TO YOU, AUNT JACKIE

It was a family secret, not intentionally but we never talked about it. I now know where I get it from, maybe its old school; maybe its generational; whatever it is I now have it too. I sometimes believe that if I don’t talk about it then it’s not real; that it’s really not happening. I don’t think that they really meant to keep it a secret; maybe they grieved enough when they found out, maybe they didn’t want to travel down that road again, I don’t know, I wasn’t here. Being married to a man in the military kept me out of the loop on a lot because I was away from home. Maybe they forgot to tell me; maybe they didn’t want me to worry while I was thousands of miles away in Germany. Maybe…Why didn’t I ask? Maybe I didn’t want to know…All I knew was that she was sick. When I moved back home I talked to her on the phone every other week, our conversations were powerful; anytime you talk about how good God is then it can’t help but be powerful. We had a family dinner, I think all but three or four of her nieces and nephews came – we were all home either permanently or visiting. It rained so hard, I guess the devil was trying to keep us from coming together but we made it anyway. It was a Soul Food movie moment except we had fun in the places where they had drama. My Aunt Jackie cooked most of the food – I heard that she insisted. She didn’t look sick at all – wow it can’t be that bad, I thought to myself.

The Aunt Jackie that I saw that night was her strong, fun loving self. Her smile was still beautiful; infectious. Everyone was tip toeing around her; she was walking tall around us. It was standing on her strength that made that rainy, dreary night seem like a sunny day. While there I went back to the “pink room,” this was the bedroom that I wished for when I was a little girl. I used to want to spend the night just so I could sleep in the pink room. Even during grown folks gatherings my cousin and I would slip away to the pink room when we were little girls – there was peace and solace in the pink room. Someone later told me that my aunt’s bad days and nights were spent in the pink room; we never saw these bad days and nights, she put up a good front. I think I'd been home a couple of years before I realized that my aunt had breast cancer and had been living with it for many years but was in remission while I was away; I never knew. When I think about all of the people that I have known that are living with breast cancer I am reminded of their strength. It was this year that God showed me that what appears to be strength to others is sometimes a façade; a very good front for their family and friends. As I travel down this road with one of my friends I must admit that even though she is doing great I sometimes find that it’s me that’s not strong enough. I try so hard but the “family rule” keeps surfacing and I can’t help but think that if we don’t talk about it… It never fails but no matter how much I try not to show it I usually end up leaning on her. Recently she showed me a sign of weakness and though I wasn’t ready for it I had to find the strength because I owed it to her. As she poured out her soul to me my heart was breaking because I couldn’t give her a hug; we were on the phone. Maybe a hug wouldn’t help, I don’t know…but I felt in my heart that I had to strengthen my friend and for a moment my mind went blank. How can I be strong for her? “Just pray,” came the still small voice. When you don’t know what to say, just pray…It was prayer that gave us both the strength that we needed in that moment.

Shhh… maybe if we don’t say anything it may go away. Yes, that’s my own personal curse with dealing with things that I hope I can learn to get past. I probably would have left this earth with that mentality until I recently had the privilege of seeing Dr. Jamal Harrison Bryant in person. He said that “there are some things that we have to claim.” We have been taught not to claim things and yes, if it’s not a sure thing then don’t claim it but there are some things that must be claimed, because if you don’t claim it, then God can’t heal it. I love you, Aunt Jackie. I’ll be looking for you in the pink room. TGBTG

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