Dealing with death, friends, etc...

On July 9th of this year I lost my mother in a road accident. Right before this happened I took part in a play about Billie Holiday, playing pianist Jimmy Powers in Lady Day At Emerson's Bar & Grill. This was the first time since elementary school that I was involved in an acting performance, and although I had to get used to the heavy rehearsals, the result was a very enriching experience. This took place throughout the latter part of June.

The weird thing about this was that Lady Day At Emerson's Bar & Grill took place at Sycamore Square in Petersburg, and I had to drive back and forth daily for the rehearsals for a while (and three times a week while the play was going on.) Because of this, the Ford Explorer that I was used to driving all the time wasn't going to cut it based on the wear-and-tear of it. I drove this around when I had local gigs, but I would drive my mother's Ford Escape when I had to go out of town. So I ended up driving the Escape while Ma took the Explorer.

The play lasted right until the end of June, and I was planning to rest for a couple of weeks before attempting to work on other projects. I was blessed to have a mother who appreciated the hard and mindful work I put into things because she understood that I valued my happiness, which includes (but is not limited to) happiness for self , for close family and friends, and others that I may directly or indirectly make a positive impact on. On that particular night, as Ma left to go to the grocery store, we had a brief but mindful conversation about what she was going to buy. We said goodbye to each other, and she left the house.

About an hour later I hear a knock on the door. Thinking that it was Ma (she usually would knock if she had a lot of grocery bags), I opened the door only to see two unfamiliar faces asking to come in to speak to me. They said that they were from the Richmond Sheriff's Office and I told them that my mother worked there. They mentioned that they knew that and wanted to speak with me. I told them to wait a second and ran upstairs to call Ma on her cellphone. It was no answer, so I started to prepare for the worst.

And prepare for the worst I did. Next thing I knew I was in a state of no emotion. No sadness because of the initial shock, no anger towards the responsible party who eyewitnesses said was totally responsible for speeding through that red light, nothing. At my age I began to value the lives of those that I'm close to and would cherish their presence in my life because physical lives could be lost at any moment. And for the very first time someone that had an extremely huge presence in my life was gone.

Now it's December, a month full of holidays and my birthday. This was the first time that I celebrated Christmas and my birthday without my mother being physically present. I'm still grieving, and I was told that the grieving will never go away and it's never constant. The euphoria of knowing that my mother is in a better place looking at me carry on with my life contrasts with me constantly reliving the night of July 9 all over again. Many people commend me for being stronger than they could ever be if they had to face the unexpected passing of a loved one, and I appreciate all the condolences and words of inspiration.

The result of my grieving is that I'm now even more passionate about what matters to me in life. That includes being more mindful in living each second in the moment, expanding my music career, and deeply connecting with current friends and family. I still have to understand that some of my closest friends haven't really had the experience of losing of a loved one, and sometimes I would mistake their naivete for being cold and distant. Being mindful and open at the same time is easier said than done, and the truth is that many folks have an extremely hard time being empathic with an experience that they never had to face. It's just about me keeping my calmness and understanding of the other person's views, shortcomings, and etc. We are all human who live and learn.

Maybe I'm a lone wolf when it comes to trying to be way more open than I ever was, but as long as I stay mindful on everything I do, I'll walk that path.