Momma Cried

My mother’s crying could be heard throughout the old colonial house.  Our old car sped out the driveway, and it was so late at night.  My 10 yr old feet were freezing as I trotted across the hardwood to the top of the stairs and opened the door.  My uncle stood there at the bottom of the staircase as I started down.  He stopped me.  “Go back to bed, it’s okay.  The baby is coming I think.”  My Mom was 8 months pregnant.  Back in my bedroom I began to softly cry; I was scared for Momma.  Then Nana was there sitting next to me, rubbing my back “It’s okay Angie Sue.  Momma’s fine, the baby is fine.  You go back to sleep, Nana is right here.”  As she slowly rubbed my back, her hand making those circles on my pajamas, I slept again.  The next morning Momma and Daddy came home, still pregnant, to tell me that Nanna had died last night. That’s why Momma was crying.  

 

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Author: MainelyButch

I am a pretty relaxed, proud, Butch and a native Mainer who enjoys reading, writing, blogging, vlogging and social interaction. I live in southern Maine, near the coast with my 2 small dogs and I hail from a very large, loving family that is historically rooted here. I write about my life, my experiences, living successfully with HIV, my YouTube experiences, and just about anything that piques my interest. This blog may contain profanity and sexual situations, and is not intended for younger audiences. Read at your own risk. At 54 I see life as just beginning a new chapter, and have decide this is the time that I need to write the stories that got me to this point. I believe we live our lives in chapters, changing, evolving and moving continuously with the times. I love to laugh, have discussions, debates and even the occasional nonsense conversation! I generally enjoy people, but not drama, hatred, ignorance or those who choose to feel they are somehow elite or superior to another simply due to their mere existence. I try to be very conscious of the health of the world around me - environmentally, socially, economically, and ethically. The people who are dear to me know me as having a tough exterior, filled with marshmallow and crunchy peanut butter. I continually strive to be the best I can be, especially to address life head on...always.

7 thoughts on “Momma Cried”

  1. What an amazing memory Ang….. I wish I had known Nana…. I’m sure she’s the reason you and Mom are so close. Love you both so much!

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