Tuesday, April 19, 2011

The ART of MOURNing....

Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.  ~ The Wonder Years.  I believe that whoever stated that mourning isn’t an art lied to themselves; this past weekend, I witnessed mourning at its best.  As mentioned last week, my grandfather passed.  During my 2 hour journey to be with my family on Friday, I began to replay my fondest memories with my stepmother’s family.  My Texarkana family never lets me down; from stories, laughter, to continued laughter, I enjoyed every visit possible.  Each family member was unique and special to me; some were quiet mannered, while others were vocal in all aspects.  It’s funny how all of that flew out the window when I arrived at Lou and PaPa’s house.  I wasn’t sure how the weekend would play out; I wasn’t even sure how to comfort any of the individuals in the house.  To my surprise, the walk to the back door felt just like the old days….warm & inviting.  WAIT. I remember my stepmother saying to another relative that anyone who wasn’t family or not a regular visitor would attempt to enter through the front door; this weekend was the 1st time that I really EVER used the front door….all the action happened coming through the back door. RESUME


Somehow, family must have been reading my mind:  Whenever you have deep thoughts, a trip to get a mani/pedi is ALWAYS the trick!  During the drive,  I heard a song that I must have been dodging since the album arrived on the scene…the new Kirk Franklin.  Of course, the single “I Smile” came on….

I smile, even though I'm hurt see I smile,
I know God is working so I smile,
Even though I've been here for a while
I smile, smile..
it's so hard to look up when you look down.
I sure would hate to see you give up now
You look so much better when you smile, so smile.”

REALLY???  Could this song not come at a more perfect time; even during the moments of mourning, God still wanted my family to SMILE….the question was: would we realize this?    The services for PaPa were beautiful; mournful, yet beautiful.  Beautiful moments happen for beautiful people.  My art of mourning came from an abundance of tears, smiles, and happy memories; others expressed their goodbyes differently.  Either way, we all said our “Goodbyes” to PaPa the best we knew how; needless to say once the day was over, I begin to admire and appreciate the art of mourning.  Mourning is the emotional state of letting go of a situation; in this case, it was my family’s verbal way of holding on to the memories of a great man.


Whoever said that a Creole Soul couldn’t cry…well, they lied….

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