My Mother

I see myself huddled on my father's lap early one morning, surrounded by many people. All were sitting on stiff, tall chairs in my grandparent's 'good' living room, the one that was only used on very special occasions.

This must have been one of those particular times.
Everybody was dabbing at their eyes... they were crying, and they were wearing their best outfits, their Sunday going-to-church clothes.

I didn't know that big people cried.

As I wiped away the tears from my father's face I wondered why they all looked so sad and why nobody talked or smiled.

I didn't understand.

I was frightened because they all acted like strangers, even though they were really my aunts and uncles... and so I cried, too.

I remember, this had been the day when my mother wasn't there anymore.

They said she had gone to heaven.

I had reached my fourth year when this happened.

I didn't know the meaning of death.