A Prayer before dying part.2

Please read part 1 first

The noise of commotion draws me from my sleepless dream, and I hear quiet sobs and tears from the little ones gathered near death bed. Older voices coo and hush and try to bring comfort and reassurance to these little chicks. Oh, my sweet ones, I have not yet left this broken body, I’m only revisiting my life like some old film reel on a projector, but the cannot hear because my my body no longer has nay movement left within it, my mouth no longer opens and closes shut, my tongue like the resting adder.

Still, although, I cannot move or see the physical world  I am close to leaving behind, I do not fret or worry myself over much for my family, a serene calmness has washed over me and I instinctively know that everything will be just dandy! Oh and I can smell just fine I’ll thank you. various scents tickle my nose, smells of talc powder, hairspray, lavender soap and the fresh fragrance of the orange, vanilla scented perfume I always liked of little Bethany-may. Such a sweet child, always was my favourite if I can be honest now, always had time for her gran-ma-mere. I used to sit her on my lap and tell her stories of when I was but her age, she always seemed fascinated that I could have ev’r been but a child myself.

I smile inwardly and the recollection of this thought sends me back once more into my past.

Mamma always used to bake these little cheery scones for us every other Sunday. They  were a treat after returning home from Reverend Jacob’s Pentecostal Church of the Nativity. I was older now, a teenager trying to find her way in life, hanging out with friends, giggling at the boys who were always trying to get with me and my friends Sharise and Violet. I didn’t care much for it then as it seemed a drag to the fun I was having with ma friends, but you dern’t miss it or say you was ill, or mama would have smacked you sideways. Daddy on the other hand, was getting poorly in those later days, his health was never the same after the accident, he was more slow, less able and I guess it kinda made him more patient, more tolerant of me seeing how health was taken for granted. Reliving these memories now, I also guess mama felth that she needed to be stonger for both of them in case there was ever any trouble with me.

Over the next number a years, I blossomed into quite the quite the sweetheart with a knock-em-dead figure and face that coulda been on billboards (if I do say so myself). I would attract boys from all over town ( on account a me being a half-cast as they called it back then) and boy did I act up on it. I would not leave the house without being primed to the nines as we called it. Boys would wait on me till I got out of my little job at the grocery store, offering to take me home. Some of them used ta hang out near my house, the whistles I got when I walked down the street, used to send my mama mad. Daddy too, although he didn’t really have the energy much to stay mad, I used to think mama was over reacting and daddy not so much, but now I can see the sadness in his eyes, his broken heart as his little girl flaunted and teased her way to her early twenties.  I see now that it was my selfishness and worry and stress I brought upon him that led to his rapid loss of health and early death..

End of Part two

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