She's turning 84 soon.
I don't remember exactly the last time I saw her but I think it was at the funeral.
Death weighs heavy on hearts that love,
And she had become weak.
You could see it.
See it in her eyes when she cried.
You could see it in her hands.
Oh her hands.
As weird as it may be, her hands were the first thing that I remember about her.
She wore bands around every finger, like the rings of a tree truck when love has aged into something less adoring.
Yes she was a widow but she was the Queen.
Being too young for school, my sister and I went to her house every week.
And like clockwork she repeated every move she had done the day before and the one before that.
I remember how much she loved to knit and crochet.
I told her that I wanted to learn and she told me "good for you. You'll see it is very relaxing. Doing the same things, you don't really think about what you're doing anymore"
I crochet whenever I have the time and I now know what she meant.
Most times then not, I seem to day dream; thinking, about anything.
I remember her collection of books and newspapers, the bibles that she kept by her chair.
Of course they weren't of my interest but because they were to her, she would always be reading this one book.
Even when she fell asleep, she could not put the book down.
She had told me that she read it 4 times and she planed to do it again.
It was called "Julie of the Wolves"
I bought this book a few years ago and I still can't find it interesting.
It sits on my shelf, untouched, but unforgotten.
She is a babysitter, and a mother as well as a grandmother.
Family and friends were always over at her house, company was always welcome.
She had many kids, and her kids had many grandkids.
Her friends that came over so often had kids that had kids and it took me a while to realize it but,
She was old.
She is old.
She is a family tree that has grown bigger than most because of the love she spreads.
She tought me things without even realizing it.
I learned how too make the perfect peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
There wasn't too much of either and she always cut the sand which in half to help my sister and I know the good of sharing.
Almost like herself,
She wasn't too strick or too nurturing, she treated everyone equally and did nothing but that.
Its been 8 years.
Her daughter passed away, I'm still not exactly sure how or why.
It was the only funural I was ever invited to, and I cried.
I cried when I saw how hurt she was, how hurt everyone was.
I didn't understand death until that day.
I looked at Tanya's body and I realized why she was hiden under a sheet.
Its been 8 yeas since I have seen her.
I follow her on Facebook, the only way I can keep an update on her.
Death weighs heavy on hearts that love, and she has become weak.
She is fragile and old, I know this.
Its because I was just invited to her 84th surprise birthday party that I was bombarded with memories of her.
This woman has changed my life, not just by being her, for giving birth to amazing people, for introducing me the people that I know as friends today.
Her name is Charlotte, she likes to repeat things over and over again.
Sooner or later you don't even start to think about it anymore.
You just day dream, and think,
about anything.