yesterday - 7 years - hardly seemed possible when it happened - still painful when thought about - dwelled on - she was born in artesia california - 1929 - when i think about her - i think what she must have been like then - in the land of make believe - and palm trees - i have a photo of her with nannie - her mother - who was just a child herself - unsure steps -
i know the woman momma became - the one who taught us to play games of hide-n-seek when the electric company came and turned off the lights - games of make believe when the old television didn't work and games of 'when i grow up' when daddy stayed out drinking too late - she liked pretty things - and strong men - she loved children and good friends - i remember many things about her and miss her terribly - but one thing that sticks in my mind and i am not sure when i noticed this about her - but, when the food was scarce, she would suddenly be the one who wasn't very hungry - letting us kids eat first - i remember crying one time because she wouldn't eat and her sitting with me and sharing my plate of macaroni and cheese and how honored i felt -
when daddy died - rod and i lived in dallas - after the funeral we came back to dallas and i spent the next few days working on a tribute to him - i wrote a poem, created a shadow box with things that reminded me of him and a collage of photos - long story short - when momma died - i expected i would do the same for her - i just couldn't and still can't - that's a room i can't enter - right now.
i remember a conversation she and i had one afternoon over the phone - after we had to place her in the nursing home - when conversation would turn to her dying, she would say she was going to die and i would say no you aren't. and she would say - one day - and i would say - one day is a long way off. she paused and said toe - the way she did when she wanted me to listen or do something for her - i hoped she would say toe - i saw a pretty doll in the gift shop downstairs today - instead, she said that she knew i didn't want her to die and that she knew i loved her but when the time came - she said she wanted me to accept it. i will. i said - my throat choked up - she said she would still be around and whenever i needed to talk to her - to just close my eyes and know that she was in my heart and she was listening - somehow i croaked out - how - my roses - you'll smell my roses -
i am smellin the roses today, momma -
i love you.
emma jean moulder rash - momma - jan 6, 1929 - april 24, 2001