{"id":4037,"date":"2012-08-17T15:13:36","date_gmt":"2012-08-17T19:13:36","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/web.colby.edu\/csc-mcnair\/?page_id=4037"},"modified":"2012-08-17T15:13:36","modified_gmt":"2012-08-17T19:13:36","slug":"the-ministers-death","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/web.colby.edu\/csc-mcnair\/the-ministers-death\/","title":{"rendered":"The Minister&#8217;s Death"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>That long fall,<br \/>\nwhen the voices stopped<br \/>\nin the tweed mouth<br \/>\nof his radio, and sermons<br \/>\nstood behind the door<br \/>\nof his study in files<br \/>\nno one would ever again inspect,<br \/>\nand even the black shoes<br \/>\nand vestments, emptied of him,<br \/>\nwere closed away,<br \/>\nthey sat together Sundays<br \/>\nin the house, now hers \u2014<br \/>\nthe son wearing his suit<br \/>\nand water-combed hair,<br \/>\nand mother in a house dress,<br \/>\nholding the dead<br \/>\nman\u2019s cane. Somewhere<br \/>\nat the edge of the new<br \/>\nfeeling just beginning<br \/>\nbetween them, floorlamps<br \/>\nbloomed triple bulbs<br \/>\nand windowsills sagged<br \/>\nwith African violets,<br \/>\nand the old woman,<br \/>\nnot knowing exactly how<br \/>\nto say his face looked lovely<br \/>\nin the chair, encircled<br \/>\nby a white aura<br \/>\nof doily, said nothing<br \/>\nat all. And the son,<br \/>\nnot used to feeling<br \/>\nsmall inside the great<br \/>\nshoulderpads of his suit,<br \/>\nlooked down at the rugs<br \/>\non rugs to where the trees kept<br \/>\nscattering the same, soft<br \/>\npuzzle of sunlight<br \/>\nuntil, from time to time,<br \/>\nshe found the words<br \/>\nof an old dialogue they both<br \/>\ncould speak:\u201dHow has the weather<br \/>\nbeen this week? What time<br \/>\ndid you start out from Keene?\u201d<\/p>\n<p><em>-Wesley McNair<\/em><\/p>\n<!--themify_builder_content-->\n<div id=\"themify_builder_content-4037\" data-postid=\"4037\" class=\"themify_builder_content themify_builder_content-4037 themify_builder tf_clear\">\n    <\/div>\n<!--\/themify_builder_content-->\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>That long fall, when the voices stopped in the tweed mouth of his radio, and sermons stood behind the door of his study in files no one would ever again inspect, and even the black shoes and vestments, emptied of him, were closed away, they sat together Sundays in the house, now hers \u2014 the [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2341,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","template":"","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"builder_content":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/web.colby.edu\/csc-mcnair\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/4037"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/web.colby.edu\/csc-mcnair\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/web.colby.edu\/csc-mcnair\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/web.colby.edu\/csc-mcnair\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2341"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/web.colby.edu\/csc-mcnair\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4037"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/web.colby.edu\/csc-mcnair\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/4037\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4038,"href":"https:\/\/web.colby.edu\/csc-mcnair\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/4037\/revisions\/4038"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/web.colby.edu\/csc-mcnair\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4037"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}