(Blue pot) My father Larry loved plants. I got this aloe for him about a month before he passed away. It has enough stems to represent his closest loved ones: me and my boyfriend, my brother and his wife, my three children and my mother. (Green pot) This is “Tamika 2”, the plant I decided to challenge myself to care for because I’m a stone cold murderer of plants and fish.
Where has the time gone to? It’s been almost two weeks, and I feel like I’m still on Saturday February 13th, the morning you earned your wings. Progress has been made. Your cremation process begins today, and it’s all paid for thanks to you. But, somewhere in the last few days, I got stuck on disbelief. It wasn’t difficult to do. Your presence is still very active. It seems like you went on vacation instead of dying. First, a package of medical supplies were delivered two days after you’d gone. They were ordered by Hospice, proving even they didn’t know when your last breath would take place. Next, your grandson has been crankier than cranky. Remember how many times you told me to get him a tablet, and I refused because he’d broken two tablets in less than three months? Your response: “That’s your fault. Get a protective case for it (numbskull)”. My reply: I didn’t want to spoil him because he had two deactivated smart phones that he can download the apps on. You said with finality: “Get Diesel what he needs”. I took advantage of your immobility and didn’t get it. Up until last week, he had nothing computerized to play with. I broke down and got the tablet (with a protective case). He is less cranky now, but fighting a bad cold. He has the same snotty nose that his Uncle Chris did at the same age. I know you’d agree.
I’m trying my best to take care of our plants. Tamika 2 lost a leaf. Mold started to grow on her top layer of soil. I sadly threw away the leaf and turned the soil. She’s doing better, and growing above the top of the pot. I gave it some thought, and it seems logical that if I claim the plant as an extension of myself, I suffered loss, the plant would too. The inspiration is her growth after acknowledging the loss and adjusting (tossed leaf, turned soil). A few days later, your aloe lost two stems. Again, I sadly threw them away and turned the soil. The Holy Spirit reminded me that you had lost two limbs on Earth, and gained two wings in Heaven with full restoration. If I think of that aloe as an extension of you, it’s logical that it loses two stems, but the remaining stems span apart as wings. I suppose one day I’ll think of these as two ordinary plants, but I certainly hope not. (See photos above).
Your cremation plans went smoothly. I know you’d like what we’ve picked out for your urns: Black and gold; your high school colors, and a treble clef for your God gifted voice. I truly appreciate your preparation for this time. It’s made everything very peaceful. My phone hasn’t rang a lot, and the calls I’ve received were genuine. I’d been told the phones are off the hook for our family back in Maryland. I think you’re behind that too somehow because you’ve always said I needed to get more rest. Other thoughts are on my mind. Such as, the timing of your death: relatively the same time as other world class musicians deemed legendary by people, but God decided to take you up the same time as them, giving you the victory and me giving Him the glory. Maurice White passed days before you (a favorite of yours) and Vanity passed away days after you (another one of your favorites). Yeah, the mind can connect unrelated dots, the heart creates coincidences, but only the Holy Spirit can provide confirmation, which He has several times.
Now I am approaching the end of the month, and I have to clean out your apartment. I have help, but going through a deceased loved one’s property is like them dying all over again. What once felt peaceful and light is hardening to sorrow and absolution (I won’t see you again physically). I wish it were the other way around because I feel like I’m digressing instead of progressing. I realize grief is a process of several stages. It must be mourned in order to be comforted. I am okay with that.
With you, your son Tyran (my brother 9-21-78 to 3-8-1992), your father (Bishop John Trammel, SR. 2-14-24 to 7-5-2000), and all of my grandmothers watching over me from above, I truly expect the miraculous and unexpected to take place here on Earth. The Holy Spirit has blessed me with a strong band of angels. There are plenty of other family members crossed over as well. I confidently believe that the heavenly scales of favor have tipped– well, in my favor. ….I had stopped working on this post for my tablet to recharge. During that time, the Lord called on another angel linked to my household. RIP Ronnie Dixon, brotherly cousin of my boyfriend. The heavenly watch is fortified to include my household in entirety. “Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.” (Matthew 5:4 KJV). Bless the Lord.
Dad, I truly cannot thank you enough for preparing us for what’s taken place. It’s one of the greatest lessons a parent can teach their child, who is a parent themselves. Having final wishes in writing and discussions with family made all the difference. I realize the importance of the matter and will handle accordingly, ensuring the future of your grandchildren. Although I can’t thank you in person, I know you feel it. Other family members have told me that you’re utilizing the newly acquired skills of ambiguity, meaning that you’re making your spirit present to
them too and we’re thousands of miles apart. It’s the reward of a believer, everlasting life. It’s the duty of an ultimate guardian angel. You.
Tamika Trammel is an author of two published novels: “18 Years of Grace and Mercy, A Teenage Mother’s Testimony, Vol. 1” and “The Pusher, the Prostitute and a Preacher”. Both available for purchase online http://www.TamikaTrammel.com or any book retailer. In eBook and soft cover. Purchase in lieu of bereavement donations will be most helpful.