Reader hopefully you have read the previous entry, 'Full Circles I', if not I strongly recommend that you complete that one first and then return to this one. This way you are able to keep up with my thoughts. Think of it as a pre-requisite.
So far in this particular season of my life I have experienced the passing of my mother in love, Bernice Howard and a gentle friend, Stacey N. Dabney. Both of these women were extremely influential in the short time that I got to travel with them. Trust me when I say I am openly grieving, not at their loss, because that would imply that I don't know where they are, but our temporary separation.
There have been other losses that I have experienced in 2015, all are met with the same disdain for death. Probably because I feel powerless, overwhelmed, insignificant and frail. I don't enjoy saying goodbye at anything let alone a soul that has been freed from its earthly confines. However, that is only a small portion of this piece. I promised to equate death to teaching.
Bernice Howard was not only my mother n love, she was my friend. She came from a different era. In her day people had some sort of decorum or moral code that they lived by. Women carried themselves with pride in the home and outside of it. Now there are exemptions, of course, but she was not one of them. Her hair was coal black and her skin was the color of rich dark chocolate. She had a beautifully crooked smile and eyes that danced with mischievousness. She birthed eleven babies, nine survived. She had a dysfunctional marriage but she managed to raise her children the best way she knew how. Mr. Howard was a non-factor. She kept up her appearance and loved to talk to people; even though when I first met her she was very guarded. Oh boy and could she cook! I have almost given up trying to recreate her fried corn dish. I remember her laughter whenever I would complain that mine just didn't taste like hers. She would reply it was so easy..keep trying. Bernice, bka Dea, loved her kids, her grandkids, daughters in love and life in general. She would tell you when you were wrong, she would encourage you to stand when you were right. She was saucy and held no punches (meaning she spoke her mind). She loved me because I was different, a proper talking, sassy, hippy, freckled face girl who had captured the heart of her two youngest children. Her daughter was and still is one of my closest friends and her son, well I married him.
When many of the family choose not to understand the boys; or when they decided not to connect with Nathan because if we lost him their was no attachment, she stood firm with me. She loved and held those boys like they were her last. She loved and accepted Ehlissa way before her son and I said our vows. Family was family to her. No matter how different they were. She held my hand when I wanted to unleash all of my anger on the ignorance that was being displayed within our family. She reminded me that I never, ever have to stoop to anyone's level to get my point across. Learn all I can about my kids, because they are mine and no one could take that from me. She kept me calm through many storms of prejudice and intolerance in the circles we shared. So many things I will miss but one of the most is her sense of humor. Every time she saw me she made sure to relay that she was going to 'kick my butt' about something or another. That was our thing. She knew adversity. She knew how far colored people had come and how far we still needed to go. Thru her life I learned a thing or three about people. Her parting, so sudden and unexpected, taught me that no matter what type of anchors we have in this world, when the Lord calls we don't have any choice but to answer. So live an honorable life and you will have little worries.
Did I learn more from her death than her life? Certainly not. I respected her and admired her for all of her tenacity. She planned her arrangements, she organized her final affairs to the best of her abilities. She had little to no worries.
-sj
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