...continuing Rosa... [see post on August 20th]
It's those early memories I cling to today as the older one shrinks in her bed. Her once generous body now hollowed and shallow.
I remember the first time she showed me the book. The one passed down from so many ancestors. Its pages yellowing and binding frayed. My shaky fingers had hovered over the print as my eyes soaked in the unfamiliar language.
She'd whispered its story to me as her mom had to her so many years before. My eyes had welled. It was that day I knew I finally belonged. I had promised then to look after the sick as she had done.
And now I look after her.
Creative expressions from our bi-monthly Writing Prompt Circle: Kaitlyn, Emily and Sonja.
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