A MOTHERS DAY THREAD:

On Ancestry, Hoodoo, Syncretisms, Divine Mothering & Memory!

I’ve been thinking about rituals within the Black church and how African they are.

After my water baptism, I was given a life memory verse. Though I’m not a Christian, it definitely still applies.

Baptisms (water & Holy Ghost) are initiatory rites for sure.

My childhood pastor did divination (they don’t call it that, of course) to determine that scripture verse for me.

After my baptism, I was presented to the church. In many African and Diasporic traditions, after an initiatory rite, you are you are presented in some kinda way.

Those spirits who met & sealed me during those rituals still walk and talk with me today. Many of my spirits are dead church folk and water spirits.

And when divining for ppl, the church folk give me messages thru songs, hymns, & scriptures which I translate for ppl.

As a child, I had an uncanny ability to memorize, recall, and understand scripture. I stopped reading the Bible for about 7 years because of spiritual abuse & trauma, but I can still recite whole chapters.

Now I use those scriptures for workings, everyday life, & spells.

32 years ago, I was born on Mother’s Day. My grandmother, a healer, was my mother’s midwife & I came right out into my grandmothers hands. My grandmother, born with a caul/veil, delivered her 7th child’s baby on Mother’s Day. Real Hoodoo shit for sure.

3 years ago, I was heading to South Africa & as I was packing, my suitcase broke. The day before my trip, I went to my grandmothers to get a suitcase. She was dressed, hair done, and looking fly. She told my Momma she wanted to go out which excited us cuz she’d been very ill.

Once I was there, she said she wanted to go to hospital. My mom was confused & asked, “are you sure?”. She said yes. I told my mom I’d go w/ though my flight was leaving in less that 24 hours. My grandmother got ready, my mom went out to open the door to the car.

As we walked toward the vestibule & door, my grandmother said, “you holding onto me, Keemie?”
I said, “Yes, Mom-Mom! You see I got your arm right here.” She said, “you sure, you holding me tight? Again, I said, “yes, see I’m holding you up right here”. She asked a third time.

After I said yes again, we walked through the vestibule and door. Once we stepped down to the porch, she said, “Whew, I need to take a break & sit down.” My mom was rushing a bit and I said, “Mom, just let her sit here for a bit and then we’ll go down the steps to the car”.

I helped my grandmother sit on the porch, in her favorite chair. And as soon as she sat down, she left. She transitioned.
A lightening bolt of energy ran through my body and I knew immediately what I had to do.
From that moment, til after the funeral, I led my family.

I did the order of service, led the writing of the obituary, hired musicians and singer, making sure she had the home going she deserved and desired. It was fabulous.

My grandmother ushered and brought me into this plane being the first to touch, anoint, and bless me.

I was able to do the same for her. It was how it HAD to be. She passed down the healing, the gifts, and the blessings when she “caught me” as I came into this world. I was able to usher her out. It’s all circular, like the Bantu-Kongo Cosmogram.

As a kid, my grandmother told me the story of how I came into the world dozens of times, probably so I wouldn’t forget it. And she reminded me, maybe only me, of how she was born and the spiritual gifts she had and she used as a kid w/ the leadership of her mother.

Days before my grandmother’s transition, I had done a ton of spiritual work and ebbos for myself, my family and mother in particular.
Whenever I travel abroad, I have to go to the spirits, specifically Ogun (at that time, I didn’t even know he had my head).

The diviner told me something major would happen in my family soon and I HAD TO BE THERE because I would play a huge roll.

I assumed it would happen after my trip.

I didn’t know the work i was doing was clearing the way for my grandmother to transition with grace and ease.

Fast forward to last September, I’m sitting misa & for the first time, my grandmother came through. She was upset because I was very sad and depressed inside my grief.

Then she started singing the lullaby she used to sing to me and my sister. I lost it, of course.

She was like, “why I gotta come here when I talk to you regularly? I sent you to go play the lottery days ago and you did it. You hear me and know I’m here.”

I was asked why I wasn’t making medicines for myself others and reading folk. My ass was like, “I don’t know enough”

She was not having that! She said, “you have everything you need because you were paying attention.”

My grandmother & great grandmother raised me in my very early years. They both were healers, though the didn’t talk about it much publicly.

As a kid I sat under them & watched

When my great grandmother transitioned, I was angry not because she died but because she didn’t tell me she was leaving. So, of course, in true Hoodoo fashion, she came to me regularly when I was 10 or 11, sometimes scaring the shit outta me. She was the first dead person I saw.

I know the ways, the medicines, and the secrets. From them, from going to church (on my own at 8 or 9 w/o anyone asking or telling), from being able to see, sense, feel, and know things, deep things, as long as I can remember.

In that misa, I was told making medicine was for others, but especially for me. The spirits literally pointed me to stuff in my grandmother’s and her mother’s bedroom, medicines they used to sooth and heal.

I needed to hear this, especially as someone living w/ chronic illness.

Last December, I had one of the biggest flare ups w/ ulcerative colitis which led to being hospitalized twice. I never experienced that much pain and fear.

In that moment, while being on bed rest for weeks, not able to do much including walking, my spirits spoke loud and clear.

Living alone, I had to take the lead in nursing myself back to health though i was very supported.

I promised them I would stand proudly in the legacy I came from and do my portion of the work.

In that time, they guided me on how to heal and take care of myself for real.

So here I am now, after weeping my eyes out at my altar on Mother’s Day realizing that I’ve been being mothered all along.

My great great grandmother, who I never met physically, talks to me faithfully, making sure I keep my house in order.

Today, I give praise for my Momma, her Momma, and all the Momma’s before her. To the great Mother spirits who walk with me, constantly admonishing me to honor, love, and protect Black women. I honor you.

And to anyone who feels alone today, I pray you’re comforted and know that even when humans fail, spirit always, always has a plan. I mean, God is a Mother, a Black woman.

So when you see me shining in my glory, offering this spiritual work, you’ll know and understand why. Well, a little bit.

I’m done and gonna take my ass to the water to sing to my sweet Mother, Oshun.