Oh, Lawd take me with ya! Black people in mourning.

I am sitting in the dinning room at my cousins house. We are all here together after many years to mourn the passing of my Aunt. Now this aint no slow music, weepy eyed morning we doin over here. Folks is playing spades, children are doing shows, some people have a little rum or some other sip-sip. Either way, we are all together and for the most part we are smiling and laughing and happy to see each other. We talk about my Aunt. Ruby.......... she told me a story about when she was younger and they used to call her little Egypt cause she was so cute and reminded the men of an egyptian portrait. She was one of the first older, (very) busty women who wore it well and with out shame and would whip those babies out to share with anyone who wanted to witness their majesty. And yes, I've seen them and they are majestic (must like mine ;-). But I remember her as always with a smile on her face and so much happiness. When ever she would come to visit with my cousins we would wait with baited breath. Stay up all night looking out the window. This was the first portion of the family that came to visit us and they (she) was special. Because she made us feel special. That someone would venture to the unpopular south (Mississippi) to visit us. We were poor and didn't have a lot of space but we sure had a lot of love. When my (grand)Mother was ill she came to visit. We knew that there was not much that she could do physically but her presence ment a lot to me. (I can't speak for anyone else. Though I suspect we all felt the same way.) Visiting her was the only "family trip" I took with my family. And yes it was complete with tupperware containers filled with fried chicken and pound cake. We were so excited! Our cousins had a house with an upstairs!!!! We couldn't believe it. We were so green...and country!!!...lol. But they made us feel so at home and so welcome.

So when we get together to mourn the lose of a loved one or the transition of one that we care deeply about, its like a festival! Completly and fully alive and celebratory of the one that we love and miss. Of course there are numerous quiet side conversations that allow us to connect privately and personally. We comfort one another without pity and hug each other just because we are passing in the hallway. I've seen so many of my younger cousins that are now taller than me that I feel like my elders when they would look at me and say, "you look just like your mama" or "is this Bertha and Jimmie's girl, lawd hamercy!" Its beautiful and makes me wonder why we don't get together 'just cause'. I suppose survival keeps us so engaged that we don't think its possible. Then something like this comes up and we realize how precious life is and we wouldn't dare let them go through this without surrounding them with our love and support.

Every person at this gathering is welcome. And we each bring our own speciality to the table. I happen to be the resident vegitarian and health nut (though I feel my practice leaves a lot of room for improvement), my cousin Lakerry is the family comedian and so we all work together to bring each other to a beautiful place. Friends of the family come by to offer support as well as distraction from the intensity of our lose and each contribution is perfect. Cause this is how black people mourn.

We don't wear black. We don't sit quietly. We don't fight over the inheritance. We don't rent hotel rooms. We celebrate and we sleep on the floor. We figure it out. 'Cause we family. And this is how we mourn. Sure we might scream and shout at the service and beg to be taken with the deceased but in the end we support each other through the lose, the pain, the sorry, the greif and the healing. This is how black people mourn, ..... this is how my family mourns.