This morning I attended a Baptist funeral service in Harlem, a "home-going celebration" for our dearly loved colleague who was survived by the immense group of people that filled the congregation to the rafters. The ceremony was beautiful, but it ran a veritable emotional decathlon, maneuvering between gut-busting grief, reverent sadness and outright booty-dancing joy. This experience was both cathartic and exhausting, so I have spent the day processing at my desk, making no pretense of productivity.
In her honor (this woman loved to point out my idiosyncrasies and slap her thighs laughing at them), I forwent my torturous heels for the afternoon and am now rocking the above-pictured Melanie Griffith look, circa 1988).
The world was a brighter place with her around. To quote her obituary, she "graduated with high honors. She has wings. So don't be surprised if you see her flying around your house one day."
In her honor (this woman loved to point out my idiosyncrasies and slap her thighs laughing at them), I forwent my torturous heels for the afternoon and am now rocking the above-pictured Melanie Griffith look, circa 1988).
The world was a brighter place with her around. To quote her obituary, she "graduated with high honors. She has wings. So don't be surprised if you see her flying around your house one day."
Posts
2 comments:
You got me, bleary-eyed, and I sweat your compound words. Beautiful.
Post a Comment