Pieces of a Woman

1

I awake from my sleep to hear the shrill cries of a child. Rolling off the couch, I check the time. 9 am. I groan and make my way to the only room in our apartment where Aaliyah and grandma sleep. First I check on grandma, because im slightly paranoid. Afterwards, I walk over to Aaliyah and lift her off the small twin bed. She cuddles into my neck and I walk across the hall into the kitchen to scrape them up some breakfast. A full head of hair stands straight up on her head and I laugh at the sight. I sit her in the chair and proceed to rummage through the cabinets.
All I see is a container of oatmeal with a decent amount of oats left at the bottom. Just as I'm about to pour the oats into the boiling pot of water, I hear my grandma call my name.
"Coming granny!" I shout back at her.
I run full speed into the room. When I arrive in the room she's doubled over in what looks like pain. It appears as if she's tried to get out of bed by herself again. Everyday I tell her not too, because shes too weak to move on her own. And yet, everyday she tries. I have to admire her tenacity though. I know how hard it is to wake up knowing that can't do something, but try your hardest to do it anyways.
I rush over to her and lift her legs back onto the bed.
"Alicia baby I have to use the bathroom, and I thought maybe I could do it myself this time."
"I know granny. Next time just call me okay?" I coo at her, trying to sound gentle so she doesn't think I'm upset with her.
I grab her walker out of the corner and position it in front of her.
"Okay granny, on 3" I remind her. She waves me off with her hand, insisting that she knows the drill already. Sassy. I place my arms around her waist and lift slightly, so that I'm supporting most of her weight. Granny places her hands on the walker and tries to scuttle forward. I know how weak her legs are so I keep my arms around her waist as I guide her to the bathroom, down the short hallway. She whines in protest to the pain and my heart aches at the sound. I assure her that it's only for a little while as I guide her bottom to the toilet seat. I walk out the bathroom and back into the kitchen to find Aaliyah with oats all over the ground. I stare in horror as I see the days meal scattered all over the floor.
"Aaliyah no! What have you done." I shout. She jumps back at the sound of my voice.
"Well you was helping grammy and I was so hungry, so I make oatmeal myself but then I dropped it and made a uh-oh." She rambles on about how sorry she is, clearly afraid of my reaction. Part of me is freaking livid about this, but the other part understands where her mind was and makes it hard for me to yell at her. I take a deep breath to steady my voice before I speak.
"Okay Ally, just go sit in the room so I can clean up." The weight of the fallen oats lay heavy on my chest. I have to feed them and that was the only thing left. When I hear grandma cry out for me, I remember that I left her in the bathroom. I walk down the hall and into the bathroom to help granny. We go through the motions and within two minutes shes sitting in the bed again, right next to Aaliyah. I turn the tv on for them, so I can figure out what to do about food. I walk back into the kitchen and proceed to clean up Aaliyah's mess. Turning the boiling pot of water off, I tread to the refrigerator. Okay, there's a little milk left and a yogurt that expired two weeks ago. Alongside that, there's a few slices of bread in a bag.
I grab all three of the contents and attempt to make a meal out of them. I take them into the room and give the milk to Aaliyah, the yogurt to grandma and each of them a slice of bread. Its not much but they thank me none the less. I stand there for a minute, watching them eat and stroking granny's curly gray hair. I ponder what to do about the shortage of food and decide that standing here wont help. I kiss them both on the cheeks and instruct Aaliyah to be good for granny for a couple of hours while I'm gone. Then I throw on a jacket and some shoes and head out of the door.
For a moment I just sit outside the shabby apartment and think. I close my eyes and flashback to a time much simpler than this one.

* "Mommy!" I scream and wait for her dark skin to appear in the doorway.
"Yes baby?" I hear her before I see her, her voice like warm milk and honey on a cold night. I peer up at her and watch as her wide lips pull back in a smile, revealing her bright teeth. She's so beautiful, I think to myself. I want to look just like her when I grow up.
"Can you come play hopscotch with me?" I gesture to the poorly drawn blocks in the driveway.
"Sure baby" she coos at me. She then removes her flip flops and begins to expertly skip across the driveway, hitting all the squares perfectly.
I cant help but giggle hysterically, as I take in the sight of her flopping curls on the top of her head as she moves. When it's my turn, I try to hit the squares as perfectly as she does. I fail miserably and end up falling and scraping my knee. Before I can even whimper, my mother has me scooped into her arms and is kissing my knee repeatedly, making me giggle.
She smiles and looks up at me.
"Better?" she asks.
"Yes momma," I reply in my five year old voice. I take the opportunity of being in her arms to run my hands over her hair, momentarily smoothing it until I let go and it bounces back again. I latch my arms around her neck and relish the feeling of her continuing the game of hopscotch, with me in her arms. *

