honest memories....

I often find my self 'Talking' to my mamaw. She passed away a few years ago, my mind cannot remember the date, as it cannot remember her birthday, I think I mourn the loss enough without remembering specific days to make it all the worse, so for this I am very glad. I remember losing other people, I remember their specific days, but I can't with you, it becomes a blur. I miss calling you and catching up, I miss laughing at my dad and you laughing at me, and telling me about things from when I was little. Or about my dad when he was my age, the fights he and Aunt Carolyn used to have (I think you said he broker her arm once or something) But now I can't remember the details, not without you hear. I remember each and every thing about your apartment, and I remember your old apartment and how wonderful I thought it was. You lived in the city, and I thought it was so wonderful and exotic.
I wish I could send you post cards now, and I will I could tell you all about what is happening, get your opinion and tell you my stresses. You were some how this wonderful source of secret holding, a bit of an independent party offering sound advice, a listening ear, and consistent loving. I remember at your funeral, Kelly (our family friend and pastor) asked for memories about you, I couldn't talk, I didn't say anything. There were so many wonderful fun memories spinning around in my head, but I couldn't share them. I think they ended up deciding to ask my cousins, the ones whom had always lived closer to you, they would surely have more memories. But when he shared them with the congregation he didn't mention you letting me actually take an egg and break it on the side walk because we concluded together that it was surely hot enough to fry an egg (it did nothing, just kind of sat there, and we laughed). He didn't talk about you scrubbing my hair so hard with your long nails as you washed it, or over watering my mom's benjamina ficus plant while we were away on holiday. He didn't mention your stories of Moody's goose or poking my stomach to find "empty" spots when I said I was full and simply could not eat anymore, you would find a spot. He didn't mention your consistent mix up of Jamie and I's names and how you used to sing Chantilly lace and the song with the moon hitting the sky and the big pizza pie. He didn't because I couldn't open my mouth. I remember them all daily though. I remember calling you at the end, and you being tired on the phone, I told you that you would get better again, that you would be fine... and I remember you telling me that you didn't think you would that time. It broke my heart, more than you would ever know. I wanted nothing more than to drive down and just hold you, I wanted to sit there with you and hang out, I wanted so bad for everything to go back to how it was, talking about dresses and silly stories and good food. Dad said I couldn't that I shouldn't, that he didn't want me to see you at that state, but I don't know that I will ever forgive myself for listening to him (probably the only time I will say that in my life).
You always took care of me, even when you were sick, I still remember feeling so horribly sick on my last visit with you. You laid me down and put a cool wash cloth on my head. You with your bald head and your long moo moo dress on. I listen to "At Last" by Etta James, and the tears fall. It is a bit of the emotional cutter in me, I know I will cry, not even cry but sob, but I still do it anyway, it is like a force that I cannot stop, it just helps me to feel a bit closer to you.
I wish you could have met Alex, you would love him, absolutely adore him. I can hear you now going on and on about him. I try to explain you to him, to share with him the love and passion  you had, but I can't just do you justice. In a way, I feel like he doesn't know all of me, or can't, not without knowing you. I wish you could hold my children, and give them your wonderful hugs and kisses, tease them and tell them the embarrassing stories from when I was little.
I know there is nothing I can do to bring you back, but I will continue to remember you every day, I will still cry at the thoughts of you. I will try not to because I am sure it isn't what you would want, but I am not strong enough not to.