Mama

My Mama died Thursday morning.

I got the word from my estranged brother, via email, that she probably would not live more than eight days. I flew down to see her and to say goodbye, but I was four hours too late. I never got to see her.

I came back the same night.

Our home is full of teenage boys right now, two of them have a mother who is away to bury her grandmother with some other members of my family. There is not going to be a service. I can't be with my family. There are years of wounds and drama I have be away from.

Unexpectedly, my brother and I are finding some kind of peaceful and understanding middle ground through emails.

Mancub has gone through many changes since I last wrote here. He seems happy. I have eased up a huge amount on my issues. He is, after all, a teenager. I know he likes it here.

I spent today painting the extra room we are now renting to give us a bit more space. Fixing the "loft" up gives me some quiet, since the room is above the garage that is removed from the house - away from Mancub and the neffs. It keeps me busy, but allows my mind to drift in and out of thoughts. There is also the matter of doing something to feel rooted that is vital right now.

My mother loved basketball, black raspberries, ice cream, Julie Andrews, flowers, animals, I Love Lucy, Big Band Music, dancing, sewing, coffee, See's Candy, hot weather, Peanuts which she clipped from the paper each day, Rock Hudson, Robert Goulet, and her four children. Her four children didn't always love one another. But she always loved us.

When I was down there, I went to the cemetery where she will be buried, next to my Dad. I saw that he died in 1999. My oldest sister, who is buried there too, died in 1995. I had forgotten the years for both of them. I thought it was much more recent. My Mama and Dad had been married for 58 years when he died. On Monday, they will be side by side.

The boys are laughing and rough housing and being loud. Right now it is a bit too much for me, but I also know this is how the world turns. This is how life is. It goes on. It changes forms, but it goes on.

Papa Seed is cooking dinner and asking the boys to take their noise elsewhere. I think they are going to have a fire in the pit in back. Mancub came up and brought me some chocolate truffles.