(Poem)
She’s a Mother’s Mother who mother’s her child’s child
By brushing away the tears
And bringing forth a smile
A Mother’s love is full and flows in abundant ways
But a Mother’s Mother rushes in, in the ways a mother can’t, to save the day
Her table is complete with homemade ingredients
She works her fingers through and through, prepping meals that are heaven sent
My mother was a provider, her mother a nurturer
They both created me to break the generational curse barriers
Your mother may not have been the one to cradle you in loving arms
But rest assured, there are other mothers just waiting to take you on
The spiritual mothers are the best because they stand strongly in the gap
They don’t have to be your blood, they can just be a needed lap
You can spread across their thighs and let the tears come crumbling out
They won’t judge you for your weakness
They themselves have floundered about
They’ve missed the mark and fallen at times due to a lack of knowledge,
or simply a confused mind
But that’s the beauty in legacy, because what they couldn’t, we now do
And they do it through us and with us
So they get to do it too
This poem was inspired by the passing of my dear friend Dianne Palmer. For nearly two decades I have been the by-product of community. You’ll hear me talk about that a lot on this little blog because it makes up so much of my spiritual journey. At college I had an encounter with God that changed my life forever and the beauty was that I was surrounded by a group of young men and women who had the same spiritual experience.
Then after college, I joined a small fellowship that was being led out of a traditional church structure. Dianne was one of the women who was a part of that group. We went on to merge with another group who were being led by my now pastors. Dianne and I were the remnants of the old group merging with the new.
Over the years Dianne was a silent intercessor for me and sometimes not so silent (LOL). She sent me emails, texts, and often gave me encouraging words. I knew that even if I did not see her physically, she was there spiritually. Always praying and rooting for me.
She reminds me so much of my own grandmother. This strong Black woman, carrying the load for her family and being the glue that holds all things together. The relationships she has with her grandchildren reminds me so much of my own with my grandmother. I know this experience of “the Grandmother being the rock” is shared by many in the Black community. I had a conversation yesterday with a fellow author and blog reader and she shared about her own close relationships with her grandmother, and great-grandmother.
I thank the Father for the role of a mother in our lives and that even when our own mothers are not manifesting what He has called the role of a mother to be, there are other mothers who will step in.
Dianne is one of those who stepped in for me.
God is faithful because I had not seen her in so long. Due to the pandemic, we hadn’t been gathering physically so it had been at least a year since I last saw her. But I had the pleasure of seeing her at a meet-up for The Woman King movie only a few days before her passing. As soon as she saw me her eyes lit up and welled with tears. “It’s you!” she cried, and it was at that moment I realized it had been a very long time since we had seen each other. I replied with a smile, “Yes, it’s me!” I knew her love for me. I knew how much she cared and she went on to say that she needed to talk to me. I told her to reach out. Unfortunately, though she didn’t have time to, and we did not have that conversation, I am grateful for the 17 years of conversations. And I am especially grateful for the picture we all took that a dear friend initiated that night.
Dianne hated pictures and it was a miracle that she agreed to be in that one. Even that night, she was fighting against being seen. She didn’t want to be seen, but we made her be seen. And it is even more meaningful to me that she is right there, by my side, where I know she is eternally.
One testimony that stood out to me regarding the importance of Grandmothers is Helen Bailey’s Testimony, Praying Grandmother. If you’re not familiar, I highly recommend listening to it. It gets me every time.
We honor you Dianne Palmer. Job well done.
P.S, Happy Birthday Mom. Always celebrating you…
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SHALOM
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