This chair reminds me of the chair my mom had in her living room. My mom sat in this chair daily. Sometimes she did not even get in the bed as she would fall asleep in this chair. This is where my mom took her final eternal rest. Right in this chair. I had a poem brewing in my belly and I kept hearing recliner. As I began to write I thought of all the older Black women who deserve a rest. I think of all the older Black women who have gone to glory. This is an ode to my mom and other golden aged Black women. All the women whom shoulders I stand upon.
The Recliner
Lean and swivel back I deserve this time to relax And rest the tired arch in my back
I am soul tired
I have worked for over fifty years
Many nights of blood, sweat, and tears
My recliner gives my soul a rest
This chair I sit and reminisce
This chair is where I give my grandchildren kisses My recliner gives me a brief mental escape
I sit and reflect and my eyes begin to close from the heavy weight
The weight from memories of hardships and uphill battles
My recliner gave me my needed rest
Sitting in my recliner I spoke to God to get years of things off my chest
As Black women we know to just keep going and to do
It’s not a notion to leave things up to another to do We were conditioned to help fix you and to fix you Many times omitting to give ourselves a break Working hard trying to minimize our mistakes Silent brokenness
Unaccomplished goals
Robbing Peter to pay Paul
Sacrificing trips to the mall so the family wouldn’t know what it’s like to go without
Feverishly hiding your internal need to just shout Because my soul needs a rest
My recliner gave me that needed rest
I could sit like all the other Me Ma’s and Grandmas in my olden days
Because I have worked and wheeled and dealed Always making sure the family had meals
Even if that meant I didn’t
Black golden aged mothers have deserved every right to recline and sit
They have earned the right not to do sh&t
My feet and legs hurt
My bra straps have permanent indents in my shoulder
I carried the weight of the world in my heart Reflecting and thinking
Not having much but making every dollar stretch
Holding on to measures of faith and resilience
Not being recognized for intelligence genius
But full of common and practical experience
My recliner gives me rest I can relax and give my mind a rest
I spent my life continuously giving and offering help
Many Black women were the help
Cleaning toilets and keeping folk houses clean Pressing clothes and ironing making sure the clothes had a good steam
So my recliner gives my mind a rest I sit there for hours
Closing my eyes and drifting in out
My soul been needing a break
The Father heard me
One morning I did not wake I got my eternal rest I’m going up to yonda to be with my Lord Peacefully sleep
No more worry or even unspoken pain
In my recliner I took my final rest
I hear these words echoing in the transcendental parts of my soul
I’m alright I’m alright
Let me take my rest
Our foremothers, Nanas, Granny’s, Mamas all deserve a rest
Sleep on our beloveds sleep on
Rest in heaven Ma, the one and only Dorothy M. Whitmire October 7, 1942-May 13, 2020. I miss you everyday but I know you are alright.
@2021 Lyrical Lines by Tarinna Olley