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July 11, 2008
Cis Maude's Hair
Or was it Cis Mildred’s?
My memory is fuzzy
about these two sisters,
my Great Aunts
who lived so far away.
My mother’s place of birth
till she turned sweet 17
during war times
when she meet and married
a young soldier -
my father Kenneth,
a Yankee.
Summers in the 1950’s,
we visited the distant family
in foreign southern breezes
carrying the aromas through the windows
of the un-air-conditioned car,
wafting scents of peanuts and peach,
our hair blowing in every direction
trying to stay cool.
Grandma’s house,
smelling like fresh biscuits,
magnolias floating through the screens,
floor fans running in quiet high speed
functioning as a perfect seat to cool small legs,
only to be scolded to get off... now!
Uncles and Aunts,
complete strangers -
older boy cousins became quick playmates
getting us to do things to them
in a makeshift tent
or the detached garage out back -
unspeakable things
under the guise of playing doctor.
A short car trip
to visit a Cis,
Maude or Mildred
estranged from each other,
a mysterious wall between,
the same rigid one my grandmother built -
jealousies, resentments, grudges,
a painful cycle of dysfunction
and dark secrets.
Large green leaves
stretched across the Florida room’s wallpaper,
rattan furniture and soothing iced drinks,
Cis Maude sat with her long white hair
placed neatly in a small bun
on the back of her tilted head,
her strong Virginia accent humming in our ears
and we wanted to comb her hair.
Silver and white, all down her curved back,
falling spindly
as we made braids with our tiny fingers
parting separations, odd spiral shapes and loose strands-
a memory that evokes all these things
from some other life time,
my mother’s family
and Cis Maude’s hair.
Posted by kay at July 11, 2008 03:00 PM