Where my Momma Walked

Corner of Grace and Janssen

5 July 2009

Here I sat, on the sun warmed curb at the corner of Grace and Janssen—the street sign said so. Behind me, just like my mom said, there was an elementary school. I gazed in front of me at the house on the Southwest corner. It had obviously been rebuilt recently, changed since the days when my mom lived here. A pretty, purple and grey brick, yuppy kind of house stood behind a classy iron fence. I tried to picture what I guessed had been a ramshackle student dwelling. I pictured my mom, looking out of her window, and writing a poem about the elementary school. These days, she only remembered one line, something about Crossing Grace Street. I thought about how we’d have been friends, I’d have read that poem, hung out on shady steps with her, talking and having tea like we do now. I got up, took a few photos, left a message on my mom’s phone and went to explore the cemetery where she used to walk—that, I was certain, wouldn’t be gone.