#memama

[fianaturie]

Angel Free II

I love  my life, it is important to meMama never believed a word that came out of my mouthHe cares for himself, for his wants, for his needsIt hurtThe worst pain I ever felt in my lifeI lied to live; they would never believe me anywayMama sent me away so my body will be at peace for a whileThey seen the healed scars on my skinThey asked if I wanted to go backI have a choice“No”He will kill me…

[latestupdates2022]

Time Traveler Lyrics by Wizard Chan

Time Traveler Lyrics by Wizard Chan Wizard Chan Lyrics Time Traveler, Wizard Chan‘s latest song, is a lyrical masterpiece that captivates listeners with its enchanting words, read the song’s captivating lyrics below. Time Traveler Cover Art Wizard Chan – Time Traveler Lyrics HmmmmAhhhEhh, ehhOh yeahOh yeah Somebody pray for meMy dad looking old to meMama not as young you seeLife looking…

[wtd28]

a thought occurred to me the other day. i would like to recount it to maintain the memory.

when my grandmother passed at the stunning age of 95, it both did and did not catch me by surprise. my dad, her son and youngest, and my mom, being the POAs and the only ones to give a shit outside of her church group and one of my aunts - my dad's sister - for several years prior, saw it coming. at 5:14am on a thursday my dad called me, and being that i am an insomniac, i answered. he said, "i guess you know why i'm calling."

"yeah. what's the next step?"

"we will let you know later today."

i went to work and did my thing. i didn't feel much outside of a vague sense of sorrow that she passed, but she had been in bad shape anyway so it was to be expected. all my coworkers were very kind and offered sympathy, which i felt i did not deserve because i felt no grief, just a sense of duty. they all asked if i needed to leave early, to which i declined and said there was no need because the overlap of my days off worked out just fine. later that day, i bought a handle of gin for when i was in the hotel room and drove the four hours there. memama, which is how we called her, desired a funeral where we all wore a champagne pink, rosé wine, blush colored piece at the event because it was her favorite color. the last time i saw her at the old folks' home she was still wearing pink. i own exactly one thing in pink so i wore it and my parents definitely appreciated it. we ordered pizza the night before.

day of. good aunt and uncle and my family hung out in memama's house. it was built by hand by my granddad in the early 60s. it still has that style to this day. an electric piano with nicotine yellow stained keys and a dusty 8-track stereo sat adjacent to a low television with carpeting on the speakers. as a kid, i would watch tv on it and watch the static lift the hair on my arms whenever i would touch the screen. if it worked and didn't weigh a metric ton i would have asked to keep it. instead, i got her collection of 8-tracks and cassettes.

the funeral was held in the same church where my parents got married over 30 years ago. from her house, it is down a steep hill, up another steep hill, toward the end of the address where a piss yellow painted brick mechanic / oil shop sits on the right and a log and tarp store of secondhand items lies to the left. go straight on past shoebox stucco houses older than me and no larger than an apartment living room bracket the road on both sides until you reach the church. it's typical baptist fare - brick build, rectangular with a small outcropping and a basketball court that my dad went and played on to mitigate his horrible cloying grief after his own dad died not a month before he and my mom got married, and that's where my memama had her final service in this life.

it is cosmically funny that the only people to sob and sniffle were the ones who barely gave a shit while she was alive, if not made her life harder. she was very kind and naive, and people around her took advantage of that like razor-teethed river fish against the pond cleaner.

it was closed casket, thank goodness. the spray of flowers were majority sent by my dad's work associates. there were at least twelve, and ten, maybe eleven, were sent by them, all in various shades of pink, purple, and yellow, with fresh and lively green stems and leaves. they stood in stark contrast to the almost burnt colored oak of all the bland furnishings and pews.

i have a shit extended family, but i will give one of my stupid cousins credit. one of my aunts, for some ungodly reason, lifted the casket open to peer at her mother in death, probably for sympathy points. she is... a character. well, she did that and turned to my cousin, her daughter, and said, "she looks so peaceful now," and my cousin guffawed and went, "mom, she looks like a corpse." which was true. i think her final weight at the end was in the eighty pound range. what fucking else is a wasted away elderly dead woman supposed to look like?

