I guess they used to call them wakes. We went to the funeral home yesterday and camped out there for several hours. I had been dreading it, and didn’t think I could do it. In fact, Curtis and I had planned to leave after an hour and come back for the last hour. We ended up almost an hour late, and then stayed until the end.

Yanni surprised us by wanting to come. Poor thing couldn’t take seeing her grandmother lying there in a coffin. She just cried, and then was embarassed about it. Curtis took her out in the lobby and comforted her. Yanni pulled herself together, and was able to handle the rest of the evening.

Truth be told, I avoided a close view of the coffin myself for quite some time. Daddy sat right up front, though. He was very somber at first, but grew more and more animated as more people began to arrive. Mommy’s friends and associates from all walks of life came to pay their respects.

And there was family! I don’t know if I can keep track of who all was there. Of course, there was Fellah, Mommy’s brother, also very somber. Aunt Florence and Karl were there. Zo and Felisha had beat us there from outside Detroit. Mommy’s first cousins, Tona and Toby came together. Tona is still beautiful, even with white hair. This was my very first time meeting Toby, even though he lives in Detroit. He is in the music business, and he gave me his card.

Jerri came in with a baby I hadn’t seen before. I looked at him, and I thought, that’s not Jadin, her grandson! Finally I asked her who the baby was, and she said, “that’s your cousin, Lawrence.” That meant Lew and Deie were there! Lawrence is Uncle Lonnie and Aunt Liz’s first grandchild, and he is adorable! So friendly, and he took to Yanni right away. Langston, Leona, Maizie, Uncle James, Lillian and Richard, so many family members came to mourn with us.

And there were so many friends there, also. I was surprised to see two people I recognized from the Y there. One was a woman that works out with me in Tanicia’s class sometimes; she bowls with Daddy! Another was a neighbor from across the alley. I had seen his picture as the spinning teacher at the Y. He told me there’s a bike with my name on it in his class.

George and Judy Wade, the family’s oldest friends in Kalamazoo were there, just as they’d been there the night Mommy died, helping to get the new out. George sold my parents their house back in 1975, and has continued to associate with him to this day.

I saw Daneen and her whole family early on. I was so touched they’d come to support me, never having met Mommy. Mrs. Lett, and Mrs. Brown came, and I saw Pam for the first time in months.

Chris and Annette came with Julie, and I showed them pictures and introduced them to family. Kwame came straight from work, and I introduced him to Karl, and they hit it off right away. Mel and Michael came to support Curtis. I was glad to see Bill Wood come to pay his respects as well.

There were faces from Allen Chapel: Merdis, the Stuarts, the Turners, the Charles’, Verna Brown, and other people I recognized but didn’t know their names. I saw Clarence and later his twin sister, Clara, and her daughter. I saw Romeo Phillips, although I didn’t get a chance to talk to him.

We walked in with Bob Jones, our former mayor, now running for state representative. I also Moses and Ruthie Walker, Sid Williams, Charles and Janet Bacon, too many people to name, and I’m steady trying to name them all. I saw Carol Greene, and when Dr. and Mrs. Hudson walked in, he asked me if I was still swimming. (We’d met at the swimming pool one day). It was so good to see so many faces.

Jenny Hessler reintroduced herself. I’d been in the Jr. Symphony with her children, and she’d been in Log Cabin Quilters and The Weaver’s Guild with Mommy. I met several Log Cabin Quilters. One woman from the miniature group came over and asked, “Which one of you is Ionia?” I knew she meant Yanni, and she said she had remembered her from miniatures with her grandmother several years ago.

I had heard that the Jacob’s, our neighbors, and colleagues of Mommy’s, had moved. They came to pay their respects. Ben Wilson, who worked with Daddy 27 years, was there, along with Patti DeLoche, the secretary for Black Studies. Don Cooney, whose office was across the hall from Mommy’s for 15 years, was there as well.

So many connections. I was talking to my Aunts, Florence and Liz, when Sarah Douglas came over. I was trying to recognize her face, when she just introduced herself. We’d taken piano lessons from Mrs. Friedmann together. I hadn’t seen her in years! She said she had read about Mommy in the paper, and had to come and see us. I was so touched.

Mrs. Urban, (Mommy and Daddy’s neighbor for 30 years–see AlleyKids), came over and told me not to hesitate to call and ask for help with anything. Even some of our neighbors came: Mark and Denise, with their daughter, Laura. Mark is on the faculty at WMU; I don’t know whether he knew Mommy from there or not. Laura was one of my Girl Scouts years ago.

I ran over to hug Kim when she and Zeke arrived. She told me she was so sorry about Mommy, and to call her if she could do anything. I thanked her for what she’s already doing for Zeke. He was visibly moved when he saw Mommy, and Kim escorted him outside for a little while.

Mrs. Seabolt, (from the book club) was there, quietly looking at pictures, and she gave me a warm hug. I later saw Sheila Miles and her husband, and she told me to call on the Saturday Eves for anything. That’s Mommy’s book club, and I am technically in it, too, but I haven’t been to a meeting in years. I also saw Rida Jones, from the book club. It was good to see her. I was glad to have Yanni there, to show her off. I had mixed feelings about not having the other children there. I like to brag on them, and show them off, but I didn’t think that was the right place for them.

I cried when I saw Elliot, one of the managers of Theo and Stacy’s, Mommy’s favorite restaurant, arrive. He told me my mother was a wonderful person, and he left a donation for her favorite charity. Then, later, I was very touched to see Stacy, the owner, and her sister Tessa, (Elliot’s wife). They had obviously come from the restaurant, and they were both crying, and offering condolensces. They expressed love for Mommy and our family. You never know how you touch people in life.

When I finally screwed up the courage to look at Mommy, I was surprised to see how flat her stomach looked. Her hands were shapely in the gloves, which I hadn’t really wanted her to wear, but Mr. Harper at the funeral home said she needed. Her lips were tight, not at all smiling. It looked like they were pursed, almost. I know they had searched for a natural tone of lipstick, and her lips were a good, neutral tone. Her hair looked beautiful, and the lace jacket that Jerri had picked out looked very nice. I was later able to take Yanni to see the body up close, and she cried again. I don’t know how I managed to be so detached. I will probably feel the impact much later.

Sherese was the last person to leave. She knows a lot about grief, having buried her oldest child five years ago. I know she is there for the short term and the long term, and I am grateful. I was able to tell her who was in the pictures, and she offered to help with the children, who were at Miriam’s house. I had to call and see if I could extend the time they were there, because Daddy wanted to take everyone out to Stir Max. (sigh) Again.

The family alone took up three tables at Stir Max! Uncles Steve and Dick met us there. I’d heard they had made it to the driveway of Daddy’s house about the time the visitation was over, so Daddy directed them to the restaurant. When I got my coat, I saw I had two messages on my phone. Wilbur Lewis, an Ohio cousin, was in town, at the hotel. So, we’ll probably see much more family at the funeral.

I hadn’t planned on regurgitating every single person I saw at the place. I was just so happy to see so many people. Pam told me, “I’ts sad your mother died. I know you were very close. Now, maybe you can visit other people.” I got a laugh out of that. I know what she means. It is bittersweet that it takes a funeral to bring so many people together. Of course, we make promises to stay in touch, but it won’t happen unless we take action. I sense a movement. . .