I like to take it to swim practice, so I have something to read while the big kids swim, and the little kids run around the gym.

I had already read the cover story, about Angela Bassett and Courtney Vance becoming the first-time parents of twins. I was disappointed that there were no pictures of the babies, but I respect their decision to not include those now.

The article that really caught my attention the other night was called “Tipping the Scales of Weight Loss Surgery.” Red flags went up everywhere. I thought somewhere I read the title, “is weight loss surgery for you?” I don’t know where that came from. The actual title was nowhere near as crass, but the spirit of the article–now that’s another thing.

I can’t help but make a correlation between ceasarian sections and weight loss surgery. Surgery is more invasive than traditional childbirth/weight loss. Surgery is more expensive than traditional childbirth/weight loss. Surgery is more easily scheduled than the natural alternative. The comparisons go on.

This age will go down in history as primitive and barbaric, where drastic invasive measures are taken to solve commonplace problems.

Last month, Ebony did the feature, “Lighten Up,” where they mention drinking water and moving to lose weight. ( I commented on that article in water and walking.)
This month, it’s this piece on surgical weight loss. What’s next? “Wiring your jaw shut will keep the pounds away,” or “Doctors find a way to medically monitor bulimia?”

That’s right. Create this culture of hopelessness, and then come riding in with the drastic solution of the day: surgery!

The Ebony article follows people with medical issues either in their families or their own lives, and how they have improved through surgery. Jesse Jackson jr. had surgery to correct his weight problems that caused sleep apnea. My jaw dropped.

Ma had had problems with breathing at night; My friend Fara had such bad apnea that she had to have surgery. But she and her husband and children are overweight. I didn’t know that apnea is associated with heart attack, stroke and high blood pressure.

Singer Patti Austin has had weight loss success from bariatric surgery. She says in the article that if you are obese and not ill, don’t take that for granted–it’s coming. I remember Eursla, my co Girls Scout leader had said years ago that the only thing she had going for her health-wise was her youth. Then, at 29, she was diagnosed with diabetes. That was a wake-up call. She lost a lot of weight behind that, and was nearly unrecognizable.

Ever hear of The Biggest Loser? I love that TV show. The first time I tuned it in last season, I saw someone I knew from UM. I met Pete through my junior year roommate, Andi. He was 6’5” and around 300 pounds then–definitely a big guy anyway, and he was on the fat side. By the time he got on The Biggest Loser, Pete was 400 pounds. He and his wife were unable to have children, and he recognized that the extra weight was killing him.

This show unmasks the deception that overweight people can’t exercise. The trainers on The Biggest Loser had these people running, lifting weights, climbing mountains, stair machines, you name it–for hours a day! The trainers also showed the contestants how to eat properly. They were tested with food challenges, as well as physical challenges every week.

Pete lost significant weight every week, and was eventually voted off because he threatened to win the show–by becoming the biggest loser. In the finale, Pete had lost more than 180 pounds, and in actuality was the biggest loser–just not the winner. He did win the also-ran top prize of $100,000.00, though, and praised God on TV.

Pete was unrecognizable at his new weight. Now you can see that he’s tall, and he’s back playing basketball again, something he loved doing in college–and he’s smaller now than he was then!

Suzy, one of the three finalists, said, when they started running, “You can’t make us run like this! Don’t you know we’re fat people?” That’s the kind of myth we need to de-bunk. Fat people can lose weight the same way that thin people can stay thin–by eating right and exercising hard.

Mother: Oh! Is that bag full of neckbones?

No, but I found this bag that had chocolate chips in it so I brought it up. Now, there’s these two big packages of pork neckbones,

These are really old. . .
And here’s that other beef neckbone . . .
About the same age as these.
Really? I thought it was the one we didn’t use last time. . .
. . . September 1995!
Dang! I’ll look up here, it’s got to be in there somewhere.
Angela goes and digs in the upstairs freezer
Here it is! No, never mind. . .
Yes, that’s it, give me those rib tips
You want ribs? That’s the thing I was talking about never mind.
Yes, those will do just fine. Ma sits at the kitchen table and looks at the meat.
Oh dear, these have been in long enough to have that terrible freezer smell. . . these smell just right. I’ll have to cook these in one pot and the rancid meat in another pot.
Rancid?
I can cook the meat til it thaws, and then pull off the fat. That’s what traps the rancid smell.
Rancid smell? Is there anyway we can avoid the rancid smell?
Well, I’m going to do everything I can to avoid it, honey. . . It’s a good thing we’re not religious. . .
Why do you say that, because you’re mixing beef and pork?
Yes.
But a rancid smell? That sounds so appetizing!
Ma starts getting pots and water together. She puts the fresher meat in a large pot, and the rancid meat in another pot. Then she smells the beef neckbone.
Oh, damn! This one has a rancid smell, too.
Well, you better put it in the rancid pot! We don’t want to mix the rancid meat with the non-rancid meat.
Ma laughs. Yani comes in the kitchen. Can I have some milk? Ooh! What’s that stinky smell?
That’s just the rancid meat Grammy’s cooking for dinner, sweetie. Angela pours the milk and racks her brain for what to prepare for everybody else.

