WITH MOM IN THE JEEP, OUR LAST MORNING
IN BOWBELLS, NORTH DAKOTA, DRIVING OUT TOWARDS FLAXTON,
MOM AT 82, FIRST TIME BACK TOGETHER, MOM:

  by Jim Bodeen

There’s Schoff’s Grove where we had picnics.

There’s Papa’s house.

People would pick me up before I got into town.

Not much left, but not torn down.
Look at the house in the grain without windows.
Eddie said he couldn’t bear to tear it out
For a few bushels of wheat.

Alice was born in that house.

There’s the road to my house.

Those trees. That’s where our house was.
Those groves of trees—that’s where I made
My mud cakes. The house is gone, of course.

If you don’t get turned around you’ll be in Canada.

Grandma—my Grandma Peterson—would feed
25-30 people in two shifts every Sunday.
Alice would have to clean up.

It’s great to see everybody.
It’s great to be here.

It gives me the chills.

I thought I could only have it in memory.