Close your eyes. See if you can remember. She was the only one who could gather the family in. She had an easy smile, and would hum upon entering her kitchen. With a detailed eye, and a certain bend of her wrist, she would make the perfect gravy. It has been two weeks since her funeral. You feel you have gathered your strength, and return to work, courageously wearing mascara. You wear her favorite wool cardigan, the slate blue one with the Swiss dots. It is tangible proof of her presence. You break for lunch, reach into the pocket for your lunch ticket, instead, you find an unused eight inch portion of dental floss. Your coworkers become instantly uncomfortable with the unpredictable tears splashing down your cheeks as you quietly hold the floss. You don't even try to explain why a piece of dental floss makes you cry, but you know your mother. She was fastidious about her teeth, and everybody loved her smile. Your confused coworkers respectfully leave you alone, one giving you a gentle shoulder squeeze on her way out. You cry freely, your soul person body slamming into its ribcage. What on earth will you do without your little mother? Grief is obligatory. It is post partum pain or inching your way home in a nighttime blizzard. It is an icy mud puddle, too big to jump. You just have to slosh through it. If you are blessed, you'll be steadied by God's hand, and see loved ones waiting on its edge with dry towel and warm boots. Even after fifteen years, you still, on rare occasions, find yourself navigating tiny mud puddles of grief. Close you eyes. See if you can remember... this last Thanksgiving Day. You gather the family in with your easy smile. Your sister is in her kitchen, humming a blues version of Amazing Grace. With a detailed eye, and a certain bend of her wrist, she makes the perfect gravy. " Lord, Thou hast been our dwelling place in all generations..." Psalms 90:1
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5 comments:
My own tears splash on the keyboard. That piece is written so beautifully and real. I could see your mom in the blue sweater and hear her humming a tune! Annie, you certainly have a gift for writing. I am so proud of you!
-Adell
Oh, my dearie, i sure love you! You have been a surrogate mama. It was you who taught me how to give my slippery babies their first bath!! I miss you. love, annie
This is sooo beautiful my dear friend. Your mom was a treasure. I miss you and love you. Colleen
Thanks my sis, i wonder if she is in charge of the gravy in Heaven? LOVE TO YOU! ~annie
Funny thing, but what I remember about her most is that she always seemed to "beam". Always seemed to smile.
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