All I saw when she watched the original series was a bunch of tight clothes and bad make-up. People would talk pretentiously about how primitive it was in the 20th century, etc. Meanwhile, everyone was flirting with each other, even when they pretended to be intellectual. It drove me nuts!

But Mommy saw utopia on the TV. She saw a world where everybody could get along, love each other, and war was abolished.

Maybe I do get it.

I remember when Janet Jackson came out with her Rhythm Nation CD. I was so excited about her video, where all these ‘soldiers’ broke it down in synchronized dance moves. Curtis used to tease me about wanting a rhythm nation, where everybody would forget their strife, and just dance together. Star Trek was that for Mommy.

She watched every episode innumerable times. She bought and read all the books. She even subjected us to some horrible Vulcan dessert. It had raisins. It think it was a rice pudding. With carrots, maybe?

Mommy used to write papers on social work in the Star Trek universe. She’d give presentations at the Pop Culture Institute’s conventions. I remember going to one of those conventions in New Orleans. Most of the audience sat enraptured with her insight, but there’d always be one or two skeptics who wondered why she took Star Trek so seriously. Even though I didn’t understand that either, I thought that someone who’d take the time to listen to her paper should have the respect to appreciate it.

Although the Social Work faculty at WMU didn’t respect the Star Trek papers, Mommy’s research caught someone’s attention. She had an entry in the official Star Trek encyclopedia. She was so thrilled to be included, and they sent a free copy of the book. I even got a kick out of reading her entry. Durned if I understood what it was talking about, though.

Then, I met Curtis. He also liked Star Trek, especially The Next Generation. I actually ended up having to watch the entire series with him.

When I was in labor with Esteban, Curtis watched the last season of Enterprise on the Replay.

Mommy made Curtis a Warf suit to wear to the office one Halloween. The costume is still in our closet. Curtis never worked up the nerve to wear it. Maybe Xay can, some day. Curtis and Mommy even went to a Star Trek convention together, before we were married.

I think Mommy actually conceded that there were more hard-core fans than she. She probably agreed with Shatner, who once said, “It was just a television show. Get over it!”

But, she still wrote the papers, made a quilt, and has typed an in-depth explanation of her quilt. We always had to observe reverential silence when the original series was on.

I just didn’t get it. But I don’t think my kids understand that rhythm nation. . .

Well, all the flowers were there, and I know what a coffin spray is. The one daddy picked out, with pink and yellow carnations, was very pretty. There were lots of flowers as well, including some sent by Gloria, for Daddy, Zeke, and me.

I woke up on Saturday morning with a sense of doom regarding the limousine. I thought, let me check my notes to see when it’s coming, and how many cars. Sure enough, we were down for one car, to come at 10:30, even thought the fmaily hour was to start at 10:30. I wondered why they called it a family hour, when it was only a half hour. The funeral was scheduled for 11. This discrepency really bothered me, but I didn’t say anything about it. I know I can be pretty hidebound and rigid about stuff like that. Curtis calls it sphincty.

So, anyway, I called Mr. Harper at the funeral home to find out how many cars were coming by. He said we were scheduled for one car to go to both Daddy’s house and mine. I asked how many people could fit in the car, and he said 8. He said they had another car they could send by to pick us up that rode 5, so I should call Daddy and find out how many were riding in the limo, and then call Mr. Harper back if I needed the extra car. He had told me that the other car was only available to take us to the church; we were on our own to get to the cemetery.

I called Daddy, and he said that he had Zeke and Kim, Fellah, Aunt Florence, Jerri and himself were riding in the limo. That was 5 people, and I needed room for 4. He told me to go ahead and get the extra car, and we’d find a way to the cemetery.

