The Rest of Mercy’s Story

I knew I would have to tell y’all. I thought I’d waited long enough that I might be able to do it without crying. I was wrong. Again.

Last Sunday I flew home from Georgia and landed in Monroe, LA. My first stop on the drive home from the airport was Highway 2. I needed to see my man in the worst way and that meant riding the combine with him as he harvested corn. We enjoyed a sweet reunion as the big machine lumbered down the field, and of course, I insisted on taking pictures. It would not bo...