I Remember

One summer day in the early months after my mother died, my brother and I drove to a barrier island in the Gulf of Mexico for sibling bonding in the form of a picnic. I had packed a ragged quilt as a picnic blanket. The quilt must have been made before 1940, making it fifty years old even then. It would be sixty years old now if I could find it again among my belongings. The quilt was a homespun treasure made by our grandmother, my mother's mother.

I drove to his apartment to pick him up. He came around the corner of the building with his usual cup of coffee in hand. It was a blissful moment for me to see him looking so healthy. Bad health had dogged him for many years and he was now in fifties.

I drove into the late morning sun, across the Mobile Bay Parkway, all the while Gerald was looking out the side windows at the blue and white colors of the Bay. It was a beautiful day and one of my best memories. We drove to Cadillac Square, a public picnicking area on the island of mostly private property. A great oak laden with spanish moss shaded the roadside park and the water bordered the opposite side .

We spread our food on the concrete picnic table. The memory fades from there. I think it was our first time together since our mother had died. We were learning to enjoy ourselves again even through our grief.