Last Words by Gg the StoryTeller

I woke up this morning and boy was  it a mourning. I’m thinking about my relationships with my relatives since my mother died  and I'm thinking about her and another layer I didn't even know I had, drops. 

My mother died in 1985 and I was thinking about the last words I said to her. She was in a lot of pain the last time I saw her. I could see it. I could feel it. 

While she was laying in her hospital bed, she reached for my hands, for me, to pray for her.  At that time, I didn't feel like I had anything in me to pray with or for anyone. She grabbed my hands with such confidence like I was her last hope to get past the cancer that had inflicted  her body. 

After days of fasting and prayer, I learned, sometimes, the answer to your prayers could be a no. You could have all the hope and faith you want, but when it is time for your loved ones to transition, they will give up the ghost. 

The soul has transitioned and the life mission has ended. But how could my mother’s mission be over? I was 25 with 2 boys and my estranged husband was still a boy at 26. I was naive and he was no help at all.

 My mother was gone and I had no one. Oh I had older siblings, but when you are different and not a follower, or you don't have ‘negropean’ status, you tend to be the black sheep of the family. So my last words to my mother was me begging her not to leave me with them.

 It’s been 36 years and sometimes the memories of my mother will creep up  and there I am, tears falling. I’m remembering those last words to my mother and the tears fall this morning.