My sweet mother died last January. A year earlier, my brother died. At his funeral, my mama who had lost her normal, every day mind six months earlier, lashed out at my sisters and me. She was tired of not being able to go to the bathroom by herself and being treated as a 3 year old. In one way my mama knew all that was going on, but 10 seconds later, she was peeing on herself and spitting up. That is what happens in old age when you reach 90 years old. My mother was the strongest woman in the world. She made us strong, yet she was so frail at the end.

As I get older every day and as I forget a thing or two, I wonder about life. Maybe it isn’t so much about us all losing our minds at the end. Instead, we should not mourn for their last days but rejoice in the contributions and gifts they gave to us over their entire lifetimes.

God Bless all of our Mamas, Tias and ancestors and each other.

Love,
Dee

my heart is with you and your family and your strong loving inspiring relatives–xoxoxoxo

i hope that this words wrap around your heart.
i pray for you…

may you know love
may you know peace
may you know peace of mind
may you be safe

mbuya nehanda

‘ when i was born and saw the light
i was no stranger in the world
something inescapable
shapeless and without words
appeared in the form of my mother
so when i die
the same unknown will appear again
as ever known to me
and because i love this life
i know i shall love death as well
the child cries out when
from the right breast
the mother takes it away
in the next moment
to find in the left one
its consolatiom

Rabindranath Tagore from Gitanjali