Another Sad Love Song

Shelby

"Mommy....", I pleaded for attention as I tug on the tip of my mother's plaid yellow dress. 

My mom was cooking a good old fashion southern breakfast, you know the usual. Gritty grits, slimy eggs,  bacon,  leftover ham, a dry hard biscuit, and some freshly squeaked orange juice. Yep just the way I like it. 

"Not now darling, I'm trying to feed y'all, you know how your brothers get when they don't get their fix." she said with a wink. I think by this time I had gotten a vague idea of what a "fix" was. The way my mom used it made it seem like it was something good. Like you needed your fixing of good applesauce or needed your fixing of some of them soap operas.

"Working 9 to 5, what a way to make a living, barely gettin' by...",  my mother sung as she was fixing plates that spread across the table like an expensive spread at Golden Coral. I think my mom only like the song because it seemed like Dolly Parton was singing to us. 

Let me tell you, when my father left us for the stupid blond waitress that worked at Ruby Tuesday and was a stripper at Big Daddy's Pub , not only could moma not stop singing Dolly Parton's "I will always love you" but she couldn't stop singing  Beyonce's "Irreplaceable". 

I swear I've always felt resentment toward my deadbeat father, ever since he left us a note on a damn sticky note that said..... 

"I've went out for milk, will be back soon..."

Resentment, when that "soon" never came.....

"Boys come get your food." My mom called, even though the grits just wasn't soft enough.

She hummed the rest of he tune as she pull out the dry biscuits out the oven. 

The biscuits that only represented what my emotions have become.

All three of my tall brother came out the den at one time. They stunk to high heavens and was as big as the house. Big stupid, stinky ,mean brothers. Why did you ever leave me alone? 

They all sat down peacefully, not a word from none of them. I should known something was wrong then. Damn, I should've knew. 

There was tension in the air. Tension so thick you could've tasted, or broke it with a damn fork or something. 

Of course being the naive seven year old I am, I broke the tension with adorableness. " I want to be a country singer when I grow up, moma. " Even though everyone seemed to be tense up, they all looked at me in awe. " Aw that is adorable, you can be a little Dolly Patron." 

"Or a Billy Ray Cyrus, I mean she looks like a dude", my youngest older brother said. I stuck my tongue out and pouted. "That's enough from you two." my mother jabbed and chuckled. 

Damn, did I really look like boy then too? Fuck my past, man.

I couldn't believe that after ten years, I could still recall the day like it was yesterday.I looked down at my mother in her gorgeous blood-red casket. She looked beautiful for her last celebration and she hadn't look this since that day I can recall. I look down and planted the final kiss she would ever receive, on top of her forehead. 

As the ceremony went on, I wondered if I can ever pick up my guitar again, since my mother taught me and she was the only one who ever heard me play. Even when it was one of my worst days,  and I didn't play quite as well as I would on a good day, even still she would listen to me play. 

I looked around and didn't see any of my brothers. I thought about my guitar again, I decide to name it after the only person who ever loved me, my mother, Shelby.

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Please tell me if I should continue this story!

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