Calvin Arthur Biggers

December 19, 1898 - July 17, 1985



A Message Across Time

I was living in a cabin on a beautiful piece of land along the Northfork of the Flathead River, a couple miles south of Polebridge, Montana. The year before I had attended my Granddaddy's funeral in San Mateo, Florida.  All these thousands of miles away from where my Granddaddy was laid to rest, here he was, able to come to me in that cabin as I slept.

Amazingly clear was his presence as we stood near his roadside honey stand, next to the overwhelming colorful blooming azaleas, the bushes engulfed like fire the base of the massive river oak whose mighty limbs draped over the stand. Whispery strands of Spanish moss broke free from the limbs above floating in the gentle morning Spring breeze. It was peaceful, we communed as my Granddaddy arranged the translucent jars of nectar, filled with flavorful orange blossom, gallberry, and wild flower honeys. The low morning sun allowing the colorful jars to glisten their beauty in the light around us, like the stained glass windows within a church.

My Granddaddy spoke to me in a language not of words, he had never left the previous year. My Grandmother had been long ailing for years from cancer.  He had been with her all this last year, continually at her side.  Here though on this beautiful day he was near his home, and the air was filled with the sweet scent of orange blossoms from his nearby grove. No longer would he prepare the calamondin marmalade, and bottle it in Mary Kate's Kitchen to sell at his legendary honor-system stand. I knew my Grandparents were leaving their Earthly realm this special day together.

Later when I awoke, I dressed, and drove up to the Polebridge Mercantile, and made the collect call to my mother in Florida. My Grandmother had passed earlier that day. Apparently my twilight encounter was far beyond the three hour time difference between Montana and Florida.

Written by KD Mathews    /    February 8th, 2018

The Life he Lived