When I called Mr. Harper back, his son answered the phone. I had been in YPD and the Inspirational Choir with him back at Allen Chapel, and I always knew him as Bobby. I also know that as an adult, he likes to be called Rob. So I was all, “Hi, Bobby, I mean, Rob.” And he told me that his father was gone, but he’d leave him a message to call me back.

So, I’m all stressed out, thinking we wouldn’t get the car, etc., when Mr. Harper called me back shortly, and we arranged for the car. Then, he called me back again to say that Daddy wanted to be picked up sooner than 10:30, and we should be ready.

I, being a master prioritizer, had spent the morning pressing Mani’s hair. Yanni had been running around getting costumes together for the little children, even to the point of pulling out the sewing machine to whip up something for Joy! (We had decided to send them all to Annette’s house for Lavender’s birthday party, and then to Kevin’s house until the funeral was over).

So, when we got the little girls and Esteban all ready to go, we scrambled to get ourselves ready. Xay’s new shirt needed ironing; Yanni’s dress looked big, which caused a mild panic, until we decided it was ok. I had to decide on either a blouse and skirt or a dress. Yanni prefered the dress, Curtis the blouse and skirt, so I went with that. I decided I’d rather wear the rose bead necklace Mommy made, rather than the amethyst one. Yanni liked the amethyst one, so she wore it. We had to find shoes for Yanni; she wore my velvet heels, and she and I had hair to style. Curtis did the ironing, as usual, and pulled out his black suit.

Dina, also from YPD, Inspirational choir, and the funeral home, called several times for directions. The driver had gone to Grand Prairie instead of Grand Pre. It’s an honest mistake, but there is no house on Grand Prairie with our number, so it really throws people off. I directed her to the house, and we were able to get ready in the time it took the driver to find us.

Chris Stewart had come earlier and took all the little children away, Esteban wearing a bunny suit for a coat.

The car that came for us was a Cadillac. The children were disappointed that it wasn’t a limo, but it was a nice car. We directed the driver to the church by the back way, and he knew where he was once we hit Alamo. We got to the church right at 10:30.

I had expected we’d be quietly sitting in a room with the family, just reflecting on Mommy during the ‘family hour.’ Instead, we stood up in the narthex (lobby) of the church and talked. The quilts we’d picked out were beautifully displayed, and the picture boards that Aunt Florence and Jerri and Aunt Liz had put together were also on display. It was nice. I saw many of the Saturday Eves’ there, and I gave and received many hugs. The Saturday Eves’ are a book club. Mommy had been in the club for most of its 30 + year existence. She is their third member to die.

Several of Mommy’s Log Cabin Quilters came up and told me how much I looked like her, etc. Fellah was waiting for Eva to come; she had been too sick to ride over in the limo. She gets nauseous when she travels long distances and she was already tired to start with.

When it came time for the family to walk in the procession, there was a great scrambling to line up correctly. We were to stand behind daddy, no, Tona and Toby. We got Tona, and she left to find Toby, which disturbed Daddy. I cringed at the disorganization of it all. I guess you don’t have a rehearsal with a funeral. . . Fellah was supposed to be near the front of the procession, but he insisted on waiting for Eva. . . Yanni and Xay opted against being near the front, and stayed with Devon, Duan, Daniel and David. Zeke, Kim, and Jerri were behind Curtis and me in the end. I started crying at the thought of looking at the body again, and Daddy started crying to see me cry; it started a chain reaction.

The Praise Team came out, and they started singing one of my favorites, “Praise Him.” Curtis and I were humbled by who came to sing at Mommy’s funeral: Anissa, Tammy M., Myron, Claudia, Tammy S., Diane, and Charlene was the leader. Several of these people were former students of Daddy. They just kept singing, as we walked up, two by two, just weeping. Tona kissed the body again; I just couldn’t do that.

I really cried hard when Zeke walked up there. He was really crying, and Kim was holding him up. When we sat down, Zeke and Kim and Jerri ended up sitting behind us. I felt someone wiping my tears. I thought it was Kim, but it was Jerri.

Family streamed in. I saw Chicago family I hadn’t seen yet: Lewis, Merlon, Jean, Annette, Sammi, and Jean’s grandson, Rod. I saw Ohio family: Wilbur, Odetta, Joyce, Gloria, Irma, Jeffrica, Velma and James, plus Lillian and Richard, who had been at the visitation. So many faces came by, even Arkansas family: Bonnie, Irish, Corine, Frankie. I was so touched, and most of them came by to hug me.

Michael, Stephanie’s husband was there from Ann Arbor, too.

