Ever stand in front of a mirror and just stare at yourself for a while? What happened? Did you check out your wonderful/flawed physical features? Did you begin to talk to yourself? Did you sing? I did it just a few days ago and the reflection lacked any type of humor. I realized that I am angry.

For mother’s day, my family went to go pay a visit to my mother at her old South Carolina church’s backyard cemetery. My mother’s parents are also buried within the same vicinity. I didn’t come with a fist full of flowers; just closed fists…angry that I had to even make this trip for this occasion. Don’t be mistaken; I wasn’t mad at her. I was upset with the situation.

Her tombstone wears a colored photograph of her smiling from ear to ear. My nephews are young but old enough to remember her face and what she meant to them. They chuckled with excitement when they saw her picture as if she stood right before them. My niece never had the pleasure of being in her presence so when she saw the photo she just stared.

My sisters and dad say things internally to her. I guess it’s our own form of communication with her. We also do the same with our grandparents; making sure to visit everyone while we’re there.

Back at our rental hut, I dismissed myself from everyone. I couldn’t help but to think about that dreadful day. All of the “what if” questions crowded my head only to be answered by the realization of her demise. As I stood in the mirror wiping my eyes of its moisture and my arms extended aside my waist, I was left with her memories and fists full of tears.

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