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Description
Long ago I met her. Long before I could say her name, or do more than hold her finger tightly with my speck of a hand. She, like all things in those tender..infantile days, was a blur..but a familiar blur. And her eyes were grey-blue. Years passed, and I gave her a name. She was the most enlightened soul Ive ever met. Teacher, listener, sister, mother. Guide.
She was my grandmother.
She passed away, some years ago.. an early demise ( but they say she was found smiling, not terrified of her death at all. ) The one thing she gave of willingly, had failed her. Humans are such fragile things, and hearts can only beat so long.
At her funeral, the home was so full of people who knew her, loved her, that they had to open both the sets of double doors. Such was her fame, even in that small..insignificant town in Ohio.
I could not be there that day. But my words were.
I remember many things of my grandmother. Her sense of humour, sneezes, her laughter. The familiar scent of her brand of cigarette smoke. The feel of her leather handbag, black and bulging with whatever she would need..come any emergency. But she wasnt afraid of those emergencies..she was merely prepared.
And I remember she once combed my hair for a full hour. Long strokes of a fine bristle brush, and her fingertips on my scalp, as she told me stories of my greatgrandmother, who was a Native American. She told me " She had long, straight, glossy black hair..right up until the day she passed away. Not a grey hair, no streaks of silver. And she used to comb her hair, just like this, for hours. "
Sometime after my grandmother passed away, I was given a package of photographs of her,and of myself with her. And it was then truly studied the face of my grandmother. There, in the faded photographs..I noticed something. Something in her eyes, and her mouth, and her fine hair.
And everytime I look in the mirror..I see it still.
The same angular jawline, the same pale complexion. That near masculine form. The same noble brow. And I smile.
Knowing I have Mona's eyes.
self-selfish-selfless.
Comments (6)
Eromanric
I realy love the contrasting lighting and the play of shadow across your face in this one. Very Cool!
cynlee
that is beautiful! your memory & writing of her... you paint a wonderful picture with your words... a piece of her lives in your image... bless mona :]
raven_nightmares
She must have been very beautiful...and it is nice to know she lives on inside you. I just wish the forever black hair ran in MY family *plucks out the grey...
Mikan
very beautiful that you remember of her alost every day...rest in piece! and you >>> enjoy your life!
addiek
You really have a gift of sharing your reflections and I can quite believe you have American Indian blood. Your facial features reflect this interesting mix. An interesting recollection... Grandmothers are so dear!
summer1412
Oh wow, that's so beautiful!!! You've got my crying over here...! Wow, wonderful, wonderuful, wonderful work, Ana.