When I was little, my grandmother had a maid.
She talked slowly and deliberately.
She moved the same way, come to think of it.
But she was kind and genuine.
I saw her today for the first time in years.
It took her a moment to figure out who I was.
I’m sure I look a lot different.
I was probably still in middle school last time I saw her.
But she looked the same.
She walked out to the van to see my children.
Compared them to me and my brother.
Remembered our names.
Remembered where I’d been the past ten years.
She’d kept up with me while I was gone.
And as she was getting ready to leave,
She hugged me.
And she smelled like home.
(Weird, I know…)
(But so good at the same time.)
And I was happy to see her again.
I was glad she hugged me.
She reminded me of childhood.
Of my Mama Jo.
Of comfort and love.
And a clean house.
Speaking of which…I’ve got some cleaning to do today.