{"id":470,"date":"2025-03-30T20:44:13","date_gmt":"2025-03-30T20:44:13","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blackmanwrites.com\/?p=470"},"modified":"2025-03-30T20:44:13","modified_gmt":"2025-03-30T20:44:13","slug":"we-dont-come-into-this-world-alone","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blackmanwrites.com\/?p=470","title":{"rendered":"We Don\u2019t Come Into This World Alone"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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This weekend reminded me: we don\u2019t come into this world alone, and when we leave it, the journey may be singular\u2014but we are never truly alone. The spirit, the love, and the legacy remain. They live with us. They live through<\/em> us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As our newly anointed ancestors begin their reunion with those who transitioned before them, those of us still here are gifted a moment to celebrate an extraordinary life. We send them off with reverence while the ancestors receive them with joy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rejoice. Recount. Renew.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rejoice<\/strong>\u2014to feel and show great joy. Black joy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I don\u2019t know when the shift happened\u2014from funerals to home goings, to memorials, to celebrations of life\u2014but I do know I was once deathly afraid of funerals. Literally. I was four years old when my grandfather William passed. I remember the sound of my mother\u2019s wail when she got the call. That moment etched itself into me\u2014the deep, soul-wracking cry. It shaped my relationship with grief. To this day, hearing a woman cry renders me helpless.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I didn\u2019t attend another funeral until I was nineteen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But this weekend, we celebrated the life of my Aunt Birdie. We rejoiced in the life<\/em> she lived.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Recount<\/strong>\u2014to share stories, memories, laughter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We told Aunt Birdie stories. Family stories. The kind passed down from generation to generation, in living rooms, around kitchen tables, on front porches. It\u2019s a ritual as old as time. The oral history of us<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Listening to those stories was like time travel. Even if you hadn\u2019t been there, the storytelling made it feel like you had. The words painted the scene so vividly, so fully, you could see it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Renew<\/strong>\u2014 to extend a further period of validity, of family.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Family has no expiration date but must be renewed periodically as a testament to the bond. It\u2019s the look of genuine love on your cousin\u2019s faces, the hugs that are never superficial, the knowing. The knowing. The ways of knowing in the governance structure of Black people, who we are to each other Every culture has some form of it, but we\u2014Black folks<\/em>\u2014we\u2019ve perfected it. It was on full display.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Two moments stood out to me.
Cynthia\u2019s cooking\u2014passed down from her mother\u2014seasoned with two things you can’t buy: love and love of family.
Her daughter, who the spirit of her late Uncle Chris, flows through her with the natural ability to keep you laughing (Chris used to say rollin\u2019) effortlessly with the exact same syncopation and cadence, and the mannerisms to match.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Grief looks different for everyone.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

When you can\u2019t reach out and touch someone you love anymore, you grieve. You must. But somehow\u2014somehow\u2014the joy of family wrapped itself around our mourning this weekend and said, not yet<\/em>. Just for now, joy had the final word.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Our parents, nearly all ancestors now, instilled in us the sacredness of family. They showed us by example what it means to show up. To stay connected. To love through distance and time. My generation gets it. Even if we don\u2019t gather often, the bond isn\u2019t broken. It\u2019s just waiting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We know when the call goes out\u2014whether it\u2019s a wedding or a homegoing\u2014we answer. Because community is the thing that holds us all together.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And one last thing\u2014
I gained more cousins this weekend. Aunt Birdie\u2019s side. And in that room, there were no boundaries. No separation. Just love flowing as freely as a great river. Like we were all Day Ones.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I love my family.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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