I buried Tiger & Wolfie last week. I used the same shovel we used to bury my Mamaw after we stood parallel lines up the side of the mountain down Blackberry Creek & passed her all the way up to be laid next to my Papaw. She was my woman. My matriarch. The only adult I have ever admired or looked up to. The first person who showed me what love actually means. The first person who ever truly saw me. I would do anything to hold her hand. Rest my head on her shoulder on her porch swing. Have her scold me for whistling while giving me a knowing grin. Have her beg me to never give a man the time of day. Hear her ask me to mash a button on the remote control. Hear her say "kindly" instead of "kind of." Tell her something off-beat & hear her say "lawwww a mercy!" Eat her cornbread, biscuits, gravy, & chocolate syrup (all from the Pyrex plates with the green daisies & with mismatched silverware). To steal a Cello cherry from her insanely squeaky pantry cabinet after she'd sawed a log or two in her bedroom, which would be filled with nothing but pink items embellished with layers of lace & fake pearls.
