To a Queen: Viva Forever
Reading time: 2 minutes
Image description: text reads “grief is love with no place to go until you find a place for it to belong” Quote by Jocelyn McQuirter
Ever watch the sunrise and imagine the ancestors blessing your day? See that light in the distance? The landscape, coated in pink, yellow, and orange hues.
I wonder if that’s a message of warmth. I wonder if that’s joy. I wonder if somewhere in that light, my ancestors are offering me a gift for my day. Perhaps something more golden than I can imagine.
Two of my loved ones took their sunsets (at least in body) recently. I’m especially grieving a close cousin; she was 35-years-young, my senior. Just 5 months apart, family would always get our names mixed up, saying “Jas, Joce, Joce, Jas…'' ending with some fluster of “you know what I mean.”
This was someone I thought we’d raise our kids and grow dusty old together. Yet, time, God, the higher powers, the universe had other plans. I’m holding tight the many moments we had with Whitney Houston heavy karaoke, endless girl talk, our first concert; TLC when Destiny’s Child was the opener. Most of all, it was the countless moments of loving and living life. We did a lot together. We also did a lot apart. The love remained the same.
I’ve talked about grief before including lost relationships and pandemic related. I’ve even talked about the grief that can come from Black motherhood. This time around I knew it’d be another hard one. I’m thankful to Jasmine’s mother who asked me to share some words at the homegoing services. I won't recite them, but one thing I did say was Jasmine lived fearlessly. She walked like 10,000 ancestors were behind her because they were. Her heart was big. Too big for this world.
Photo of a sunset across a Chicago highway. Taken after my grandfather’s homegoing services in early November.
No words can bring her back. No clock can rewind time. My peace is knowing that right now she’s dancing and breaking bread with the ancestors. I’m at peace knowing she’s not in pain anymore.
This grief I’m moving through is part of her lasting legacy. It’s my duty to find places for this wandering love to belong. Jasmine’s fight with cancer was a reminder for us all. To simply live bigger and bolder. To go at it even when we’re afraid. To undyingly live with purpose and with love at the core.
So, I promised Jasmine a few weeks before she took her last breath that I’d write some books dedicated to her. That I’d continue to live with purpose and to surrender to what life is trying to show me. It was a promise that I’ll continue to pave the way; set footprints in the sand for others to experience less turbulence and have a lighter path forward.
Love you times infinity Jasmine. Rest in power.
Always Queen, always.
(April 1987 - November 2022)
What’s giving me light:
Music. It’s a healer. Especially the last song we listened to together: Viva Forever by Spice Girls
Community. It’s been a season of giving, asking, and receiving support. Thank you.
A tribute reel I made in Jasmine’s honor. The memories are great.
Finding space to process, cry, and truly feel what I need to.
Sunsets and sunrises. Something to count on.