Confessions by Sasha Campbell Page A

Touching her was comforting. The way she always felt to me.
    Aunt Charlotte rose. “Since you’re here, we’re going down to the cafeteria.”
    I simply nodded. They left and I was glad to have some time alone with Big Mama. I reached up and brushed her silver hair away from her face. It was long, very fine and hanging loose on her pillow. The result of a mixed heritage. Big Mama would have a fit if she saw her hair all over her head. She was one of those who believed in always looking her best. I guess I got that from her. Although when I first decided to grow my locks, she couldn’t understand why I insisted on growing that nappy stuff on my head.
    â€œWell, if it isn’t my little chickadee.”
    I smiled down into Big Mama’s gentle brown eyes and fought back the tears. I didn’t want her to see me crying. “You know good and well nothing was stopping me from coming down here to see you. I even brought you a surprise.” I reached inside my purse and pulled out a Granny Smith apple.
    Her eyes sparkled. “I ever tell you that’s my favorite apple?”
    I nodded. “Yes, you’ve told me.” But I never grew tired of hearing the story.
    â€œI remember I used to clean this old white woman’s house. She had one of those big fancy houses on the north side with a pretty white picket fence. She loved having me work for her better than all her other maids. Ms. Ellie used to call me that pretty colored girl.” She paused for a moment, lost in her thoughts. “Anyway, I was getting ready to head home one evening and I was hungry. She had a beautiful fruit bowl of apples. I asked her if I could have one of her Granny Smith apples and I would bring one in the morning to replace it. Ms. Ellie told me no…I couldn’t have a Granny Smith…I could have a Jonathan apple. Humph! They all had bruises on them, and I don’t care for those apples…never have. I took one look at Ms. Ellie, then walked over to the bowl, took me a Granny Smith and bit into it.” Big Mama chuckled. “I said good night and left the house.” She paused again and frowned at the IV in her arm. I moved around to her right and adjusted the surgical tape as she continued. “The next morning I came back, and when she opened the door, I handed her the prettiest Granny Smith apple I could find, and said, ‘I told you I’d bring you another apple.’ Ms. Ellie started laughing and said, ‘Mildred, you so funny.’”
    I laughed and stared down at my grandmother’s smiling face. That’s just the way she’d always been—a woman with a mind of her own. She didn’t let anyone stand in her way. This was the woman who I could always turn to when I couldn’t talk to my mother. Big Mama never judged. She simply listened, then gave her opinion whether you liked it or not. She always believed in allowing her children to live their lives, because to her the biggest lesson was finding out for yourself.
    â€œYou think when I get home I can get you to bake me one of those coconut cakes?” she asked. Big Mama was lying there, breathing heavily. I tried not to think about the fluid surrounding her heart. Talking was starting to be too much for her.
    I squeezed her hand. “Sure, Big Mama. Whatever you want.”
    She covered my hand with hers and closed her eyes. For the longest time, I sat there listening to her breath. Loving the way she felt. Enjoying the way she smelled.
    â€œYou know I’m not going to be here forever,” she finally said, breaking into the silence.
    I had to swallow to remove the sob that had filled my throat. “I know, but I’m not ready for you to leave.”
    â€œHmmm…that’s too bad ’cause I’m ready to go…and be with my Lord. You know I gave my life to Jesus Christ when I was a little girl? I’ve been preparing my whole life to meet him.”
    â€œI know,