Your Chair

Some of our folks were here this past weekend for the “little” family reunion. Since it’s an off-year, your sisters, nieces, and nephews from Texas were the only ones to come. Your little brother from San Francisco wasn’t here, and neither was your little brother who lives in Texas. Since this wasn’t the “big” reunion, we didn’t expect Grady to come. We probably shouldn’t have expected Santee, either.

I was so happy to see everyone. Aunt Mae Ethel and Uncle Clydell were here, and the years are catching up with them. They’re also catching up with Aunt Sugardoll. All of them, though, are still getting around. Aunt Adeline wasn’t here this year. I missed seeing her, but I know Jackie-Nett would have brought her if at all possible.

That Chair

For the most part, your recliner sat empty. Oh, occasionally, someone would flop down in it, but no one sat there for a prolonged period. At one point, Uncle Clydell made a pit-stop and needed to sit for a few. I sat there a long time. Overall, we were the only ones. Your chair sat empty, even though there were over 30 people here.

I wish more than anything you had been here to take your rightful place in that chair. I wish you had been here to eat all of the delicious, down-home food that our reunions are known for. I wish you were here to agree with your sisters and ALL my cousins in telling me that I need a boyfriend. They were dead serious. I told them all that I miss part of a “union” and I do. I also told them that after 19 years of being treated so poorly, I won’t rush into anything. While my heart’s not too fragile for a relationship, I won’t waste my time and energy on anyone who isn’t interested in the future. I’m very protective of my heart and my feelings. They all agreed.

I wish more than anything you had been here to fuss at me for not wanting to help clear away the dishes and clean. I wish you had been here to tell me I should have had on a dress or skirt instead of those pants.

The Broken Heart

I miss you so much. I miss you so much some days that I nearly loose my breath. I sat in your chair longer than anyone else this weekend. I needed to feel near you, Mama. I still visit the cemetery every single day. It seems that lately, I’m more lost than ever without you. I talk to you constantly and wish more than anything, I could see you just one more time. I can’t get the last image of you out of my mind. The last time I saw you before the funeral was shortly after you passed on and while you looked at peace, I couldn’t help but think about all the horrific pain you had been in those two days before you finally drifted off into eternal sleep. It destroys me every time I think about it. Septic shock took you in the end.

To be honest, I know you weren’t fighting very hard because I know you were tired. You told me that a million times. I knew you were tired that Thursday afternoon when they finally got you to Willis Knighton’s ICU. I knew, when you could actually hear me (without my yelling) tell you that it was okay for you to go, it wouldn’t be long. I knew as I tried so hard to keep up with the ambulance that carried you to the little hospital in Springhill, that you were leaving home for the last time. I knew you would never sit in that chair again.

Till We Meet Again

In my spirit, I feel that God is going to allow me to live to see as many years as he allowed you to see. In that light, it will be quite some time before I cross over into glory, but I can’t wait to see you and Daddy again. Just know that until then, my hearts bleeds for you, Mama.




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