(Louisa Short May 7th 1986 )
Not for sure how I’m feeling right now. I look at my life since Mommy passed and I truly wonder if she would be proud of me, of my action or inaction or how I have raised my children. I often daydream of her giving me advice when Alex and Tajghi are at each others’ throats (which are all the time unfortunately). I wonder if she’d tell me “Honeychile, they’ll work it out and still love each other”. Or, if she would just look at me, light another Camel, sip her cream colored coffee and exclaim, “It could be worse, you know your Aunt Rosalee tried killing your dad with you’uns in the car at the funeral home.”
I take photo’s, each with her in the back of my mind. I think, she would love this shot. She would love the light and dark of this evening photo and she would smile and do that wink of hers and tell me “Can you make me a copy of this? I want to hang it in the living room”.
I know there has been times in my life that she would have went out back to cut a switch and threaten me with it. Those are the times that I wonder about. IF she would have used it on me, because Goddess knows, I deserved it, and Goddess knows I would have stood and took it. In retrospect, she never raised her voice to me, let alone her hand.
I miss her. I miss her voice, her laugh, her smile, her Louisie fits, and her soft touch. I miss her hugs, her teachings, and the time that we had together. There is NOTHING that I don’t miss where she is concerned.
I know she’s with me. I know. I know know know this for a fact. I’ve seen her, heard her whisper in the darkest of night. I’ve smelled her perfume and the fragrance of violets and honeysuckle at times when I have been most stressed.
But still…her arms around me was my comfort…and I miss that most of all
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