The Praise team sang, “I am a friend of God.” It is a perky song, but the family was just crying.

Sid Ellis, one of Daddy’s former students, and our pastor who handles all the behind the scenes of the video ministry, served as MC. Usually a great comedian, Sid was very somber at this time.

Mother Kathleen, Mommy’s pastor, started the service with prayer. She knew and loved Mommy, and she brought her into the service immediately.

Pastor Armstrong, our assistant pastor, who also knew Zeke from his days as a coach and gym teacher, read the scripture from 2 Corinthians about in my Father’s house are many mansions. I go to prepare a place for you. . .

We were asked if we wanted to say a last goodbye to Mommy before they closed the coffin. Daddy went up and hugged her, and it was so sad. He looked so small, frail. His glasses were off, and he was moved. I didn’t want to go up and see it again. I know that Mommy was already gone, and that was just her house.

Delores Myers, Mommy’s best friend, read the obituary, and the acknowledgements. The Saturday Eves’, who I couldn’t find where to put them in the obituary–I’m sorry–gave her a proclamation. Delores did so well; I know how much she loved Mommy. And she didn’t break down. Harvey (Delores’ husband) was a rock there by her side the whole time.

Ebone, daughter of my friend Candace, sang, “His eye is on the Sparrow.” It was beautiful. When I first looked at the musicians to see who was playing, I’d just noticed Cliff on the keyboards, and a man that looked a little like the sound man playing the drums. Cliff is the organist’s son, probably 16 or 17. I watched the musicians, as Cliff made way for Derek to accompany Ebone. I hadn’t noticed Derek before. At 15, Derek is the son of Myron, the choir director. Derek is a very experienced and talented musician; he had started playing drums with the choir when he was 6 or so. Ebone was used to singing a capella, but she did well with the accompaniment, too.

When the floor was open for comments, nobody came forward at first. Then, Aunt Florence came forward. She was going to read my tribute to Mommy, ‘in the shadow of her needle.’ She talked about how Mommy was not just a sister-in-law, but a friend. She talked about their visit last summer, and how one of the things Mommy had pulled out to show her was the Mother’s Day tribute I’d given her.

And Aunt Florence shared a small section of the tribute–the part about how Mommy knew the value of idle hands are the devil’s workshop. I thought it was a good picture of who she was.

Mama Love got up to talk about Mommy being on her dissertation committee, and encouraging her to fight for what she believed in.

Ben Wilson shared about the groundhog’s day party. It was light, and funny; like he’d written down what he was going to say.

Mrs. Lett said that Mommy had, over the course of three days, taught her how to make watermelon pickles, and now Mrs. Lett was a star in her family for those pickles.

Karen Brown couldn’t hold back the tears as she talked about how ‘Lethonee was my friend.’ She talked about how Mommy had inspired her and encouraged her to write her most successful play, (Grandma’s Quilt). I had forgotten how much Mommy had touched people’s lives.

Stephani Herbert surprised me by talking about how she didn’t know mommy, but she knew me from school, from the 8th grade, and she had always admired my courage to be smart. She knows now that I got that from Mommy.

Bonnie got up and talked about salvation. She said that Mommy was quiet, but what was important was if she had Jesus.

One of Daddy’s frat brothers got up and said he had just met her recently, but she was a nice lady.

The remarks were cut short, and Romeo Phillips sang a spiritual, accompanied by Clarence Small, our old organist at Allen Chapel. Romeo has a beautiful baritone, operatic voice, with amazing control, even though he is in his upper 70s. Clarence is a brilliant musician as well; I could tell he was fighting with the keyboard to make it act more like a piano.

Reverend Smith, of Allen Chapel rose for the eulogy. He said he had never met Mommy, but he had met me, and the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Again, I was taken aback. We had met at the hospital that day when he annointed her with oil. Reverend Smith also brought home the point that everybody has to be saved. His message made us laugh in spots, and I found myself enjoying everything, and no longer crying.

The Praise Team sang, “There is a sweet/ annointing in the sanctuary. . . ,” the song I’d had in my head all day Friday. I was surprised to look up and see Sister Yvonne leading the song. I hadn’t seen when the Pastor’s wife had arrived.

Soon, we all proceeded out, and I greeted people down the aisle, and found myself surrounded by people in the Narthex again. The first person I saw when I exited the sanctuary was Irita! She was the only of my college friends who could make it, but they were all thinking of me. I was very glad to see her.Tammi and Rachel made it! Yanni, surrounded by her two best friends, Ebone and Rachel, was content showing them about her grandmother through quilts and pictures.

