When I’m alone in the water, I have plenty of time to talk to my-self. Today I’m rapt in reverent silence as I excite the fact I am the grandson of persons who did not graduate high school. I call their names: Elsie, Willie Louis, Tissie, Bud, Mae and lament their absence from where I fondly recall them being. Their living room, kitchen, porch and front yard are places where I would and very much want to meet to regale them with the details of my adventures. “You are with me now,” I speak to the sky. “Reach me in the Spirit,” I plead to the wind. I hope the seas and air deliver my messages priority first class to their resting places. A living room with no walls or ceiling, a kitchen where food is always ready, a porch with rocking chairs for all their children and children’s children, and front yard where the grass is always three inches high.
I call their names wherever I am. My days on the Manhattan and Arubian islands begin with their invocation. That ritual rouses their contribution to my DNA. It gives prominence to their wisdom, fortitude, patience and whatever else (of them, now in me which) secured them to old age, allowed them to see their children graduate from universities across the country and their grandchildren to wade in waters around the globe. When the waves tap the sea shelf, I hear Willie Louis packing tobacco in his pipe in the recliner in his living room. When the heat bakes the sand, I smell tea cakes browning in Elsie’s kitchen. When the Moon or Sun appear over the horizon, I know Tissie and Bud and Mae are shining light on my path as they rock the night away from their porch and walk over the front yard’s morning dew to greet the new day.
Time with my elders is immemorial in the grand scheme of Life. In this phase of the plan however, it has been limited. They all departed before my mid-teenage years. Rather than weep in revery, I have the balance of my life to repeat the wise words they spoke in telling the long stories of how they endured lynching, segregation and disenfranchisement in the 30’s, 40’s and 50’s and the joy inspired in them while they watched their children Fight the Power, Damn the Man and succeed in the 60’s, 70’s and 80’s. After coming of age in the 90’s, I boast to the my-self in these 2000’s, “Look how far we’ve come!!”
“You have their bodies but, their souls are alive in me,” I remind the ground.
As I swim the medium between my elders material remains and heavenly bodies, I acknowledge the efforts they made to keep their children and me afloat. “This is only the beginning,” I shout to anything listening. “The narrative you passed to me is yet being written and you ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” I pledge to my grandparents directly.
H Lloyd Weston
Dear Andrew, I am moved to tears by this amazingly touching and brilliant piece of writing. Sounds like what I would encounter in a first rate novel. Congratulations! you should develop this. Your talent is awesome. I like very much. Truly wonderful. Thanks for this extraordinary insight into your background. Have a lovely day my dear friend.
Andrew Bell
Oh Lloyd! Thank You for continuing to pave the way started many generations ago. I trail in footsteps like your until I’m ready to cut a path of my own. Lead on good Friend.
Pearl
All I can say is you remind all of us of the power of remembrance, undying creativity, recognition and love. A truly inspirational piece! Write On my Brother, Right On!
Andrew Bell
Thanks Sister, for your example and witness!
ghurron briscoe
The generativity piece is an adage of your reflection chum! Bravo! -GB
Andrew Bell
Thanks for the support Brother.
pat
Beautiful. I too have just recently begun to make this a ritual.
Andrew Bell
Amen. Great way to keep the important considerations in mind.
GrannyBeth
Andrew Dear, I can hardly see the keyboard; my eyes insist on being so emotional…while my fingers are trying to regain some sense of composure. The love message that you have written has completely “blown me away!” Your connection to those beautiful Family members who gave you your sense of identity and who anchored you to their histories and their realities will be forever with you, as is your DNA. We are so privileged to share this space with you and view, out of your window, an awesome mix of reverence
and exciting potential for the loving and logical world that you deserve. May this be the opening chapter of…the rest of your story. Sent with love 🙂
Andrew Bell
Dear dear Beth,
THANK YOU.