My mom’s spirit
continues to dwell in all the spaces and within the lives whom she comforted,
inspired,
protected, encouraged, and empowered.
Yet, this moment
allowed for re-remembering of her physical presence. In that short reflective
stillness, I could hear her voice amid the silence, I even inhaled her scent,
and I could feel her strength of conviction…Frances Gustine (Smith) Singleton
while absence in body showered her memorial place, gifting me-us, with her
spirit.
Heretofore, I
hadn’t identified my mom with or as one of my (our) ancestors. Better
stated, I hadn't fully comprehended her celestial status, or ancestral
positioning among the cloud of witnesses who preceded her.
As I stood there
over her marker, I allowed myself to drift past this dimension of
consciousness. I heard myself preaching words of comfort on June 30, 2007, as I quoted James Weldon Johnson:
“Weep not,
weep not,
She is not dead;
She's resting in the bosom of Jesus.
Heart-broken husband--weep no more;
Grief-stricken son--weep no more;
Left-lonesome daughter --weep no more;
She only just gone
home.”
I knew what I
intended for that occasion but today gave way to a depth of understanding,
a way of knowing revealed in re-remembering. When we submit to the process,
re-remembering removes veils, unearths truth, soothes souls, heals hearts, and
restores order and divine purpose.
Indeed, just as I
proclaimed during her earthly departure, “She is not dead”.
My mom had returned
to sage status, to royalty, rooted in the tradition of resurrected life: she lived. she
died. she is risen and is present again. She like the ancestors before
her completed her bodily journey and is now commended to the spiritual realm which
can’t be contained.
Standing in that
place meant for completed anatomical usefulness, my re-remembering and my mom’s
spirit affirmed: “She is not dead”. Her work continues just
as the other ancestors preceding her.
Our ancestors are
our guides, our strength, and our source of wisdom. Never discard or disregard
our dearly departed, they still have words of wisdom and healing to speak, and
lessons to impart.
They don’t speak
from the grave, they communicate from beyond human dimensions, deliberating
with incomprehensible sagacity, inviting us to listen with a trusting,
expecting, and accepting imagination. For they are co-conspirators united with
the Creator. In short, the ancestors help us believe, and in Sankofa-like
fashion remind us of the past, while pointing us toward the yet attained.
As an earthly
guide, my mom instructed me to “develop holy boldness”. Speaking
through eternity, she intimates love is an indestructible force, “become
Love”. My ancestor and
mom has spoken, “become Love”. “She is not dead…She only
just gone home”, alongside the Creator, my ancestor channels
wisdom and direction guiding me into my divine purpose, “become Love”,
she says.
