May Contest

Death Is Better

Grandma of three children and two husbands; one deceased.
Grandma of six grandchildren.
Grandma’s mouth was sharper than her eyesight like when she told Mama she would loose the baby and two weeks later, blood dribbled down Mama’s legs.
Grandma’s hands were faster than lightening like when she smacked my buttocks from taking meat from the pot.
Grandma was quiet today, sleeping on her bamboo bed like she does every afternoon.
I prodded her with my finger which was very courageous, but Grandma never stirred.
I ran to Mama crying, she was waiting, with open arms.
Sometimes death is better.

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