Mozella

Mozella

A Story by Dunlack
"

Who would have thought a spit cup and a raggedy green jacket could accompany so much wisdom.

"

My heart. You kept it beating. Without your love supporting it as an Iv, it would have shriveled up many years ago. Growing up, vaguely, I can recall a halo hovering steady above your head as you slumbered. No matter how frequently Satan set his trap from hell, you never fell in. Instead you consistently cleared his hole of fate oh so gracefully. Carrying on as if God had just knelt down and blessed your feet. Often times, I was under the assumption that my Lord had asked for your hand in marriage. Who knows, maybe he did. If so, I'm sure you accepted. And when pain approached you with his finest presentation, it was never enough to win you over. While you sat in your old leather chair, I would hear you utter softly "sorry pain, I'm already taken."

 

I guess that's why you were a Goddess in my eyes. Remember how warm the house use to be? Ironically, you kept a jacket across your shoulders from sun up to sun down. How was I supposed to know you were suffering from thinning blood? Still, you broke bread with any child whom lacked the nurturing warmth of their mother. When I hated the very seed I sprouted from. Not understanding why he couldn't keep his nose clean, you reminded me that often times you took a Kleenex to mines. I guess to you, whether it was his cocaine snorting or my mucus running, we all possess imperfections. You helped me realize without him I wouldn't have swum in my mother’s shore. To one day have the opportunity to carry on a legacy that you laid the foundation for.

 

Under your watch, I couldn't comprehend the importance of our precious time spent as one. My ignorance wouldn't allow me to grasp the reality that your life was advancing well beyond a quarter past 6. I was certain your clock would tick with no end. The first time you loss consciousness, I had

to ask myself where did she go? Did God call her up briefly for a tour? To show her the harp she will soon play for an eternity, or did he allow her to taste test the milk and honey that solidifies heaven as an unworldly place of residency. If heaven was where you snuck off too, I couldn't be upset at what was to come.  At least you were headed to a place free of all the world's ills. Honestly, avoiding the reality of a losing battle to a few ills of your own was my reality. The day you left me I didn't know how to feel.

 

What baffled my comprehension more than anything was your hour of departure. I received the phone call around 12. You had completed the cycle of time. Your flesh-coated clock had ticked until it couldn't tick anymore. To this very day I regret not seeing your face before you were laid to rest. I just wanted to remember you as the woman you were, not the woman makeup and embalming fluid made you out to be...No makeup could makeup my dying desire for you to wakeup...Though your casket has dropped six feet below the earth, I know your spirit didn't follow suit. So as my ride on this grieving train comes to an end, I want you to know you'll forever be the reason live…the reason I refuse to give up and die. And Granddaddy I haven't forgot about you. I'm just opening the door to allow your lady to walk through first.

© 2013 Dunlack


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This is really touching, there's enough ambiguity at the start to keep the reader basking in every word. The end was just lovely and it's full of feels. I especially like the line 'Your flesh-coated clock had ticked until it couldn't tick anymore.'

Thanks for sharing :)

Posted 10 Years Ago



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Added on April 21, 2013
Last Updated on April 21, 2013

Author

Dunlack
Dunlack

Chicago, IL



About
I'm a young writer from the city of Charlotte, NC with the ambitions of being known world wide for my work. I'm a Graduate of Gardner-Webb University, and will be furthering my education at DePaul Uni.. more..

Writing
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A Story by Dunlack