Hey! I’m so hype that we’ve made it to Episode 3! It’s almost 27 minutes. So to make it easier for you to listen, here are five things you can do while you listen to this episode.
Deep condition and moisturize your hair.
Take a warm bath and give yourself a steaming facial.
Lie back on your pillow and rest.
Take a drive to another town.
Sit down and fold your clothes.
TL:DL (Too Long; Don’t Listen):
Part 1:
I am a deeply spiritual woman. If I can’t do anything else, I know how to get a prayer through (my supplications and belief in God’s power and possibility are strong). I’ve never prayed for someone to die before. Tonight, I prayed that God would ease my Auntie Dee’s body into a restful peace and eternal sleep. And I asked that our family accept this with as much grace as we can muster.
But after my prayer, I became exhausted. I cried uncontrollably while praying on Google Meet with my folks. I gave everything I had. I released her. I no longer desire for her to be on this side as her body presses against the brink of death. I’ve never been this close to death before with cancer bursting through every cell of the body, causing the complete depletion of all we know in human form. Well, yes, I have—Covid-19 placed me in the bowels of hell that felt similar to an Earthly end. Yet, I have never lost anyone I love this much: someone who is as much a part of my story as are the limbs that are one with my body. And it’s something I never want to witness again. I don’t wish to sit by someone’s side while they are dying. For me, this feels like torture.
My Godmother taught me how to pray and take care of myself after “Spirit” (an energy, attitude, or being) engulfs me. Historically, spiritual leaders won’t touch parishoners with severe body pain, cancers, or illnesses; they don’t want the spirit of those conditions to “jump” onto them. Following these types of prayers, Mom taught me to follow a purifying protocol of cleaning my own body with water, soap, and oil to release myself from the hold of the illness or death. I was also to seal my belief with a lit candle.
This is for my Auntie Dee: what an honor to usher her into rest. For her, I am commissioned for this moment.
Part 2:
Today, I paid for toilet paper, trash bags, and paper plates for an elderly man—who looked like he used to be handsome—at Walmart. I heard him telling the cashier that he didn’t think he had enough money on his SNAP (Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program or food stamps) or TANF (Temporary and Needy Families or income that is a short-term cash assistance program for children and senior citizens) cards.
There was no way I could let that man walk out of that store without those three essential items. I suspect that in due time, many of us may not even receive these kinds of assistance that are paid for with our tax money. I know what it’s like to need each one of these. Someone eased my burden then so my heart met the challenge today. I didn’t want any recognition. I just wanted him to be ok enough to survive another day. It’s what I want for all of us.
Can you imagine how many of us are experiencing hardship that cause us to make the most difficult choices right now? Utilities or gas for our cars? Cleaning supplies or new underwear? Internet or laundry? Food or a bus fare for the week?
If you can, be an unlikely resource to an unlikely recipient. If you’re Black, support someone white. If you are white, offer to support a Latino family who may be struggling in any way since our new Administration took office. If you’ve got extra food, share some. If you’ve never talked to a neighbor or USPS personnel, please do. Or buy one item for someone at the Walmart.
(My Blackest Side family: I am processing grief in a way that allows me to be open to whatever I feel without running from it. I am sharing as much as my heart will allow in this moment. I understand that some of this may trigger you because many of us have experienced calamity in our own bodies, watched others suffer greatly, or we may not believe in a “God” or “Spirit.” That’s ok. I ask that you accept my offerings without judgment because these are my beliefs—and don’t have to be yours. I honor and respect your presence here. With love, I share and give in my sorrow.)
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