I had a regular procession of people to hug and talk to, while Daddy and them rushed around trying to get in the cars to go to the cemetery. By the time Curtis and I went outside, we saw that the limo was full. Jerri got out, and offered me her seat, saying she’d ride with Devon. Fellah, Eva, and Aunt Florence made room for Curtis, and I sat by Zeke and Kim. The car filled to capacity, we made it up Westnedge from the church.

When we got to the cemetery, Eva was sick again, and Fellah yelled at the limo driver to get the back windows open. The windows were slow, stuck, and Eva threw up in her hand. Fellah really yelled at the driver now, and insisted on getting out and walking. It was quite a walk to the grave site, but the air would do her some good.

Daddy was looking for the tent, and Aunt Florence was talking about the building, but in the end, we sat outside, without a tent, on these funny astroturf covered chairs. We were given carnations from the coffin spray to put on top of the coffin on our way out. Reverend Smith said a prayer, and we each said our final goodbyes. The coffin remained up after we left.

Tona was telling Curtis and me what it was like to grow up in their family, and she regretted that she hadn’t gotten up to talk about the Angel she knew. I regretted it too. She and Toby left the cemetery and went back to Detroit.

The rest of us rode back to the church for the repast. At this point, it really felt like a family reunion. Just like at the reunion, I sat with Zo and Felisha. The table behind us had other first cousins: Lewis and Deidre, Langston, Karl, and Michael.

Yanni and Xay sat with Daniel and David, and Daddy was at the head table with Zeke and Kim, Uncles Steve and Dick, Eva and Fellah, and Cathy and Aunt Hank.

The food was pretty good, and the atmosphere was nice in the Solid Rock Cafe. There was plenty of room, and, even though we ran out of cobbler, *boo*, there was plenty of food.

I made the rounds, trying to talk to everyone there. Sherese and her family joined us for the repast, and their presence was comforting. I had seen this familiar face earlier at the funeral, and I didn’t know where from. I had seen Bop, Zeke’s good friend from college, and I had recognized him, but this other guy looked too old to be Zeke’s friend. But it was! It was Chad, who Zeke had brought by to visit back in ’92 when Yanni was a new baby. He looks like a grown-up, now, with the white hairs sprinkled in his ‘fro.

By this point, I was tired of telling everybody I had 5 children, and they all telling me they’d only met the oldest 2, so I was ready to go get the babies and show them off at Daddy’s house.

All of the family at least made an appearance at Daddy’s house. We stayed there from around 3 until 8, just hanging out and talking. Daddy was dozing in the chair and ottoman at first, but he woke up and started making mixed drinks for anyone interested. There were friends there among the family: Mrs. Brown, and two of her daughters, Pam and Karen, and two of Mommy’s dear friends, Gail and Paul. I had thought of them, and had wondered if anyone had told them of Mommy’s passing. I was glad to see them there again.

I had a nice long talk with Cathy about her father. Cathy hadn’t seen Uncle Steve in 3 years, and he was planning on going back to Southfield with her that evening.

I had another nice talk with Felisha and Deie, and later with Lew and Deie. It is good to get to know my new cousins better. Esteban and Lawrence finally got together, and I think they eventually got used to each other.

I found some pictures of Mommy on my way out the door that started me feeling sad again. I think I’m going to have some sad evenings for a little while now. Mommy always told me I get sad at night.

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. . .

Who was she, really?

Lethonee Jones, born 10 June 1938, in Bluefield, West Virginia. Her parents were Elbert and Alma Hendricks. Lethonee had a happy childhood until her father met his early death when she was only 10. Enough of these vital statistics as they don’t get at who she was. Lethonee was very dedicated to education. She came from an educated family. They all spoke the King’s English, even when they were at home. This later fascinated Leander, an English major in college, who had never heard real people speak this way in the privacy of their own home.

Her father had wanted to be a doctor, but he had received college tuition from a pharmacist, whose only stipulation was that he go into pharmacy. Mommy thought she’d become a doctor in his place. Instead, she studied people. Her degree in Intercultural Studies from Western College for Women gave her a taste for world travel. She thought she might want to join the foreign service. A highlight of her undergraduate years was a trip to the Middle East. She met King Hussein of Jordan, and was always telling everyone, “I’ve been there!” whenever that region was mentioned in the news.

