Long Hollow

     Summer clouds remind me of Mam-ma's hair – so white and fluffy. She was my mother's mother…my grandmother…my babysitter and more. 

     Yesterday would have been Mam-ma's 103rd birthday. Acute leukemia took her just before she turned eighty-eight.  Her death was the catalyst Tom and I needed to get our family away from the Houston Ship Channel area; within a couple of years, we were living outside of Austin.

    It's hard to believe that much time has passed since her death…perhaps because she was such a big part of my life…perhaps because I think of her so often. I miss her, of course, but I'm at peace with her death; one night, a few weeks after her funeral, I woke to her voice calling me. She was standing in our bedroom, looking radiant. She wore a brightly colored dress, her hair was done just right, and she exuded happiness. I immediately went to her and hugged her. If I close my eyes, I can still feel that last hug, feel her softness within my arms, feel her hugging me back.

    "How are you?" I asked, still confused and marveling at the sight of her – not just that she was in my room, but also how she glowed with happiness and health, so unlike those last days in the hospital.

    I think she told me she "was just fine, don't worry," then she said "Tell your mother hello for me."

    The next day logic insisted it was only a dream; but my heart feels it was more. I think she talked God into letting her come for that visit to grant us peace in her passing, to let us know she really was in a better place.  That's how much she loved us – how could God say no? 

First photo: Mam-ma with Mama and Kendall, December 1991

Second photo: Tommy, Daniel (Look at that face! Something didn't taste good!) and Mam-ma, August 1991