Friday, March 1, 2013

Day 1: Your Earliest Memory (30DaysofDays)

#1- a day containing your earliest memory

My clearest memory that comes to me
Occurred at the ripe ol’ age of three…

I guess he couldn't afford suitcases.  Maybe all of the money was invested towards this trip.  They didn't even seem like Hefty bags, just black dollar store imitations of strength.

The small town of Summit, Mississippi, definitely isn't the pinnacle for excitement.  It just sits there, appearing to be normal while swarming with oceans of secrets.  

Some people get too big for a small town, and they want to explore, for fear of getting stuck.

Perhaps that was what my mom’s fear was.  I think it was more of going the extreme because she didn't get her way.  She wanted to get married in a huge way—to the guy who couldn't afford suitcases, whose skin tone was almost as dark as the bags.

However, my grandparents never claimed to be made of money.  The grandeur in my mom’s head didn't match reality.  She found out when my grandparents refused to sponsor a big wedding by any means necessary.  By any means meant taking out a loan of some sort.

Yelling, shouting, and pleading didn't budge my grandparents’ resolve.  She ultimately decided she was just going to follow her sister, Cat, out to California.  My mom already had two children (Ranautta and myself) and wasn't even twenty.

I pressed my tiny fingers against the screen door.  I couldn't quite hear what was said but voices were raised.  My mom, Grandma, and Grandpa were outside.  My mom was trying to hand my sister over to my Grandma.  My Grandma shook her head, said a few more words.

My mom seemed agitated and outraged.  Things didn't seem to be going her way.  She blurted out something else I couldn't understand, and I saw a finger point at me.

But what my Grandpa said after that was very clear.  He had stayed silent for the most part when my mom and Grandma were yelling. 

“Go ‘head, Faye!  Go ‘head and take her!  Do what you wanna do, but I’m tired of hearing about this!”

He walked past them.  I backed away from the screen door as he opened it.  I followed him to see exactly where he was going.  I heard the screen door open, and the rustling and thumping of items soon ensued.  I didn't know what they were; my mind was still on Grandpa.  Then, the screen door slammed again.

A few minutes later, I made my way back to the screen door.  I noticed things were very quiet.  I opened the door, went down the step, and to the center of the carport. 

The car that was outside was gone.  The one that had Aunt Cat and the guy my mom was engaged to.  I didn't see my sister or my mom, either.  Grandma was still standing in the same spot; she hadn't budged.  I walked and stood next to her and stared in the same direction.  The direction of the empty road.

Even after my grandma decided to go back in the house, I stood there.  I knew something had changed.  My mom had gone off for long periods of time before, spending time with her friends, but this time seemed different.

Things would never be the same.

I don’t remember the date.  I only remember the moment.  That first clear memory—the day that mom left me.

Day 1, that's a wrap...peace.


Thee_Kween said...

You made me cry...

The God'ess said...

Your grandparents raised a beautiful spirit in spite of the hurt that you were dealt.

As the Budda Flows said...

my hands hovered over this keyboard and i couldnt type cause my face is wet. God bless your grandparents Monica and you my friend are a beautiful talented loving spirit. ((hugs))

Divaprocessor said...

Wow to remember this at such a young age..I applaud your strength

ABoyd378 said...


And You are here before us, a Strong Young Woman.... :-)

No Labels said...

hands Kali a tissue ((hugs))

Thank you so much for that, Maria. It means a lot to me.

gives another tissue to, too, are a very talented spirit. Thank you so much for reading!

Thanks for stopping by, Diva and ABoyd--it really means a lot!

Reggie said...


That's quite a moment in time to share. Nice heartfelt post.

No Labels said...

Thanks, Reggie!