Thursday, March 8, 2012
Every family calls the grandparents differnt names. In the South mother and father are Mamma and Daddy and for us, my mother's parents were Mom & Papa. The name was probably even more fitting as there were times that Mom was closer to being a mother to us than my own mother. We moved a lot in my early years; Mom & Papa were always home base. I was more comfortable in their house than any other house we lived in. My best and worst memories were created in that house. Most things that are great about me, and all things that are bad about me, were formed there. The smell of coffee, musty libraries, fig trees and tiger lilies, and the sound of chirping frogs and the click of flying insects hitting a screen door bring me back to that house.
Mom passed away today. It had been a long time since I last spoke with her. A long time being close to 20 years. Some who read this blog know what my family past is. For those who aren't you'll have to be left wondering. But she passed away today. In Lousiana where what little roots I have lie. I am in England. I always thought she would be the one person I would go back to say good-bye to. But it couldn't happen. And maybe I'm a little bit relieved.
I'm sad for my brother because I think he'll feel sorrow the most. I'm sad because it's another door to my past that has been closed for good. But I think at the very base of it, I'm sad for things that I never had. She was a person who lived and died, just as we all will live and die, but there are no familial heart strings and turmoil to be played on. I'm sad because I'm not sad enough.
I spent many late nights saying my prayers with her, counting the beads on my delicate blue glass beaded rosary. Tonight my prayers are that she finds peace in the afterlife to come.