by BobA. Troutt
***
“He fell silent as tears clouded our eyes,” said Dennis. “Bonnie was the last word I heard Debra say. Aunt Betty,” said Dennis. “Maybe you need to take Bonnie out in the hallway.”
Dennis stepped up and took over telling the rest of Debra’s story.
About then the doctor came in, examined Debra’s body, looked up at me and shook his head. I took her back home to the hills and hollows of East Tennessee to be buried. At the gravesite of her mother, Bonnie stood a brave young girl. She stood by her mother’s with me. There was a fine mist of rain, drizzling. Slowly, the rain started to bead up on top of the casket. Carefully, Bonnie placed her hand on top of the coffin and ran it across the top. The little droplets of rain beaded up between her fingers and quickly ran off the side. In the quietness of the moment, a frail voice spoke out, “I remember Mama.”
The long ride home was a quiet one. I had received notice from the adoption agency. I was approved to adopt Bonnie. The following week at the 1969 Country Music Awards, Bonnie and I went forward together to accept Debra’s award. “Fourteen Shiny New Pennies” won the Songwriter’s Achievement Award, and received a standing ovation. In the roaring applause, eyes filled with tears. The audience fell quiet, as a hush filled the room. A little girl named Bonnie softly said, “I love you, Mommy.”