Breathless

My mother’s grandmother lived an easy bike ride downhill. Great grandma usually braided her curly hair into multiple, tiny tight braids that made her scalp ache, turning her curls to steel wool. But there was always sugar and butter on white bread after school.
When my mother was seven, Grandma announced a trip downtown. As they headed toward the bus stop, little Mary Ann ran to keep up with Grandma’s long strides. Was she breathless from the walk? Or was it the breath-taking Technicolor spectacle in the palatial theater?
Now, my mother has seen “Gone With The Wind” many times. We’ve often watched it together. What does it matter that the stars we see are already dead? They come to life on the screen. Together, in memories, we revisit my great grandmother. We may skip the braids but enjoy the memory of sugar sandwiches.

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This fictionalized version of my mother’s childhood was inspired by dVerse. Mom is shown here in her graduation photo.