I'm snapped back to reality, at the sound of my stomach growling. Tears prick my eyes and for a moment I just want to run away and never come back here. But I force the thought from my head and mentally scold myself for even thinking so selfishly. They need me and I have to be strong for them, at all costs. I push myself off of the ground and head down the steps towards the exit.
As I step outside the air hits me and I cant help but take in a large breath and let the spring air fill my lungs. Spring. My mother's favorite season. I remember when she would pick flowers off the trees and stick them in her hair. With skin the color of the earth and flowers in her hair, she looked like mother nature herself. I shake the thoughts of my mother from my head and continue to walk down the sidewalk.

As if my feet can feel the hunger seeping down to their soles, they carry me to the only place where we can get food. The Church. When I cross the threshold, Sarah The Nun's face brightens at the sight of me. She paces over to me and quickly envelopes me in a hug. I smile faintly at the familiarity of the embrace.
"Hey sweetie how have you been?" she says into my hair.
"I've been okay." I lie. Thats the thing with adults, you always have to be fine. Even with nuns.
"Thats good to hear. So what brings you by so early." Here we go. I look down at my feet, too ashamed to be starving but starving too much to care.
"We're really hungry", I mumble to the floor. I still dont look up when she sighs.
"Come with me." I can hear the sad smile in her voice. I follow her quickly, momentarily forgetting my shame. Near the back of the church, there's a storage room where they keep all of their food. Most of it is donated but some comes from food banks in the city. She takes out three plastic bags and places various grocery items inside. By the time she's done, there's enough food to last us a week. She places the food on the table and turns to me, clearly not ready to let me leave yet.
"So, when was the last time you ate." She questions. I look down again.
"Thursday." Its Saturday. I know that I should have eaten sooner, but I was trying to make sure Granny and Aaliyah had enough for a few more days. Sarah sighs and turns towards the refrigerator in the corner of the room. She gets out a plate of something and sticks it in the microwave. When the food warms, the smell erupts from the microwave and I'm sure they can hear my stomach growling all the way on the boulevard. I feel the heat creep up my neck and settle on my cheeks like steam. You cant see the blush on my cheeks but you can see it in my eyes. Sarah smiles faintly and plucks the food out of the microwave. As soon as the food is in front of me, I lift the fork and immediately begin to shovel the spaghetti into my mouth. Sarah smacks the fork and scolds me for not saying my grace first. I stifle a complaint, close my eyes and put my hands together. I intend to just pretend but Sarah knows me too well and insists I say it aloud. After quickly reciting the prayer, I pick the fork up and continue to shovel food into my mouth. I cant deny the guilt that seeps into my pores and makes me sweat like I've sinned. Here I am enjoying a full meal and they are at home eating bread and expired yogurt. My guilty thoughts are interrupted when Sarah speaks.
"How's Anna doing?" The mention of my grandmother makes me stiffen and pause my assault on the food.
"She's been okay. She's doing a lot better now, walking and everything." I quickly say and avert my eyes. I really hate to lie in a church but it's become a sort of necessity.
If people were to discover the true state of my grandmother's health, Aaliyah and I would be whisked away in a heartbeat. Possibly separated in the system. Sarah seems pleasantly pleased with my lie and smiles in contentment.
"How's Amy? Have you heard from her?" A noodle is suddenly lodged in my throat and it takes me a moment to recuperate before I can answer the question.
"Well, I haven't heard from her lately."
I've spent the whole morning thinking about my mother, but the mention of her name sends a familiar wave of sorrow through my body. It starts in the pit of my stomach, grows up my torso and wraps its fingers around my neck, choking me until I gasp out for breath and the tears are gushing from the lack of oxygen. But when I snap back into reality, I reach up and feel my cheeks and they are dry. I've managed to maintain my poker face and I'm composed as usual. Sister Sarah is staring at me with an unreadable expression and I know she misses my mother too. My mother was basically raised in this church and Sarah was a major part of her life. My grandmother was a nun here for 40 years until she fell ill and retired. Sister Sarah helped raise me also and I am eternally grateful to still have this connection. When I look up at her, her silver hair has fallen in her face and her green eyes are slightly glazed over. I want to reach over to her and tell her that I feel her pain, but I'm selfish and the grief is mine alone. So instead, I stand up, kiss her on the cheek and grab the grocery bags.
I begin the short walk back home with the weight of hunger lifted from my chest, and the new weight of food swinging from hands.