http://spillwords.com/author/phyllispcolucci/
https://www.amazon.com/Phyllis-P.-Colucci/e/B00VMU8B44
(Photos From Pinterest)
“A Little Black
Dress”
There was a
story I was told
By an Uncle, long ago
About my loving
Grandmother
A story I
didn’t know
In the early
1900s
She had a
special job
She was asked
to be a “Mourner”
Although I
listened, I found this odd
As a paid
“Mourner”, at a stranger’s funeral
She would wail,
she would cry; and I now ask “Why?”
For someone she
didn’t know?
In exchange for a bag of coal?
To heat her home and cook her food?
To protect her growing brood?
My Uncle,
himself, was just a child
He had three
other brothers, including my Dad
There was his
baby sister too –
My Grandfather;
My Grandmother
And this story
that made me so sad
About that “Little
Black Dress”
All the
children knew so well
It hung outside
the old closet
that had that cedar smell
They knew
Grandmother would be heading out for the night
To perform a
duty that literally brought home light
…Too young to
fully understand…
Even I was
confused, as I reached out for my Uncle’s hand
Begging him to
further explain
As my cheek did
bear one lonely tear stain
But before he told
me this full story
With all of its proud, yet humble glory
- About my Grandmother
“Mourning - for Coal”
- About my
Grandmother in those days of ol’…
He simply mentioned
her “Little Black Dress”
The one on the hanger that caused this mess
The one she wore when she stepped out for
the night
The one that caused so much fright!
I thought, “How
could this be?”
Was Grandmother
really “A Lady of the Night”?
In a “Little Black Dress” that caused so
much fright?
My God, did
Grandmother abandon her family?
to engage in something unmannerly?
Was she looking
for lust; was she looking for money?
Was she looking
for a taste of carnal honey?
Poor Grandfather!
My poor Dad, Uncles and sweet Aunt…
My heart
stopped as I listened some more!
Oh my God! I just
can’t!
I thought, “No!
Not my loving Grandmother !”
Not this sweet
Italian lady
who made the finest meat and gravy
She would never
be a “Lady of the Night”
To me, my
Grandmother was a “heroine”;
strong and so very bright
Then my Uncle
finished up his story
and I
was very glad he did…
I soon learned
Grandmother was a courageous woman,
battling the weather and fearing the darkness
Yet performed a
duty - Yes, that she surely did!
Truth be told, she
was indeed a “Lady of the Night”
Loved,
respected and revered - to her family’s delight
A beautiful
woman, wearing a “Little Black Dress”
Who wailed and
cried for a stranger
Performing her task, more or less
A sign of the
times, when very little was had
A sign of the
times, that would make anyone mad
A sign of the
times, which turned women into warriors
A sign of the
times, that turned plain into glorious
Yes – just a wail,
a bag of coal, and a “Little Black Dress”
To my wonderful Grandmother – Much Love and
God Bless!
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
The above poem is a true story as
told to me by one of my paternal Uncles, about his Mom and my Grandmother. This
seemed to be a common occurrence in the early 1900s, and perhaps even in the
late 1800s and before. I found this story intriguing as well as historical. It was
a great story about my Grandmother, who performed a selfless act in order to
care for and protect her family; it was also a story about a time in history I
would never have known about if it weren’t for my Uncle, who shared it one day
while we were simply talking over a meal at his dining room table. This was a
wonderful treat for me. I will cherish this moment and this story forever. It
is part of my family history.