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Mystified Mother

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Can a mother forget the infant at her breast,
    walk away from the baby she bore?  – Isaiah 49:15a, MSG

It is Mother’s Day today, but all I can focus on is the fact that four years ago, on the 9th of May, I laid my eldest son to rest. Because I lost a child, each Mother’s Day since his passing, I am mystified whenever I think about being a mother who outlived her oldest son.

I am utterly bewildered because I feel sad and happy on Mother’s Day. I am sad because I lost a son whom I miss every day, and I am blessed (happy) because I still have a son – my youngest son – whom I see every day.

Furthermore, because I am still grieving Ade’s death, Mother’s Day is extremely bittersweet. That is to say, on one hand, I feel immense joy because I was blessed with two sons (Ade and Tarik). I also feel enormous gratitude for every moment I have had with both of them. On the other hand, the pain from missing Ade is so intense that it frequently lessens the joy I should be feeling for Tarik who is alive. Then too, the deep anguish I feel because I miss Ade often diminishes the genuine thankfulness I should be expressing for the time I still have with Tarik.

I am the mother of a child who is not alive. I am also the mother of a child who is alive. Let there be no doubt about it. I love both of my sons in unique and special ways, but the uncomfortable truth is one of them is dead. That is why it is difficult for me – a grieving mother – to feel immense joy all day long on Mother’s Day, especially since I am torn between feeling joy and happiness for Tarik and grief and anguish for Ade. I am certain that all bereaved mothers who have surviving children live with many of the same confusing contrasts.

The bottom line is that since May 2, 2017, when my firstborn son died, Mother’s Day became a day that is hard for me to enjoy because I live with an emptiness that no one – not even my alive son – can fill. As a result, I more than likely will be sad and unsociable on Mother’s Day. I may even need to be by myself.

Whatever shape my grief takes on Mother’s Day, I don’t want people to lecture me about how I shouldn’t forget just how “lucky” I am to have a son who is alive. Losing a child changed everything for me. In other words, I am a different kind of mother because I am a different kind of normal. Therefore, the people who want to support me on difficult days like Mother’s Day need to understand that supporting me means accepting that I am a grieving mother who will always love and miss her deceased son, as well as will always love her living son and will always be immensely grateful that he is alive.

These Holidays!

20 Wednesday Dec 2017

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These Holidays

 

This is my first Season of Giving, my first Kwanzaa, and my first New Year without my oldest son, Olumuyiwa Ade Keen. He died on May 2, 2017. Not one day has gone by in which I haven’t felt his loss—a loss that constantly feels like the truckload of bricks that were dumped on me are relentlessly crushing me.

Needless to say, Ade’s death changed me. The person I thought I was instantly changed the second he died. Knowing what it means to feel the deepest sadness—the kind that flips a parent inside out—is why I will never be the way I was before I lost my son.

 

I confess. I am not over it.  

I confess. I do not feel better.  

I confess. I am still grieving.

I confess. These holidays aren’t merry for me.

I confess. These holidays aren’t happy for me.

 

These holidays have me thinking about all my loved ones who are no longer living on this Earth. I’m deeply missing all of them. However, it is my son that I miss most of all!

 

I love you, Ade! I miss you, Ade! Happy Holidays to you, my son!

 

OAK - Remembering You With Love . . . Every Single Day!

Families Are Forever: In Loving Memory of Mr. Wash Keen

17 Friday Nov 2017

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WashKeen2

 

Those who mourn are fortunate! for they shall be comforted. ~ Matthew 5:4, TLB

What a wonderful God we have—he is the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the source of every mercy, and the one who so wonderfully comforts and strengthens us in our hardships and trials. And why does he do this? So that when others are troubled, needing our sympathy and encouragement, we can pass on to them this same help and comfort God has given us. You can be sure that the more we undergo sufferings for Christ, the more he will shower us with his comfort and encouragement. ~ 2 Corinthians 1:3-5, TLB

 

The year 2017 has not been particularly kind to me. Between the first week of May and the second week of November, I lost my oldest son and his paternal grandfather. My son died on May 2nd of this year, and his paternal grandfather died on November 15th.

Now, I know plenty people who think that divorced persons are no longer part of that family they married into, and more times than not I have heard about divorced persons being treated like outsiders. However, when the divorced individuals are followers of Christ and when these same divorced individuals have children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren together, these facts mean they still are families. This family truth means even their extended families are still connected to the divorced men and women. 

