The Makings Of You

Moment: My beautiful intelligent grandmother is fighting a losing battle with “old timers” as it was once called, because I can’t claim the diagnosis. A women who was raised a child of 12 on a sharecroppers farm…..stories of sharing pencils and shoes, picking cotton and pulling peanuts, has no idea who her children are. A women whom worked her way through Prairie View College to go on to be a newspaper editor then to work for the government, finding the love of her life and who as of today has no idea she has a great grand child. A women who introduced me to reading by giving me a copy of Ralph Ellisons “Flying Home”, nope not Invisible Man….humble enough to let me read the first 50 pages or so before I learned they were friends, her name splashed acrossed his pages….yes he wrote about her. A women who has no idea who I am. My heart is breaking knowing that this vibrant women is missing and no one can find her, not even she herself. I miss my grandmother even though she’s still here, shell hollow but still full of smiles and awkward laughs because we all know she doesn’t remember as we stroll down memory lane. What are we but the memories we have of the life we lived? I’ll always luv hur ……no matter what ……but I miss hur