Read more "We ride grief; we do not conquer it"
We ride grief in waves; we do not conquer it. It is wide and wild and ebbing, coming back to drench you when you think you have wiped your face dry of tears. If you know someone who is riding grief and you ask, “How are you?” They may just be answering for that day. Because tomorrow might just be all wet and the day after that, the sun again rises. Just stand in the water with them and wade. That is how we live.
I was trying to comprehend exactly why the death of poet Amiri Baraka affected me so deeply. I cried when I heard. I haven’t read his work in years, I didn’t always agree with his politics and polemics, but still…I feel I lost something yesterday afternoon. Amiri Baraka spoke at Florida State when I attended, I think […]Read more "In Memoriam: Amiri Baraka Made My World a Black Poem"
Last night I saw my grandmother in my dreams (she passed away on October 5, 2013). I had moved to a new home and stood watching a honey-toned, elderly woman rock on a porch swing across the street. She looks like Grandma…wait, no, that’s her sister! And when my dreamself realized that I had a […]Read more "Wading Through Grief One Tear at a Time"
My grandma died this morning. She was the best square dancing, salmon croquette making, 7UP cake baking, silver Afroed beauty I ever knew. She lived a life that taught me to create adventure rather than waiting to happen upon it. Lennye was the flyest older woman I ever met, face beat to the gods on […]Read more "Goodbye Grandma, Gently into that Good Night"
I began stealing from my grandma three years ago. When I realized that one day I would not be able to wake up and find her sitting in the kitchen, watching a 13-inch black-and-white television, I needed something concrete. I needed something tangible to slow the slide of time that had pushed, like a loose […]Read more "Parkinson’s: Stealing from Grandma"