Goodnight Bluebird

Her multiple gold bracelets jangled like chimes as she shook the baby powder down my yellow, chiffon dress. “It’s gonna be hot today.  And you know Pastor Moore likes to put on an extra show when he’s got a big audience.  Don’t want you breaking out.  You yallaw girls break out so easy.”

She smelled like Tabu perfume and Afro-sheen grease.  She hadn’t taken the pink rollers out of her hair yet.  She’d do that right before she put on her lipstick in the bathroom with the pink-flower wallpaper.

“Boy, go have yo granddaddy do somethin wit dat tie,” she ordered my cousin, Frankie, while motioning her hand toward the door.

“Lilllllll-leeeeeeeeeeee,” she bellowed.  “Ya’ll ready.  We gots to be going.  You know how dey be talkin bout folks who is late.”

Getting us all dressed and out of Grandma’s house took detailed management.  There were 5 kids, 13 grandkids and her and…

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