my dad and i did not cry, my sister and mother got sniffles and wept. people who did not matter or have any say about anything or have any attachment to us were sobbing like they had any leverage for anything. fuck em. holed up in the rusting sky blue trailer on the hill where i remember playing with a raccoon named rusty when i was a kid. they mean jack shit to me.

pre-service, i took a bible and read translation notes. the cousin who made a comment on my grandma's corpse nudged me and said it looked like i was studying. in a way, i was. i was studiously avoiding eye contact by skimming the segments in the old testament. jeremiah. matthew. segments of kindness toward your fellow man, followed up in quick succession by how your fellow man will be put upon the holy block and judged. i hate all religion, but i am simultaneously soothed by it because i know even back when people walked barefoot in the deserts and mountains, kindness still existed.

noon: service starts. my mom scolds me with her teeth showing to put the bible away, and that i can't draw during service. i wasn't planning on drawing, but because i had a pen in hand, that is the assumption. whatever, what fucking ever.

for two hours the service proceeds. the pastor has to be younger than i am. he recounts visiting my grandma during her final week, where she says for him to read a bible verse about kindness towards one another, about care and love, and being surrounded by people. my dad helped facilitate this. he knows the pastor well. people are crying around me. i stare at my left foot, crossed over the ankle with the right, clad in old tights, one flat shoe dangling. i don't cry.

the piano player fucking sucks, or maybe the piano itself sucks, because i hate the music. electric organ bullshit. i don't cry for the entire service. people send me condolences and ask for hugs. i don't know you fucking people, but i hug them and thank them anyway. i'm sweating in this knit pink sweater, black pencil skirt and wool tights. the spray of flowers atop my grandmother's glittering blush pink casket, like it'll explode to life in a shower of sparkles, sits between us all. i hate everyone here, even though i don't know the half of them.

the meeting after is so much more fucking bearable. everyone peeled out as best as they could. it was weird hugging my sobbing extended family members while i basically gave a "yeah yeah" and tried not to shoo them off. do not touch me. the saving grace of it all was hanging out alongside my dad and his friend since elementary school. it is entirely possible to laugh after a funeral. watching my dad and his friend try desperately not to curse inside a church sanctuary as they recounted boyhood stories made me have to choke back laughter behind my plastic cup of water. i really am his kid. nobody else was smiling. but i understand him and his friend. many things are beyond our control. so we must appreciate the experiences we have been given.

we shake hands with the pastor. the service was lovely, it really was, so i thank him with a double-clasped handshake. we pile into the truck, me being the shortest having to jump up and use the side rails.

my sister and i barter with my parents to go to a bar to cap it off. we eat pizza and mozzarella sticks. my dad and i enjoy the ambience of ozzy and metallica. my sister and i sleep in silence and wake up at 6am to go back home. we stop at a bp station for gas and coffee and then by the local liquor store.

she goes home. i go home. life has continued. my dad, upon going down the hill from the cove after the funeral, he commented, "i'm glad i'll never be obligated to go back to this fucking place again."

[mercys-things]

Estoy harta de que sobreexploten la imagen de los gays, la orientación sexual no es un producto para usarse en el mercadeo y tampoco es un indicativo de tu personalidad. Ya es mamon que un buen número de homosexuales quieran gritarlo a todo pulmón, sí, eres gay ¿Y? a nadie le importa, si quieren que la discriminación termine, empiecen por aceptarse ustedes y normalícense, porque si eres gay o no lo eres nos da igual, como nos vale cero que a alguien le guste el pollo y no la carne o que alguien disfruta más la lluvia que el sol.

