This literal thumbnail picture, face up in this little garbage pail, is of someone unknown to me. I’ve stared at her for days, wondering who she is. Mama’s bible bookshelf had to be repurposed. I counted twenty-three bibles and page-checked them all for secrets and hidden notes and bookmarks, and things. Many found. This one most profound. She haunts me. But why? And who is she?
I’ve tossed it several times, resisting the temptation to wonder more just how did Mama know her? There is background noise attached to this tiny pix. I hear it but can’t discern it. She is not a random.. meaning, she’s not a photo Mama found in the parking lot at Eckerds just to bookmark the pages of her bible. Perhaps she is someone Mama prayed for. She is without doubt somebody Mama cared for. But who? The faded writing in blue ink on the back, doesn’t help. A lone tiny photo of an unknown woman I have questions for. Not because she is white. And growing up, I never saw my grandmother with a white person, in person.
I’m feeling some ethical anxiety here, about sustainability. Abhorrent! That I contemplate keeping this when there’s already more meaningful keeper things gone with the wind of the Goodwill truck. Jackie! Get rid of it! I have seriously gently placed this picture face up in my personal garbage pail again and again for days. Denying myself the role as keeper of every little thing Mama kept.
Then, I finally took photos of the photo, and ended this obsession! Pouring my garbage pail content in a bag headed for the landfill..
But then I read Mimi’s “Little things” post.
Umkaaay.. dragging my feet.
There are no little things.
Anyone can teach you about love. I can make you good at it.
|Photos & prose by Jackie D. Rockwell |All Rights Reserved ©2008-2020|