The wide mouthed laughter, head thrown back and gold teeth flashing, a hand raised and half thrown in no direction saying, “Go on, Girl” with the proper inflection, ‘cause it went together ..……..friends.
Standing heavy hipped at the stove in summer, humming some spiritual she fancied, sweat-towel thrown across her shoulder, crusty feet sluffed into broke backed shoes …… they always hurt anyway.
White starched dresses packed with matronly weightiness side by side on the front row, puncuating the sermon of the shoutin’, sweatin’ Preacher (hankershief in hand) with “ Amens” Mothers of the church that held your faith, culture ………your heritage.
Wide fancy hats poised carefully on greased, pressed hair, heads rockin’, knit dresses clinging a bit too closey to ripe curves, oiled and worn-worked hands pumping fans in rythm............Sunday morning.
Bulging bosoms you were hugged against with strong fat arms so they could tell you they’d known you since snotty noses and diapers, discipline from anybody, ‘cause you belonged to everybody…….caring village.
Hands that never left you where you’d fallen and faith in Lord Jesus enough to cleave the very earth ..…..strength.
Disappearing Vaseline faces of the past, replaced with modern lady like laughter, smooth lotioned hands, swinging hair, chosen labels, luxury cars, bland and sterile, the fading warmth, half remembered memories of ole Black women,.................................. God bless 'em.
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