Case in point, I have nieces and nephews from my ex-spouse’s side of the family who continue to call me Aunt Nadine—even though he and I have been divorced since 1998. Then too, even after the legal dissolution of our marriage and after Maynard’s remarriage, many of his relatives still treat me like family and most of my relatives still treat him like he’s family. My nieces and nephews still call him Uncle Chilly (Maynard’s nickname that I called him during our nearly 27 years of marriage). Furthermore, he and I still share friends who have remained friends with the both of us.  

I said all that to say that in the same year that Maynard and I lost our oldest son, Ade, our youngest son, Tarik, lost his brother. Now, a little over six months later, Maynard lost his dad (Mr. Wash), and our youngest son lost his paternal grandfather. The point here is that Tarik and Maynard’s heartbreaking losses are mine as well. Therefore, even though I am no longer married to his son, Mr. Wash is still family to me. The essential point is that families are forever, and there aren’t any legal divorces that will ever change that fact.

 

Death Leaves A Heartache...

 

Mr. Wash Keen, I know you know that I love you and miss you already.  I miss that beautiful smile of yours. I miss listening to that soothing voice of yours. I miss seeing and hearing you sing in the men’s choir at Moral Hill Missionary Baptist Church. I miss hearing you explain a Sunday School lesson. I miss seeing you meet-and-greet church members and visitors. I miss eating Sunday and holiday meals with you, Miss Helen, me and Maynard’s immediate family, and your other sons and their families. I also miss fellowshipping with everyone in your home, after we all were done eating.  

I have known you since July of 1971.  You were a kind and thoughtful father-in-law. You were a faithful and obedient man of God. You were a loving and caring husband, dad, grandfather, great-grandfather, and great-great-grandfather. You were a hard-working man. You were an outstanding provider for your wife and sons.

You were well-respected by every one of your family members and by countless colleagues and friends. Everybody I know loved you, so I am certain they all do and/or will miss you just as much as I do and will. 

Your God (and mine) has delivered you from your well-used body. Thankfully, we know that to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord. Praise God!

Be sure to say hello to Ade, my son, for me. He is your first grandchild and first grandson! Tell him I love him and miss him, too.  Also say hello to Miss Helen, to my mom (Lucille), to my dad (Clarence), and to so many other people we both know.

I love you, and I miss you dearly, Mr. Wash. I know you know that. I also know you know that I look forward to the day when I can worship throughout eternity our King of kings and Lord of lords with you, and everyone else. Until then, rest in peace, in Jesus’ arms.

I am sending up warm thoughts and prayers for the family. I have been thinking of each of you. I wish I could be there to share in the celebration of Mr. Wash’s life on Monday, November 20th, but it is not possible.

Every blessing family,

Nadine  

 

UPDATE . . .

Obituary: WASH KEEN

AXTON, Va. Wash Keen of 25 Keen Drive passed away on Wednesday, November 15, 2017, at the Hospice Center of Rockingham County, after a lengthy illness.

Funeral services will be held 11 a.m. Monday, November 20, 2017, at Moral Hill Missionary Baptist Church in Martinsville, VA.

Burial will be in the Keen Family Cemetery in Axton, VA.

The family will receive friends from 6 to 7:30 p.m. Sunday, November 19, 2017, at Moral Hill Missionary Baptist Church.

Wash was born on December 8, 1925, to the late Edgar “Edd” Keen Sr. and Nannie Josephine Terry Keen. He was married for 52+ years to the love of his life, Helen Watkins Keen, who preceded him in death. Wash attended the 1 room school in the Sandy Level community. He loved working the land. He farmed several years and raised a garden for as long as he was able. Wash worked for several local industries and retired from the DuPont Co. He also served briefly in the U.S. Army during WWII. Wash was a faithful God-fearing man. He was a no-nonsense hard-working man who loved the Lord and his family.

Wash joined the Moral Hill Missionary Baptist Church under Pastor J.E. Harris. He faithfully served the Lord through his church until his health began to decline. He could be found regularly reading his Bible and studying his Sunday school lesson. He served as an Usher, Sunday School Teacher, Deacon, Chairman of Deacons and member of the Men’s Chorus to name a few.