After she married Leander C. Jones in 1962, she still had a taste for travel. An adventuresome young man, Leander thought it would be interesting to travel as well. The two joined the Peace Corps in 1964 and boldly headed off to Somalia. They lived in Mogadishu, the capital city of Somalia for two years, and traveled to Kenya, and various places in Europe as well.

They started their family life upon their return, and also immediately plunged into Graduate School. After staying home with her daughter Angela for two years, Lethonee went to work as a Professor at Kennedy King Community College in Chicago. She paused briefly to give birth to a son, Leander, who is called Zeke. ( the nickname was coined by Lethonee’s stepbrother, Dick) Then she returned to her career in academia.

The family moved to Nashville Tennessee, and Lethonee taught at the University of Tennessee Nashville, while Leander was a grant writer at Meharry Medical College. During this time, Lethonee was also active as a Girl Scout Leader, something she’d also done in Chicago. She started her Ph.D. program with a solo trip to Greece during this time as well.

After two years in Nashville, the family moved to Kalamazoo in 1975 and has been there ever since. They enjoyed a happy neighborhood life in the alley behind their home on Westnedge. (see the alleykid series) Both Leander and Lethonee secured positions at Western Michigan University, Lethonee in the Social Work department, and Leander in Black Studies. Lethonee was teaching and pursuing her Ph.D. from Union Graduate School. She was fascinated with family history and did some genealogical research. She was able to trace her husband’s family back to Africa. Her dissertation, Roots to Trees, details this research.

The Lewis-Fitcheard family reunion was born out of Lethonee’s questions to the older family members. The reunion is some thirty years strong now. Lethonee received her Ph.D. in 1977. She continued to teach at WMU until her retirement in 1994.

After retirement, she was able to pursue in earnest her many creative hobbies. She loved every kind of needlecraft and was constantly taking classes to learn newer, more interesting techniques. She learned everything from embroidery, to ribbon embroidery to bead embroidery. She learned increasingly complicated basket-making techniques. She would always send Len or one of the children out to find sticks, or straw, or milkweed pods to make some sort of woven thing.

Hers was a creativity gone wild: Lethonee would even save ham bones, pork chop bones and peach pits for making jewelry. She revolutionized local quilting groups with her bold use of color. She would often muse at how she’d enter a quilting group where the women were contemplating shades of beige, and she’d introduce some vivid jewel tone. The next year, everyone’s quilt had rich, bold colors in it.

Lethonee was fascinated with sea tones. She loved aqua, sea green, any shade of green, really, and she made everything in these colors: sweaters, sweat suits, dresses, afghans, you name it. She even had a car that aqua color—a Volkswagen bug—and our first house was painted that aqua color, too!

Throughout her adult life, Lethonee had various health issues. She had several surgeries on her thyroid gland which was eventually removed. She had large fibroid tumors which ultimately required a hysterectomy. She had her gall bladder removed, and later in life, she had various respiratory problems which resulted in her needing oxygen, especially at night. Diabetes and hypertension, and a previous hospitalization for an irregular heart beat were various issues she contended with during her last hospital stay.

Her knees had no cartilage left in them, making walking very painful. With her mobility impaired, Lethonee was not able to enjoy traveling as she had her whole life. She and Leander still took a trip to Hawaii three years ago, and earlier had traveled together throughout Canada with Florence, Leander’s sister, but she needed canes and wheelchairs. Finally, with the oxygen needs, she was forced to stay at home most of the time.

With this diminished quality of life, Lethonee was determined to lose weight and then have knee surgery. She had gastric bypass surgery on October 6, 2005, and was unable to fully recover. She breathed her last labored breath on February 22, 2006. She leaves behind her devoted husband of 43 years, Leander, an Aunt, Mollye Williams of Cleveland, a brother, Elbert Hendricks, two step-brothers, Steve and Richard Andrews, a brother-in-law, Lonnie Jones; four sisters-in-law, Florence Calhoun, Elizabeth Jones, Eva Hendricks and Anita Howard; three former sisters-in-law: Bobbie Jones, Henrietta Andrews, and Rosalyn Taylor; a daughter, Angela, son-in-law, Curtis, son, Zeke, daughter-in-law, Kim, step-daughter, Jerrilyn; six grandchildren, four step-grandchildren, and one step great-grandchild. She also leaves behind a host of cousins, nephews, nieces, and friends. Her closest friend, Delores Myers, also shared her passion for crafts. Lethonee will be greatly missed.

Even though her mother, Alma, came from a large family, there weren’t many children in the family. Most of her sisters were unable to bear children, and the one that had children was rebellious, and had run away from the family. Alma was the youngest of her siblings, and didn’t have the experience of helping to raise any little brothers or sisters, like an older child would have.

