Her Rosary Beads

I remember the click click jangle jangle of her rummage . Oh what a beautiful mess it was as she plucked out a red rosary for me hold. "Here this one is for you " she said as we settled in to begin our prayers to Mary. In that little makeshift room she called a chapel we prayed by early morning, making Saturdays blessed with the warm glow of prayer. Back then she didn't have so much gray in her hair and her body wasn't ravaged by time. She was strong, vibrant, a challenger of life itself. Straight as an arrow she never fudged it up for me, she told it like it was. . That little chapel held secrets only God could ever speak of. Truth be told, I miss that little chapel. I miss my mom. I long for another day with her and the jangled up mess of rosaries that said, we got Faith. Most of all I miss that neutral scent that said, "I'm always here. " Endearing words were not needed back then, I knew I was loved. Today her absence shouts louder then her presence ever did. I look out a window and remember my every day life with her. My how the years have flown. I recall that precious mother that was once here, and I smile.