Sunday, July 3, 2016

Nah son, we fresh out.

When my sister walked into the church, my first thought was Granny is gonna be pissed. She's in here with pants on. She know damn well Granny don’t like that. Then Aunt Scar walked by with some damn pants on. And the lady my Uncle came with. Crazy what your grief does to you. Reveals to you the strangest things. I actually stopped crying and had that thought as clear as waters in the Virgin Islands. I literally turned into my Grandmother while I shook my head and mentally shamed them all. The, I realized she would probably say my dress too short and my heels were too high. I smiled and shamed myself. But, I would have gotten a pass since I did have on a dress.

This is hard. Not in the sense that we wanted her to live forever. Okay, maybe we kinda did. But we are a family of faith. So we know that this wasn’t meant for always. It’s just we don’t have any more. We GurleyGirls have no more grandparents. And they spoiled us with so much love that we can’t help but be selfish at such a time that this is.

When my daddie’s mommie went on home to the Lord, I turned a bit lifeless. I had no understanding of the words that came out of the phone. I unplugged the green v-tech phone from the wall and died a little in my Scooby Doo bed. I didn’t leave my suite in Saxon for what seemed like an eternity. I couldn’t have said more than 10 words that entire day. Nobody knew what happened. I literally told nobody.

Then my PawPaw. You gotta understand the unholy thing I became when I got that news. Maybe you don’t have to understand it. But my life ain’t been the same since. When I talk to you about my daddie’s love for me, PawPaw is where it was made. He authored every lovely thing inside my daddie. Then my daddie wrote it all in me. It was around Christmas time. I don’t really like Christmas anymore. I act like it though. Cause that’s the right thing to do, I think. And Jesus birthday party, so turn up.

At the funeral, Uncle Charles, began to share words with us from the pulpit. He said to us grand’chirren that it’s okay. That it’s hard to understand. But PawPaw gone on home. That he was chasing after heaven. Then he sang a song. It felt like each word was excavating my soul from inside of me. I could feel my insides coming undone. I couldn’t get out of that place fast enough. Left a trail of tears on that dirt road. I went to Texarkana and walked around the Mall for a while. Then I bought my daddie a book from the Christian Bookstore he likes.

The year my great granny (big mama) passed, I got to see her in the hospital in Texarkana. I hate hospitals. Maybe I’ll tell you about that another time. Anyway, she told me to come to her bedside. She knew I would soon be driving back to wherever the hell I was living at the time. She told me to go to school, learn all I can, and not to pick up any strangers on the road. I giggled. She smiled. Granny asked me to come to her funeral, so I did. I maybe lasted 10 minutes. I darted out of there so fast, you would have thought I was trying out for the USA Olympic track team.

Now she gone. And we ain’t got a single grandparent left. And there was no getting out of her Memorial Service. I had to do it. Even if part of me had to die in the process.

Funerals are terrible things for me because of how they work. We parade the grieving family in. We escort them out. We ornate them in hugs, kisses, condolences, without even asking if they want them. Do you know how many people touched me? Like just about everyone. And each unwelcomed touch burned a hole through my skin. I absolutely can’t stand being touched when I'm that emotional. When I did hurdles trying to get out of PawPaw’s funeral my Mama came after me. I wouldn’t even let her get close to me, and like, I lived in her uterus. Everyone wants to hug you, but it’s an emotional assault of the worst kind to me. It takes a lifetime to recover from.

I sat quietly while everyone ate. A chair, near the door. I needed the air. Like so quiet. I didn’t want to be touched or talked to. I was like the emperor not wearing clothes. Maybe if I act like I’m invisible, nobody will see me. A woman asked if I was okay, and if I needed something to eat. I didn’t want to eat their food. Stupid funeral food. She asked if I wanted water. If I wanted some dessert. She petitioned me to allow her to serve me in some way. I didn’t say to her what I was thinking in that moment. Because, granny would have been pissed.

But these are the places where God reveals Himself. That nature of who He is and the power that He has. I have known God in so many ways. As a Healer when my daddie got real sick. As a Provider when near the end of each month, my needs are consistently met. But I now know Him, like for real for real as a Comforter. When I told my friend-parents that granny died, they did exactly what I asked them to do. Not speak of it. While I was with them, my sister told me about the Memorial Service. They changed their day. Whatever I needed. They allowed me to hold their son while people spoke of the wonderful things my granny did. They didn’t touch me or grab me like other people. They just sat there. And, when track practice began again and I high-jumped over the baby’s car seat, he came after me just like Mama did. But he didn’t try to touch me. He was handing me the car keys. In my grief I said Don’t give me those dude, I’m a runner. I might take off. It’s hilarious now, but I would have left a trail of sorrow down Runnymede Street just like I did that dirt road.

See, the thing is, if your grandparents were anything like mine, then they personified strength. They had strong hands and stronger prayers. They were the gate keepers to our souls. They are the reason we black girls have magic. They are the reason we black girls ARE magic. It was their magic first. And all these years, they were teaching us how to use it. Now we gurley kids gotta figure it out on our own. #BlessGodForAuntsAndUnclesTho

…and I don't know where to begin.