The Millennium Issue:
Future
Jo Nelson
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Not Ever
"That's not MY mama." My niece's small voice echoed in the too sticky still. Flowers wafted oversweet against our nostrils. Soft music tried to soothe but it was all wrong. Corrine had hated organ music.
"My mama would never sleep in her best dress," the voice continued, growing a little strength from my lack of response. "She always told me she wouldn't be caught dead with red lips. That CAN'T be my mama." She kept repeating it like a mantra; as though she could make it so, what she was fighting not to see.
So sunken was I in my own unreasoning grief, I tried to hold her back from death with a hand too cold to warm even a small chamber of her heart. In, out; in, out. I breathed, feeling the terrible dread of that place where life was drained out like so much blood. So much life cut short. So much marbled death.
"When's my real mama coming?" She batted at me, trying to break through this nightmare she'd awakened when she overheard her grandma discuss the vigil.
"She's not, sweetheart."
"Not EVER?" Her eyes swallowed my bleeding heart. The small hand touched feather-like Corrine's unyielding face, reached for the mole beside her ear.
She didn't cry. Ever.
~Jo Nelson
Jo taught writing at the college level, conducted workshops, maintained a vigorous poetry reading schedule, and was published in hundreds of journals. She also wrote for children and young adults. Jo passed away suddenly in January. Please see our online tribute to this dynamic woman at Remembering Jo.
© 2000 by Jo Nelson. All Rights Reserved.
© 2000-2002 by Cayuse Press. All Rights Reserved.
This page updated April 23, 2002.