Last Thursday I went to a friend's mother's funeral. While sitting in the chapel, during her service, all I could think about was how loved she was by so many. Call me weird if you'd like, but I enjoy listening to others talk about how they met the deceased and what the person meant to them. During my own mother's wake, I stood at her casket like I was a security guard. I wouldn't step away from it. I wanted to meet all the people who would miss her. So, when they walked up to her casket for a final viewing, if I didn't know them, I asked who they were and how they knew her. And I loved hearing each and every one of 'em tell me his/her story. I clearly see that our lives are comprised of a series of stories. Most-- great, hopefully. Some--not so great. What I know for sure, though, is that Bobby's (the friend) mother was loved and will continue to be for as long as those who love her have breath. Bobby broke down at the final viewing of her body and wailed one of the most sorrowful sounds I've ever heard. I've been in his position before. I've walked in his shoes. If he's anything like me and all my siblings, his heart will eventually heal. And it will always reserve a special place within its chambers to house his eternal devotion to his mother. 'Cause, truth be told, only his mother's physical body is gone. Her spirit lives on. Indeed, Dr. Bimkubwa L. Thandiwe, your spirit lives on!! And on! And on!
P.S. - And, oh, this fine lady's given name at birth was,
JUANITA. So, you know, for that reason alone, she was A-okay with me!!!!!
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