No Casseroles

As we grow older and become updated figments of our parents, we often reflect on the many conversations or either those catechism that our elder nuturers have shared with us over the years. These nuggets of wisdom and muster usually are deflected by us as we find our way to maturity, yet one that sticks in my mind and constantly haunts me, is from my mother who always states," as sure as we live, we all gotta die." This breif statement rooted in her overall embracing of religion, not only rings ture, but has provided my with some comforting relief despite it's ominous meaning. With each death in our family we have been surrounded by the outpouring of services, goods and most of all food. All these wonderful breads, beverages and other comfort foods, are a common display of condolences from your community. I witnessed many friends, neighbors, and strangers alike offering there contributions of eggs, juices, hams and other covered dishes. Traditionally in the Black community, funerals although a sad occasion, are treated as a unique "home going" for the deceased and a celebration of fellowship with those commemorating their life. My recent lost of my youngest brother was reinforced with this showering of concern and respect for the love ones who were left behind. But, as I stood amidst all this warmth and endearing atmosphere, I couldn't help but feel some contempt and an uneasiness that perhaps I hadn't developed binding relationships to have personal friends who seemed moved to respond. Looking around the various deliveries, I had hoped to find some notes from people I knew, but I found no care packages, no cakes and most of all, no casseroles. In the subsequent weeks, my thought patterns hearkened back when I lost my lifemate in 1995. Despite my stern demeanor then and now, I've analyzed that those strong ties and friendships that I thought I once had, have all but become surface memories and occurrences of times past. Our tiny apartment we shared, once hosted many with our brand of hospitality, but was a hub of silence prior to the funeral and certainly afterwards. I didn't experience the same warmth and love that all these years later I'm seeing being directed to my immediate family. Cultivating and neutering relationships are a necessity in human contact, especially when celebrating a home going. I have to assume my responsibility in keeping contacts alive and making efforts to stay in touch. Over the years, some have perceived me to be aloof and distant. I stand guilty, but life has a way of forcing change in a person and I have been in a constant exploration of my purpose as well as my legacy to the world. Nevertheless, today's society is so fraught with individuals who are caught up in "keeping up appearances," that often we are repelled at peeling away the many mask that approach us daily. Forging careers and ultimately finding a lifemate is paramount,but rediscovering old friends and making new ones must be apart of that strategy. Just as my mother's adage reaffirms, I have to add, even though "we all must die", I hope that I ultimately don't do it without some true friends. Feel the need to reach out and touch at Nealix101@comcast.net