THIS IS WHAT I REMEMBER ABOUT THAT NIGHT—my last night alive. After having me a fine meal of crispy cornbread and dipping it in buttermilk just like Daddy used to do, I headed on back to the bathroom. I turned on the water in the tub, not too hot, but good enough to get my blood moving. I wanted to feel the life tingling through my veins.
For being seventy-eight years old, I can’t say as I ever felt more alive than I did that very night. It’s a funny thing knowing you gonna die soon. I felt the air kiss my skin. The sound of water rushed in my ears like a river. And I seen colors like I was seeing ‘em for the very first time—like I’d been blind up ’til then. I wanted to look back on my life and taste every speck of it, the good and the bad. It had been a good life, sure ’nough. I’d had me a fine mama and daddy, a sweet husband, and a beautiful grandbaby. My daughter had been my only real grief, seeing as she ain’t loved me too much, but I done the best I could with her, and I had peace with that.
I lay there in the water feeling it tickle down over my shoulders. I remembered when Jim would touch me like that. Oh, Jim, it won’t be long now, I thought. I was getting right excited about what I was gonna do. My blood was a-boiling and my fingers was itching to weave. By the grace of God, this was gonna be the finest basket I ever made. And everything that was bothering me—my house I was getting ready to lose, and the nursing home I was fixing to get stuck into, the stretch of highway I was gonna get kicked off of, and the tension ’tween my daughter and me—it was all gonna be over soon. Hallelujah, praise Jesus! Jim’d told me if I made one of my love baskets just one last time, that we’ll be together forever—and I could touch his sweet face again and meet Jesus just like I always wanted.
I reached down and pulled the plug by my feet and watched as the water and bubbles and all the dirt that was on me just a-washed down the drain. My body sure ain’t looked like it used to, no sir. My black skin was loose and not so pretty no more—not like it was when I met Jim and ’fore I had Henrietta. I was a good-looking woman back then if I do say so myself.
I grabbed on to the white porcelain and tried to pull myself up real slow. With all the water gone, my big ol’ body was dead weight and not so easy to lift. I wrapped my towel around me and looked in the mirror above the sink—at my gray hair still in them cornrows I been wearing forever and my shoulders all drooped from carrying this extra weight. But my eyes was what struck me the most. It sure is a strange thing looking into your own eyes and seeing the life in there, knowing it’ll all be gone soon.
I turned real quick and headed ’cross the hall to the bedroom, changing into my most comfortable nightgown, the one with the white lace ’round the hem like my wedding dress had. I stuck the cloth up close to my nose and breathed in real deep. I’ll always remember that. I been using the same washing powder since forever, so it’s the same smell Jim used to have when I’d hug him tight ’round the neck.
I’d already pulled my sweetgrass up onto the bed. I reached over and grabbed the picture frames propped up next to me and traced each and every face. There was Mama, God rest her soul. And Daddy right beside her. I guessed I’d be seeing ’em again real soon. I looked at the one of Henrietta and my sweet grandbaby, EJ. I sure was gonna be sad to leave my EJ, but he’d be all right without me. He was a fine young man and had his future to look after—ain’t no need to waste time looking after me no more.
The last picture I seen was of my Auntie Leona with her hair pulled up tight. She looked back at me, and I swear I could hear her say, “You can do it, Essie Mae. You got a strong head and an even stronger heart. Girl, you can do anythin’ you set your mind to.” So I pulled out my big-print Bible and grabbed Jim’s hair I’d stuck down in there. Then I used my free hand to reach ’round and pull one of my own hairs out my head. After twisting ’em up real tight, I closed my eyes and prayed, “I love You, sweet Jesus. Help me out now, Lord. Let this one work, please, and bring me on home. Sweet Jesus, go ’head and bring me on home.”
I weaved all night long ’til my fingers and my back was sore. My mind was racing so much, I ain’t felt it none ’til I was just about done. Once I realized it was almost finished, I said, “Whoa, now.” Not sure what was gonna happen to me. I’d asked God not to hit me with a Mack truck, but ain’t thought about what else might happen. Was it gonna hurt? Lord have mercy, all a sudden I was getting kinda scared. I decided to set my basket down and wait to finish it while sitting with Jim at my stand next morning. That way, I wouldn’t be alone when the good Lord called me to heaven, however He decided to take me there.