momma... im beginning to trust the world. i always struggle to find the words to express my feelings fully. not in a sense to let you know that i love you, or that i miss you, but the words to let you know that the life you lived was beautiful. ideas and thoughts that speak to the great influence you were and continue to be: a model of excellence. i feel i have been spoiled, growing up i never questioned if i was loved or supported, i never had any doubt in whether or not you believed in me or thought i was beautiful. as a black mother you held yourself accountable for my well being, you taught me the ethic of survival, truth, and explicit expression of inward feelings. you were everything a son could ask for, and i am indebted to your selflessness. there is no greater love than that which you loved me with...but, this too has been one of my many struggles. i know what love is, how it feels, its serenity, its security, its calm. but i also know what it means for this love to be taken away without explanation, without cause, except for the fact that you wanted to be healthy and whole. it was unfathomable that day we got the news that you would receive a kidney. we as friends and family cried and prayed in celebration, hoped and believed as a community that the desires of your heart would be granted. and it was. but the murky part begins when your life, unexpectedly and after a successful surgery, ceases to exist. we never knew that the very thing we prayed for and worked for would be the cause of your *demise*. the question then is would we still have wanted you to undergo surgery if we knew that it would be lead to your death? its an conflicting binary, momma: suffering and life, or death and *peace*. i must say, im not as optimistic or hopeful as some of our friends and family. i do not believe in heaven, or some cosmological just reward for an eternity because of our laborious perseverance and godly obedience here on earth. momma, i dont even believe in god, which has nothing to do with the way in which you died. but, i must say, i do not believe i will ever see you again. and you know what, i like it that way. in a sense, it is necessary: a reconciliation and commitment to the present world we live in. you remind us of what it means to be flawed creatures, momma. a reminder that we are in a world that does not bow to human virtue and desire, but a world that is neutral and selectively hospitable. you remind us to make every moment precious and meaningful, to live life without restriction and inhibition. you teach us that the true value of life is located in the moments of community, our commitment and participation in the well being of others. so much so that if you never had a kidney transplant, your life would still be fruitful and climatic because you loved us and we loved you. you believed in us and we believed in you. the intimate ideal that heaven had already come and we were living in it, we just needed to recognized it. i use to long for tears on this day, or any other day because i felt my sorrow was the only way to keep you alive. i believed that if i potentially allowed someone to get close to me and love me that it would begin to overshadow and dismember my relationship with you. i know now that this is not the case, but that the only way to keep you alive in my heart is to be happy. to want to be happy, momma. because you were happy. this moment will always be melancholic because you are away from me, from us. but, it is also a celebration because you did not allow yourself to be conquered. you maintained a commendable level of dignity and happiness here on earth, notwithstanding your physical ailment, and that right there is enough in this world for me. Yvonne, momma, you are what i hope to be one day: christ-like. -Your J.
Posted on: Tue, 06 Jan 2015 19:42:01 +0000