[chrislopezmx]

Unas fotitos ay humildemente con mi Nokia del Oxxo... #dublin #picoftheday #bookstagram #trinity #europe #memama #disruptive https://www.instagram.com/p/CaX3XG8I9Og/?utm_medium=tumblr

[jaymayokay]

Mary and Memama are “Full of Grace!” (it’s a miracle) * * * * * #jeanschertler #memama #talkingmary #fullofgrace #johnwaters #johnwatersfilm #pecker #supergorgeousness #instagay #helleaux #learningtosee #artnerd #inspirationiseverywhere #instagrammer #videoart #appropriation #artfag #arthag #StayAtHomeModel (at Baltimore, Maryland, USA) https://www.instagram.com/p/CFS3UcmjaO4/?igshid=zjpe3jho9tix

[honestmumblog]

Being a mum can feel lonely at times and meeting other mums to share experiences with, us something Instagram can help with. Head over to @mammabelle18 to join in with Meet A Mummy Sunday linky which I’m co-hosting today. Go chat, connect and follow like-minded mothers. The aim is simple: meet more mums and make friends. It’s already helped hundreds of mums connect. We can't wait to meet you #impartofthegridcrew ♥️ #capturethemoments #existinphotographs #myhappycapture #documentyourday #hurrayforplay #thejuggleisreal #momlifeyo #momlifeisthebest #honestmom #imomsohard #thatmomlife #kidsoutside #playtolearn #playwithyourkids #simplykids #realmotherhood #memama #lifeasamama #motherhoodisdarling #mamatribevibes #raisinglittles #motherhoodco #parentingmemes #tiredmummy #mamaneedswine #motherhoodatitsfinest #motherhoodintheraw #ohheymamas #momssupportingmoms https://www.instagram.com/p/B_t1eWIDopj/?igshid=1j02mmyxcwpdi

[gmanemusic]

Jus thinkin bout u baby... wishin I had one of dem sweet potato pies right about now!! #MeMama 🙏🏾 https://www.instagram.com/p/BwvcysZF7jD/?igshid=147i9gblyd8ym

[sharklilly]

Many of these designs were donated and slightly altered

[blackicedknight]

I love daisies & roses but I also LOVE Buttercups bc that’s what my Memama called me ‘Well Hey There, My Little Buttercup!��� Anyone else who happens to call me Buttercup it fills my heart up ☺️💕💖💕🥰 #lovliest #happydays #mymemama #heavenrememberingher #thisislove #love https://www.instagram.com/p/CS0cxnJLhS9/?utm_medium=tumblr

[libsloves]

To Papa, with Love

My grandfather passed away today. He was 86, but it was still unexpected. I was trying to remember the last time I saw him. . .I’m pretty sure it was last Easter. We’re not a family of showing or processing emotions; we move straight into the doing and the taking care of things, but that discussion is for another day. Right now, I think the main thing I feel is regret. . .regret that I allowed my aversion to talking on the phone to prevent me from reaching out, regret that I didn’t go over to his house more when we were living in Georgia, regret for all the things left unsaid because I always thought “there’d be time.” I, of all people, should know what a farce that idea is, yet I chose to allow myself to believe it because it was easier. So, Papa, here are some things I wish I had told you. . . .it really all goes back to two simple words, thank you. 

Papa, thank you. . .

-for always letting me know you were proud of me--and not in a cliche way, in a genuine, deep-felt way.

-for always kissing me on top of my head, even though I always told you not to because it would make me bald like you.

-for the spending money you gave me every time I was home from college. Mom said you remembered what it was like to be at college with no money, and you always wanted to make sure I didn’t have the same experience.

-for raising my Mom to know people should never be defined or limited by the color of their skin, an impressive feat in the South during the Civil Rights Era.

-for not just being a hunter, but a conservationist as well, taking steps to establish a chapter of Ducks Unlimited in Athens.

-for having a good reputation in Athens for being a kind and generous businessman.

-for making it a priority to come to the hospital when Tegan was born, so you could see her and congratulate me, your only granddaughter.

-for giving some of the biggest and best hugs.

-for calling Mom at least weekly to check on us, to know how we were doing in Texas and what “Miss Tegan, the most beautiful baby you’d ever seen” was up to. 

-for your Christmas tradition of hosting the family breakfast and giving all the grandchildren $25 and all the adults a duck you hand-carved.

-for carving Tegan her own duck, once you saw her carrying one of ours around and petting it. 