She and her husband, Elbert, were part of the black doctor social scene in their town in West Virginia. Elbert, who had wanted to be a doctor, was a pharmacist. This community socialized, and if the pictures tell anything, they had a good time. I wonder if they traded parenting tips. If doctors then had anything in common with doctors now, they no doubt had many opinions about weight and children.

As Angel started growing, her parents worried that she was too skinny. They began to feed her more. I’m sure the spectre of the depression would worry a parent about having a skinny child. After a while, they thought Angel was too fat. So, they put her on a diet as a little girl.

I think I heard something about some medicine to help her lose weight. Thus, the vicious cycle of yo-yo dieting was begun.

Elbert died when Angel was 10. It was devastating to the whole family. Mommy remembers that it was in the fall, and she hated fall for the rest of her life. Her mother had pulled all the curtains, and they sat in the house in the dark, and were not allowed to cry.

After her father died, Mommy and her mother and little brother moved to Ohio. Alma had been educated to be a teacher, but had not worked while her husband was alive. Now she planned to get a Masters Degree so that she could better support her family. They moved in with another family in Ohio to lessen the financial burden.

The girl in the other family was younger than Angel, and she was jealous of her. Mommy found it humiliating to go through puberty in this house with no privacy. She was an early bloomer, and because of her mother’s discomfort with fat, Mommy’s curves were considered fat.

Alma was of a thin build, not very curvy, but Angel took after her father’s side of the family, and had more curves in her womanly figure. Those curves were distrusted, and a source of shame for Angel. The family began to compare her disfavorably to her younger cousin, who was still built like a child.

After Angel grew up, she married, and her husband called her Angela, her middle name. She and Len had five years alone together, first living in Chicago, then they were in one of the early Peace Corps groups. They worked together for two years in Somalia, Africa, an experience that colored the whole rest of their lives together.

They got pregnant on the way home from the Peace Corps, and had their first child in Urbana, where Len, her husband, received his Masters Degree. They decided to give the (surprise!) baby girl the name of Angela. Len’s brother had recently had a son. So had his sister. They naturally assumed they would have a boy, too, so they had planned to have a junior. I guess they had one, anyway.

Rechristened Leth, my mother set out on her parenting journey. She had hovered around a size 16 from the beginning of her marriage. After the baby, she was a little bigger than that. After Len finished his Masters Degree, the family moved to Chicago. They lived with Len’s brother, and his wife Liz, and their son, Lorenzo, for a while, before moving into an apartment.

By the time Leander Corbin Jones (jr) the 3rd, as I called him, was born, we’d moved into our first house. Mommy was now officially fat. She blamed her pregnancy with Leander Corbin Jones (jr) the 3rd–nicknamed Zeke–for the weight gain.

I remember Mommy trying so many things. She did yoga–taught me how to stand on my head. She had that little wheel with two handles. I don’t know what that was supposed to do. She had this contraption with elastic bands and handles. She wouldn’t let us watch her exercise, so durned if I know what that thing did.

She tried several diets. The one that I really remember was the liquid protein diet. In the late 70s, she went on this one. She stopped eating food altogether, and drank this liquid protein. She was so hungry! She started making us all kinds of odd pumpkin and squash dishes, that she conveniently couldn’t eat, but certainly would have, if she could.

Mommy lost 70 pounds on this liquid diet. She was able to wear 16s again, maybe even 14s! We went to Denmark to visit Fellah, her little brother during this diet. The Danish cuisine was too tempting for Mommy, and she quit the diet.

She ended up gaining back all the weight she’d lost, and some. She tried walking with Daddy, but he said she was too slow. Mommy started losing mobility. One day, when we were walking down the hill to my Jr. High School, Mommy lost her footing and fell down. Zeke and I were shocked. We didn’t know what to do. We helped her up, and then we drove to the school.

Mommy had always been so active. She was always the one taking us places, and we did a lot of walking. When she had to stop that, it was a huge change.

Soon, she was unable to walk very far at all. She started taking classes at the Y in the swimming pool. She liked the water aerobics, because the water was gentle on her knees.

Eventually, it became too hard for her to go to the pool; getting all the way to the pool became a problem. Without this exercise, she became more out of shape.

Mommy lost all the cartilage in her knees. Her friend had had this problem too, and she had had a surgery that corrected it. They flew out to the Mayo clinic together to talk about Mommy getting the surgery. It turned out that the surgeon would only perform the surgery if Mommy lost 100 pounds.

