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Life, Death and Amaretto

My Palo birthday, grandmother’s transition and anniversary of my sister/friend’s passing are all within a 30 day timeframe.  My mind has dwelled somewhere between gratitude and grief the past couple of days and the only things that have truly interested me are incense making, baking and planning my next trip.

While in the throws of reflection, prayer (aka incense making) I called out both my grandmother and sister/friend’s names; Rosie and Beatrice.  I fussed out loud to Ogun about the things beyond my control, cried about the realities of not having physical access to my loved ones any longer in this life and complained bitterly about the unjust lies, betrayals from former friends/colleagues and inconsiderate clients that dared called me on the day of my grandmother’s funeral.

My prayers are in part praise, casual conversation, Q & A’s, bitch sessions and thanksgiving. In my mind I like to picture my egun, Orisha and Mpungo sitting at my dining room table with a slice of cake and coffee, watching me with semi-amused expressions, the way my grandma would do when I would come over to her house to show her something new or lament, waiting for me to pause long enough so that they could interject and impart some much needed wisdom to me, their child.

Somewhere in the middle of my conversation with Ogun, my phone vibrated indicating that I had a new text message. I was set to ignore the message but felt that I should read the message immediately.  What I saw shocked me, it was a message that I sent to my sister/friend Beatrice right before she passed away telling her that I was praying for a miracle.  This message was sent on April 23, 2018 and here it is April 1, 2019 and the message I sent came back to me as undeliverable.  I stood stunned for a nanosecond because right after that, a former god-sibling called to apologize to me for their role in things done to smear my name, business and work done against me at the request of my former godfather.  The way my spiritual life is set up… things happen.

I listened to the caller, re-read the text, listened to the confession and re-read the text again.  At the end of the conversation, I thanked said god-sibling, told them that I am happy that they found the strength to stand up and on the truth. I hung up the phone and then I cried.

Cried because my gramma is gone from this world, cried for Beatrice because during her final days she was too weak to do so herself, lying in a hospital bed knowing she was dying while her lover was off with another woman, cried because I can’t legally get away with punching mofos in their lying mouths.  I cried that soul cleansing ugly cry and then I remembered a conversation I had with an Iyanifa friend of mine about how rich I am because I am not poor in spirit.

That’s when I looked at my dining room table and saw them once again in my mind’s eye telling me not to worry, Orun sees all and nothing is unbalanced in this life.  The lessons of this past year came fully to the forefront as I washed my tear stained face and prepared to walk to the liquor store for some amaretto because a lady needed a drink.

Of the many lessons that I have learned over the past year, two in particular, stood out as I went on my walk to purchase personal libations.  The first lesson is there are a great deal of many unjust things that we will see and experience during our times lifetimes, it is how we respond to the challenges that come from the littlest of slights to the biggest of offenses that will define our character. While it is easy to go on a tear against a real or perceived enemy it is difficult to maintain iwa pele while trying to keep your head up while he or she attempts to undermine your life.  Living the principles of Ifa is what nets true results and brings long term, consistent and sustainable blessings. No need to fake or put on airs when life is divinely ordered.  My life is not without ups and downs but it is divinely ordered and I see the results every day.  The second lesson that stands out is to bring my troubles to my egun, Orisha and Mpungo. Doing this has helped me to see and think things through clearly.  It is through Spirit that I have learned that when I move in the ways that they show, nothing stands in my way and all that I need is at my disposal, including confessions.

I also learned a third and an important lesson that night, don’t forget to get egun their own bottle when doing a libation run.  The bag with my precious amaretto slipped out of my hands and broke right at the front door. For a nano second I was about to fuss and then I remembered that these folks of mine on the other side and throughout the multiverse hold me down in ways that I can’t even begin to describe or know about so I must always give them their due!  Instead of going into the house, I turned on the hose, got the outside broom and started singing an egun song.  Before long my uber Christian neighbor was peeking out of her window and I was crying again.  This time my tears were filled with the knowledge that Gramma and Bea are alright and, they were, are and will forever be remembered and shown favor in the heavens.  I cried tears of thanks because once again Ogun said, daughter stop worrying and complaining, everything is going to be alright.

For this I am grateful.

Gramma, Bea I’ll keep a light on for you two and put out some cake.

 

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