I love you, Papa. I’m sorry I didn’t say it enough. I know you probably felt like your grandkids went on with their lives and forgot about you, and I’m sorry that I further solidified that. I’m grateful for the role you played in my life. I’m so thankful for the great memories I have of you and that Tegan got to meet you. I’m so happy you’re with MeMaMa now--I’m guessing you’re pretty happy about that too. I wish I could’ve said “goodbye.” Going back to Athens to visit the family just won’t be the same without you. . .

[burningphotographs]

Happy 94th Birthday, Memama! https://www.instagram.com/p/BxSlL9TJZK5Hx1oGPrf8Muh9pkxHtD4oydi_B80/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=xm2vuma369ji

[ateliermonmon]

Se se se

Feliz Lupercalia

[unatalkarenworld]

Saben que tiene la mejor amiga, cuando ella está dispuesta a ir contigo para cumplir tus mayores idioteces o sueños😍 jaja en fin. TE AMO😎, y quiero que estés conmigo siempre eh hasta hacernos pasitas juntas😈😈😈. #lamejor #teamonigga❤ #blanquita #negra&blanca #muchosañosmas #bestfriend #pasasjuntas #puteandoconclase #siemprejuntas👭 #amigosconbeneficios #jaja ##porquéyosímelomerecía #conamigostodoesmejor #chiapadecorzo #malecon #seteacaboelviaje #memamas #wey #somosinstagramers #vsco #vscocam #vivehoy #sefeliz #nuncatedejesvencer (en Chiapa de Corzo, Chiapas)

[charmingtelfordimagines]

Part 2 - House that built me by miranda Lambert.

It rained most of the first day on your way back to . weird how the weather seemed to react to the way you felt inside. It would feel good to see the spanish crosses and smell the mix of spanish tapas and british pub fair. St. Augustine. Was there anything like her. You drove until you hit salt lake city and decided you’d be better off sleeping and continuing on the next day. You checked into a decent hotel near the interstate. Jax no doubt knew you where gone and if anything he was relived to be spared the trouble of ending it him self. 

Jax pov- Y/N had rarely spoke of home. It had hurt to0 much after her parents were killed in a car wreck at 6 she had been raised by her grandparents who passed away when she was 24. He wracked his brains..and had Juice track her debit cards. takeing a bottle he  told juice to wake him if anything popped up on Y/N. 16 hrs later you knew she was safe and in salt lake city.. East she was heading east. you grabbed a bag. stashed some clothes and road out. not telling a soul lest they try to stop you. 

Y/N POV- Two days later you pulled up to the front of what used to be your grandparents house. 

I know they say you can't go home again I just had to come back one last time Ma'am I know you don't know me from Adam But these handprints on the front steps are mine

Up those stairs in that little back bedroom Is where I did my homework and I learned to play guitar I bet you didn't know under that live oak My favorite dog is buried in the yard

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it This brokenness inside me might start healing Out here it's like I'm someone else I thought that maybe I could find myself

You walked around the house with the owner and pointed out little memories that made you smile. The front steps you sat with you pawpaw and at push pops. the kitchen you learned to make Granny’s upside down apple fritter cake. a thousand happy memories and the ones that crushed your soul. Pawpaw dieing of a heartattack and Granny giving up overnight. She lasted a week with him.

 I could just come in I swear I'll leave Won't take nothing but a memory From the house that built meMama cut out pictures of houses for years From Better Homes and Gardens magazine Plans were drawn and concrete poured Nail by nail and board by board Daddy gave life to mama's dreamI thought if I could touch this place or feel it This brokenness inside me might start healing Out here it's like I'm someone else I thought that maybe I could find myselfIf I could just come in I swear I'll leave Won't take nothing but a memory From the house that built me 

You leave home and you move on and you do the best you can I got lost in this old world and forgot who I am 

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it This brokenness inside me might start healing Out here it's like I'm someone else I thought that maybe I could find myselfIf I could walk around I swear I'll leave Won't take nothing but a memory

The next day you stop for flowers and you go to the Spanish parish and lay flowers at their grave. kneeling you cry,” I wasn’t  done needing you, you know. You two need each other and I get that, but I didn’t want to be alone. That what I’m, all alone in this world and I don’t know what to do.”  “ No your not Y/N. You’ll never be alone.” you turn around and there is the last person you ever expected to see. “ Jax?”