Lost

Arthritis crippled her hands a few years back. It forced her to keep them in a permanent balled up, crooked position. When she said she had problems with the condition, I figured that she had to be in real bad pain. I felt for her. I’d want her to quickly take a Tylenol.
Her hands, dark and aged, they held a many of her babies and wiped a many of counters.
She’d look at you with her brown eyes and you could see a caring soul. At home she would feed anybody passing.
We would sit in church every Sunday, side by side. She would make a special spot for me to sit underneath her as if I were her own daughter. Matter of fact, I did move her own child to the pew in front of us. As if I knew how to love her just right too.
She had a warm heart and as kind. When the collection plate came around she would always reach her hands into her purse and give me money.
“Here Bran, some money for the collection plate and some money for you. God put it on my mind to give this to you,” she’d say in a low voice so others around us wouldn’t hear that she was extra sweet to me. Folk could get jealous, in church too, let me tell you.
“Thank you, kindly,” I would return in a whisper. The choir sang in the background and people got up to put money in the basket. I put my money up and walked back to my seat. I’d smile at her and she’d just nod her head. I knew to further hush because, like I said, we didn’t want anyone to know I had extra money.
I’d take my money and buy some much needed stuff for my room at school.
She came to church with treats like that for me all the time.
Now, you know a woman loves you when she wakes up with you on her mind. And church started early. That old lady loved me from a baby. I loved her too.
I did whatever she said to do, without ever a sass word. We sat in the same spot every Sunday, our meeting spot for worship and catching up on each other.
I’ll look out for her boy like I said I would.
Because she died yesterday. The news spread quickly around town. Everybody knew her. Tommorrow’s Sunday.
I’ll go to church and sit in our same spot. They say you never know what you got till it’s gone, but I knew what I had. Yes sir, I knew.
I had A…um…let me see, how can I say it? You know you read up top, That real love’s gone.

For Barbara.