Cherish the Memories

Cherish the memories.”

Ms.Rossie shuffles across the tile floor, still dressed in her nightgown. The aroma of an apple blossoms air freshener lingers throughout the kitchen. Simultaneously, the rays from the late morning sun spread into the corners, illuminating her table. Ms. Rossie takes a dishcloth and cleans up the crumbs left from her breakfast.

Ms. Rossies’ nimble fingers trace the rims of her fine bone china, a gift from Emmitt.  ‘Perfect,’ as she sets the table for their romantic dinner tonight. ‘Oh, I’ve almost forgotten,’ reaching up in the cupboard for two wine glasses.

“There, everything is ready,” ’ Ms. Rossie said, ambling back to the bedroom, choosing a pair of modest slacks and flower blouse, giving a quick nudge to her glasses, glancing at her reflection in the mirror. A faint smile remembering one of Emmitt's sayings ‘Cherish every day’ you never know what tomorrow may bring.’   ‘Tomorrow,’ Ms. Rossie sighs, ‘if only’ she prays, looking back to those days when they were so young, and the world held so much promise.  Now time is fleeting with the years that she has left, ‘One never knows,’ fussing with a loose strand of silver hair, brushing it aside.

“Mom, you home?” Samatha, her daughter’s voice echo’s from the living room.

“Yes, child,” Ms. Rossie enters the room, leaning on her walker

“I stopped by to invite you out to dinner tonight.”

“Tonight, child?”

“Um, yes,-“ rolling her eyes.

“Oh, child, I can’t, not tonight.” Ms. Rossie’s raspy voice answers.

“Mom, are you sure?’

“Yes, child.”

Samatha hugs her mom with a promise of getting together for dinner another time.  As the front door closes, the clock chimes noon, reminding how quickly time slips away before a person realizes it. And for Ms. Rossie, time is of the essence as she plans this evening's meal, ‘It has to be special,’ she muses quietly to herself, ambling back into the kitchen. 

“After all, this day only comes once a year,” she said partially to herself and these four walls. She begins to hum the song softly, ‘You are my sunshine,’ a favorite of Emmitt's. A tear glistens on her cheek, recalling a faded memory. One from the past that Ms. Rossie hadn’t thought about, a dark time when she had a miscarriage. And how Emmitt sang to her as they mourned over the loss of their child. ‘Oh, Emmitt,’ she sighs

“Ma’ what are you doing?” E.J., her son, said, leaning against the kitchen doorway.

“What, E.J.,” Ms. Rossie asks, with her back partially towards him, slowly turning around.

“Hey, let me help you.” Reaching up in the cupboard for a jar of tomato sauce.

“Why, thank you,”

“Yeah, sure, no problem.,” he said, “ Hey, why don’t we grab a bit to eat?”

“Sorry, but I can’t.”

“You sure?’ E.J. asks with a furrowed brow

“Yes,” feeling the touch of her warm hand on his reminded him of when he was a small child. And how her touch brought comfort to him whenever he was afraid. Now, it’s his chance to offer his mom comfort as she has given him and as they said good-bye with a promise of grabbing a bit to eat at a later time.

“Now where was I?’ she muse, “Oh, yeah,” continuing to get things ready for her ‘famous lasagna.’, one of their favorite dishes, she looks forward to this evening with anticipation. As she finishes up with the last-minute details, Ms. Rossie strolls into the living room straight to her recliner nestle in the corner next to the picture window. Leaves dot the trees with lush shades of green, birds flying from one branch to another, calling out to each other as they spread their wings. Spring has arrived with all of its glory, chasing away the icy fingers of winter.

Her eyes flutter shut as cobwebs of distant memories dance in her mind, crowding for attention. One by one, they came, like waves lapping upon the shore. Drawing Ms. Rossie to join in the dance, swirling her around, stopping at the time she first met Emmitt. A sigh, as she remembers that day, it was September, the air was warm and gentle, Ms. Rossie breaths in, ‘ah, yes .’ she whispers.’ On the first day of school, teaching the third-grade, a bird flew in a window. ‘a tiny chuckle escapes her lips’ That’s when Emmitt came into the room and saves the day by gently catching the bird and releasing it back outside. 

‘Oh, Emmitt,’ her words uttered in the silence, a warm touch caresses

“Mama, you okay?”

“Child, when did you get here?’

“A few minutes ago,” Lucy said, “Are you okay?’

‘Yes, child, I was just checking my eyelids for leaks,” she answers, as they laugh.

“Um, I came by to see if you.----

“Want to go out to dinner?” with a slight tilt of her head, she smiles.

“Well, I would like to invite you over to my place tonight for a home-cooked meal.”

“Oh, child,” Ms. Rossie sighs, “Some other time, perhaps, but not tonight.”

“Mama”—

“I’m sure, Lucy, besides, I had already been asked that same question twice today.”

“Well,” Lucy continued, “If you’re sure.”

“Yes”

Lucy takes a deep breath, “Um. if you need anything, all you need to do is call me.”

“Thank you, my dear.”

 They embrace, promising to get together for dinner later in the week. As the clock chimes four o’clock, ‘best to keep moving,’ Ms. Rossie said, as she strolls out to the kitchen, long shadows stretching across the floor, ‘It’s almost time.’ licking her bottom lip, reaching for a pan when she spied a note on the counter.

       ‘Dear Mama, I know how special tonight is, so I went ahead and made dinner for the two of you.  I’ll call you tomorrow.’

Love Lucy.

“Oh, Lucy,” her mouth waters from the aroma of lasagna as she peeks inside the oven, checks the timer on the stove. 'It's almost ready,’ as she walks to the table, the grape juice sparkle in the light. ‘Oh, Emmitt’ she said admiring their wedding picture. Tracing her slender fingers around Emmitt’s face, tears kiss her cheek, and for a moment, she feels his hand on hers as he whispers, “I know.”