Wednesday, April 16, 2014

I Will Know Only When ...The Time Comes

I Will Know Only When ...The Time Comes
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee


Tommy's Chest...  This is all I have of ... my son.  Opening the lid to this chest is one of the hardest things to do.  I have tried... it's heavy with grief.  I've opened it twice since May 29, 2010.  Inside are Tommy's things... also, my tears from when I looked in it.




I guess it stands to reason, for me to have Tommy on my mind a lot lately. Another holiday will soon be here... all mothers think of their children. Holidays were special through the years... made that way for a child.

Looking at Tommy's photos... I can't believe he's not here. In his photos, I see a strong, big guy with a sunshine smile. I can still hear his voice in my mind. Oh my God... I really can.

I still know what it sounds like. Suppose I ever heard someone speak like him? I don't know what reaction I would have. My stomach feel like butterflies are flying around in it. Panicky...

I've been thinking about his chest ... in my mind, I can see it. It's a beautiful, deep red, upholstered chest. It sits in my art room... I wish I could get it, bring it to the table... open it, take the few things out that are... his.

I would like to hold them in my hands... close my eyes... 'feel' them with my heart. Smell them... to see if I can find the scent of my son. Maybe on his hat... the hat he had on... at his last moment on the beach.

There's a plastic box in his chest... one that I would have to open, take the contents out. This ... is the box that can cause me intense pain, grief. I can't talk about it... now.

I don't know if I will get the courage to take his chest down from where it sits... bring it to the table at this holiday. I will know only when ...the time comes....

 

 
 

 

 

 



 

1 comment:

  1. Only you will know if you think you can handle opening the chest and taking something out of it. If you do, please be careful. I don't want you back in the dark world! I can understand that you want to smell his hat to bring back that memory--feeling---of being close to him again. Love, Ms. Nancy

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