Potato Salad
Spirited
BeBe
was indeed a spirited woman
Gorgeous,
witty, and down-right smart
and
never let you leave hungry
Never,
ever would you leave hungry
BeBe
enjoyed the simple things in life
Like
humming quiet tunes
While
she worked in her yard
Or
her kitchen
Or
her home
If
you close your eyes
And
quiet your mind
You
can still hear that humming
That
soft humming sound
And
you will always know
That
all is well
Sticks
BeBe
loved to pick up sticks
Lots
and lots of sticks
Stacked
in piles
Neatly
stacked . . . sometimes wrapped
In
piles
Pine
cones
Georgia’s
finest pine cones
Were
especially important to BeBe
And
those too, always gathered
For
safe keeping
And
just because
Or
sweep the patios
The
porches
The
front walks
The
kitchen floors
BeBe’s
hands, unceasing
Picking
up things
Sweeping
things
Making
things
She
was a master at sewing
And
she taught her children these skills
And
her grandchildren learned as well
How
to hum
How
to work hard
How
to sew
If
you close your eyes
You
can hear the sounds of the broom
Swish
Swish Swish
And
the humming
The
sweet humming
of
her favorite tunes
Hush
my little child
Did
the sweeping stop?
BeBe
now dances
With
that same broom
Under
a midnight moon
To
the humming sound
of
her favorite tunes
Gardening
Growing
things
Tomatoes
Okra,
Corn, Onions
Butter
beans, green beans, pole beans
Squash
Cucumbers
And
much more
Harvested
Shucked
Snapped
Peeled
Shelled
Canned
These
were all things
We
too learned to do
Cooking
Oh
. . . could BeBe cook
Let’s
just take one dish
And
break it down now
Potato
Salad
Boil
the potatoes
Eggs
or not
Celery
or not
Hellmann’s
Mustard or not
Kraft
Mayonnaise or not
Vidalia
Onions or not
Sweet
Pickles or not
That’s
right
Boil
the potatoes
A
little butter
salt
& pepper
Some
like a little mayo
Some
like a little mustard
Some
like eggs
Some
do not
So
BeBe would make
Potato
Salad
About
five different ways
Because
she wanted everyone to enjoy
And
never leave hungry
Puzzles
Gigsaw
puzzles
She
loved puzzles
And
in the end
Is
it NOT all just one
big
gigantic puzzle?
And
we just do the best we can
To
hum
To
pick up sticks
To
sweep
To
grow things
To
make things
And
when that final piece
Is
finally put in place
And
our time on this earth
is
done
There
is a picture
of
BeBe’s hands
From
a wedding that took place
Not
long ago
A picture
that says it
all
