white hair. I have only know him with white hair so the name Cotton always fit him well. Cotton was an excellent farmer. He grew some of the best tomatoes you'll ever see. He loved his wife and two daughters. He always had a smile and a kind word. There was no doubt he loved God. I also want to share a poem Cotton wrote about thirty-five years ago. It is about the church he attended. When the church was first established it was located in old store building on the side of Highway 704. Since then, the church has grown to a wonderful number and resides in the beautiful building. It is the church he attended until he was called home.
The Old Country Church
by Cotton Williams
I love the Old Country Church
Even though it doesn't have a steeple.
You can look everywhere.
You will not fine any better people.
We have as good a preacher
As I have ever heard.
Why? Because he preaches the true gospel Word.
I know that people are falling away.
It is not the Preacher.
Oh, how I wish they would stay.
I know that it's hard to face empty pews.
But wherever you go, you will find just a few.
He teaches the Word of God,
That's why they won't stay.
But to me, it's good until judgement day.
I have heard lots of other preachers,
They all know the way
But he is the on that makes me want to stay.
I know this poem is probably very simple to alot of folks but I liked it. It was the words of his heart. Thank you for stopping by Southern Direction. I encourage you to make time for your family; they can't be replaced and as always I wish you a blessed day.
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