Wash is survived by his sons: Vernon Wash Keen (Sylvia) of Chesterfield, VA; Maynard Andrew Keen (Sandra) of Greensboro, NC; Rexford Maurice Keen of Martinsville, VA; William Beverly Keen (Jacqueline) and Danny Stewart Keen (Lena) both of Danville, VA; Henry Dillard (Sherideen) of Eden, NC. Also surviving are two brothers Silas Keen (Mae) and King Keen (Rosetta); three sisters in law Memphis Keen, Florence Amos, and Dorothy Martin (George); five brothers in law William H Watkins (Leadell), Windle Watkins (Dinah), Virgil Watkins, Charlie Redd Jr., and Jimmy Carter; also 12 grandchildren, 18 great-grandchildren, and a host of nieces and nephews.

Perry – Spencer Funeral Home, Inc

Raining Nonstop in My Heart

13 Sunday Aug 2017

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Raining In Mt Broken Heart

 

Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be prolonged in the land which the Lord your God gives you. ~ Exodus 20:12, NASB

 

As for the days of our life, they contain seventy years,
Or if due to strength, eighty years,
Yet their pride is but labor and sorrow;
For soon it is gone and we fly away. ~ Psalm 90:10, NASB

 

When Jesus saw the crowds, He went up on the mountain; and after He sat down, His disciples came to Him.  He opened His mouth and began to teach them, saying,

 “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”  ~ Matthew 5:1-3, NASB

 

and He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away. ~ Revelation 21:4, NASB

 

 

 

Human life comes with no magical number—
Threescore years and ten not guaranteed to
Everyone into whom the Breath of Life is breathed
Putting within all living souls an eternal soul
An endless spiritual dimension of humanity.

Yet long-life promise Command is figurative—
At best, most days are long in Promised Lands
But years are far shorter than the psalmist’s seventy
Briefer still for countless parents’ beloved sons
Or daughters they received from Indian Giver:
Grief’s irate criticism of living souls’ Creator.

Heartache cosigns divers pejorative expressions—
Death makes them intensely strange bedfellows;
Thankfully, God’s Love covers a multitude of mindsets
Dead set on using finger pointing to hide the pain
That mentally fighting noxious emotional wounds
Deepen as human nature ignores Spirit’s Healing.

Child-loss pain is without equal, unlike none other—
Uniquely categorized since it betters bereavements’
Other types, triggering rawest ever-conceived anger that
Wages war against the unfairness of it all, hardening
Hearts reluctant to see collateral beauty around them
Uninterrupted by undying love that sets off joy and hope.

Domino effect doesn’t just signify a future disaster—
It illustrates how love that is in the middle of all life
Is hearts’ forever falling domino concurrently connecting
By coupling each toppled one to grief, pain, suffering,
Loss, or varied other ripples, including death, as they
Form rings around unending love’s collateral beauty.

Even so, diabetes monkey wrenched my life—
This pre-existing condition snuffed out
Olumuyiwa’s candle short of my often prayed for
Long-life plan for my eldest son whose
Given name means: ‘God provides this.’

I’m sure Ade, denoting ‘my crown,’ will get his—
For my strong soldier fought the hardest battles;
Still my heart misses its vital piece needed to fix these
Throbbing, flip-flopping, pounding, skipping beat
Irregular rhythms’ agonizingly irksome hiccups.

They’re from regularly reran videos of his life—
He’s infant, teen, adult; optimist then pessimist;
He’s laughing, speaking, leaving, returning, then dying
In my head’s wirelessly streamed detailed scenes
Of jubilation and desolation that wear me down.

Every interlude between reruns baits my fear—
Cruel taunts make me believe I have begun to
Forget the strong-willed, handsome, animated part
Of me that died, living now only in memories
Daydreams summon instantly without delay.

Losing Olumuyiwa unlocked soulish floodgates—
Now it’s heavily raining nonstop in my old heart,
Wet monsoons from an overflowing waterlogged soul;
Life is surreal like I’m imprisoned and dying in
The center of a floating no locks, no bars vast
Airless gravity-defying water designed bubble.

Losing Olumuyiwa aftereffect is canyon in heart—
This too wide to close gap prevents me from ever
Being same person, since grief has no expiration date
Just a myriad of sadness and hopelessness tides
That confirm uncomfortable truth: he’s not here.

 

~ The above poem is from my new poetry manuscript titled Deep-Rooted Disposition.

 

 

~ The above video (MP4 file) is stored on Google Drive. I created and posted this video on July 2, 2017. It is a tribute to my son, Olumuyiwa Ade Keen, who died on May 2, 2017. “Softly at Sunrise” by Gerald Alright is the song that is playing in the background. Olumuyiwa loved this Smooth Jazz song!