Memoriam, May 2009
Her hands were small, but perfectly formed.
They were always busy--------cleaning something, cooking something, loving or petting on someone. I do not remember a time when they weren't busy.
Her nails were burgundy red. Always.
Since age 16 she wore a shade of burgundy----and it suited her, with her pale, pale skin and her mink black hair. She was her own version of Snow White.
If I grew too restless in church, or was winding down for the night, she would put my head in her lap and stroke my hair. I would become peaceful then. I would know that I was loved when those small motherly hands were in my hair, combing it, putting it up in ponytails or dog-ears.
When she died, I placed my head in her lap one more time and put her hand on my head. I didn't know how else to say goodbye. It would be the last chance I had to know her this way. One last loving touch.
When I went to the funeral director I brought her best shade of burgundy and asked them to paint her nails a fresh shade. I insisted that her toes be done too. Mom was nothing if not particular. She would have liked to look her best.
Thank you Mom for everything.
I will try to be the person you raised me to be.
I will try to do as you have taught me.
Much love to you in heaven-------love on Dad, say hello to "prissy", because all dogs do go to heaven, and say hello to my baby brother.
I look forward to meeting him one day.
Many blessings to you in this new phase of life-------and hope that your nails there are as pretty as they were here.