A Challenging Week

My mother, Gel Routt, in the last photo of us together. We took her out for her birthday.

The title of this post belies the emotion beneath. Last Friday I lost my mother to the angels. The coroner ruled that she succumbed to years of heart ailments and high blood pressure and finally she entered the rest she spent a lifetime earning.

The homecoming ceremony celebrated her life on Thursday with friends and family filling the sanctuary at West End Baptist Church. People went out of their way to mention to my brothers and sisters and myself just how much my mother lived for us. We knew that because mama didn’t make it a secret but hearing it served the purpose of comfort.

Mixed with the grief and the retelling the of my mother’s death to perfect strangers who don’t care because their main occupation involves getting money whether without consideration that the person is dead (another story entirely), we celebrated my niece’s birthday.

Kira, the birthday girl, with her orange peel mouthpiece

Calling it bittersweet defines understatement, but the company of Kira, her sister Alana and her niece Sania helped put half smiles on our faces. The gallery of pictures illustrates how they showed us, without knowing they were, that life goes on. Mama would have had a great time with them.

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