Southern Reflections with a little help from my friends
by
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She never knew she wasn't supposed to have
a young Negro girl her age as a best friend.
<^>
They both were poor and picked cotton.
They both worked cookin and lookin
after their younger brothers and sisters.
<^>
They made their own dolls out of corn shucks,
with cob faces painted with charcoal for eyes
and berry stain for mouths.
And the dolls were neither black nor white
but, simply corn color.
<^>
Mom's doll was named Gladys
after a beautiful Aunt.
Manzie's was called Willa.
She said someone told her a story once
about a princess named Willamena,
whose Daddy called her Willa.
<^>
And innocence was the children's game.
Manzie married and called the delta home.
Momma married and moved to the city, 200 miles away.
Both had babies, momma just one.
Manzie, well, more than one.
<^>
The word came down that Momma was sick.
Manzie sent her younger sister to look after her
and care for the husband and child.
Her name was Georgia.
She of the swishy hips and ample bosom.
<^>
She hugged me so tight I could hardly breathe.
Even now I am comforted
By remembering her cooing to me,
"I luvs ya, and when I luvs ya, I luvs ya alllll over."
<^>
When Momma recovered you returned home.
I was lost without you
to sing to me and threaten
to sweep me out the door,
when I got in the way of your broom.
<^>
I remember how scared you were of Gypsies.
How tight you held me,
afraid they would snatch me away
And carry me off because I
Loved their music and dancing.
So, you made up dances of your own
and sang beautiful songs to entertain me.
<^>
I loved you Georgia.
You helped form me.
You gave me all the good stuff inside you.
And you helped my Momma get well.
I wish you knew, that she's 90 years old.
I wish I knew, what happened to you.
I wish I could tell you
how important you were to me.
all that innocence went.
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Book Details
About the Book
About The Book Life in all its dimensions is a story to be told and busyness detracts from the telling. There is an ever-growing movement of journaling, scrapbooking and blogging, reminiscent of children sitting at the knee of elders to hear repeated, the story of their preceding generations. It is pictures crudely rendered on cave walls. In my genealogy research I was ecstatic to find a story to go with the facts of an ancestors life, putting flesh on those spare bones. It’s all a part of extending our lives and influence into future generations. It’s the pain that was segregation. It’s support and guidance of loving parents. It’s loved ones that went wrong. It’s the toll of wars. It’s the assassination of a President. It’s dreams we’ve had and pets we’ve loved and feelings. How we felt about everything that transpired in our lives. It's about sharing our lives with everyone we've met along the way. If you’re looking for writing like Dan Brown, James Patterson or Barbara Kingsolver you will be disappointed. This is a work of Prose, Poetry and Essay. If you seek a touch of deceased humorist and journalist Erma Bombeck, combined with a touch of the earthiness of Pulitzer Prize winning journalist and author, Rick Bragg, you're sure to enjoy the book. Read Southern Reflections for pleasure and a laugh or two.
About the Author
About The Author Madalyn is a 65-year-old retiree, wife of a practicing Pediatrician, mother and grandmother. She started reading and writing at 5 and says, “It’s amazing what you can do growing up without television.” She resides in Memphis, TN. with husband Jim and shares his love of travel. She was born a privileged, underprivileged child of a blind father and family with meager monetary support and over abundant resources. Can’t was a forbidden word in her home. A happy, enthusiastic, talented musician father was a people magnet and made life fun. Her mother kept them clean, fed and all together, allowing for the fun. She had parents who adored each other and shared that adoration with the children. Her husband, as she describes him, is a man of great humor and compassion who has allowed her the freedom to try her wings at anything she fancied. She raised a large active family in the city of her birth. The place where in the 40s and 50s, they went to the same schools, churches and shopped at the same 5 and 10 cent stores. She has faced the familial breast cancer of the maternal side of her family and remains in awe of her mothers’ 90 year life span while losing her sister at 45. Grandchildren energize her. Always adventurous, she spent the summer of 1994 living in a tent she called her “Canvas Chateau” in the mountains of New Mexico leading groups hiking up into the high ranges. No longer able to backpack and climb, she has returned to writing and the stage, acting and working behind the scenes of community theatres and volunteers for numerous organizations from the arts to inner city families.