She tried various other liquid based diets, but failed. She’d lose a few pounds, then stall, lose heart, and return to regular eating.

Desperate, she turned to bariatric surgery. Mommy was refused this radical surgery in Kalamazoo, because of her age and underlying physical condition. She found a doctor in Grand Rapids who would perform the surgery if she lost 10 pounds. She went back on something like SlimFast, (Curtis and I had suggested South Beach), and she lost 12-14 pounds.

So, she went in and had the surgery in October, and we were all hopeful for a happy ending.

There are so many things to glean from this part of her life. Mommy knew that the incessant worrying about her weight had set her up. She refused to let that happen to me. I also started out small, then got big. Daddy would try to tease me about my size, and Mommy would step in and not let him, or anyone do that.

It was like she laid down her life, so that no one else would have to be fat. Being fat is a nightmare. I see that even after her death, it is a monkey on her back. Daddy had tried to “get her into the back door of Medical School,” as he put it. He tried to donate her body to science. It was rejected, because, at 270 + pounds, it is too heavy. She needs a wider coffin. You have to be careful of that, because if you get one that’s too wide, you have to get a double grave, etc. So, the nightmare continues. I shudder to think about having to hear from the pallbearers how hard it was to carry. . .

I have watched her trapped in this nightmare of fat my whole life. I would watch Richard Simmons, crying, hoping that Mommy could escape this. But she was unable to deal with the emotions that drove her to eat too much. You don’t treat fat. You treat emotions.

She was so delicate, so dainty. Even wrapped in all that fat.

She will be greatly missed. Funeral preparations are proceeding. She will be buried on March 4th.

Check the site for many tributes to Mommy. I have much to say.

The doctor also explained what congestive heart failure is. It is when your heart can’t pump the fluid away from your lungs. Mommy is also struggling with this.

I am angry that in an attempt to get her kidneys going, they flooded her system with water, and now she’s trying to cough to get that stuff out of her lungs. Not to mention, her hands are all puffy again.

I wish they’d just leave her the hell alone! Let her heal! She has had to deal with all this veternary medicine ever since she’s been put in this hospital system. When will they get a clue?

The doctor also said something very interesting about Mommy’s nutritional state. She said that Mommy’s protein is low. Really? Isn’t that what I’ve been saying all along? She says that the normal protein level is a 4, and Mommy’s protein is at a 2.5, and has been as low as 1.9. Didn’t I say they needed to treat her with protein since the beginning? Curtis asked what difference does protein make to the system, and she said that a protein deficiency indicates that the liver isn’t working.

While the doctors brace for a system shut down, now would be the perfect time for God to show up. I have cursed the doctor’s prognosis; I have cursed the words of her mouth, and have proclaimed that Mommy will have a full recovery, and walk out of that hospital! Please stand with me in faith.

I took Esteban towards the room with me, and Joy followed. Mommy was asleep when we got in there. I noticed her shoulders were uncovered, so I pulled the cover over them, and she opened her eyes. Joy was walking across the foot of the bed, and Mommy saw her. Her eyes lit up! And I saw recognition cross her face. Joy smiled at her Grammy as well. I picked up Esteban to show him his grandmother, and he leaned back against me. I don’t think he recognizes her any more, even though he still says, “Grammy’s house” when we go to their house.

I took Joy and Esteban back to the lobby and left them with Yanni, and took Imani and Xay back to see Grammy. While they were in there, the respitory specialist came in and put a nebulizer on Mommy. She said she gets it every 4 hours, or was it 2 hours? Anyway, they just started it last night. Apparently, her oxygen is good, and her breathing is good, but this nebulizer is for her lungs. I wonder if it is part of fighting that pneumonia? Anyway, she didn’t have to have it on for long, and I took Imani and Xay back and got Yanni.

I warned her on the way that Mommy’s color is still darker than normal, and that her skin is peeling. Yanni was surprised at all the prominant bones on Mommy’s face, and I noticed how much Yanni’s face looks like her grandmother’s now. Mommy struggled to open her eyes, and at one point, she sat up with her eyes open and grabbed at her stomach. It looked like she was in pain. I asked her if she wanted me to take the cover off her shoulders, and she nodded, so I did. She was more restful after this. I tried to smooth her brow, but I am uncomfortable with stroking her, etc, because she never really liked this kind of touch.

We left shortly thereafter. I wonder if she’ll remember we were there?