Today makes five years since I buried Mama and, last night, I had a dream about her!

Actually, because it was in real time, it wasn’t a dream. Mama *came* to me last night!

I got her approval on some things and she spoke her mind about other things that have happened lately.

One of my mother’s friends/coworkers was also in the dream because Mama was attending to something for him, as well. He made some joke about how she’s supposed to be resting. Mama said she’s resting and working.

I woke up and immediately wrote that down! That great cloud of witnesses we each have is resting from their labor *and* working on our behalf.

There’s so much I remember about that day five years ago. The overwhelming love and respect so many people had for my mama. The real care and love folks gave me.

I remember the stories and tributes shared. The songs sung.

Mama’s pastor Dennis Bishop’s eulogy and our forever pastor John H. Walker’s words that I’ve clung to help me make sense of what happened that week before. “The master calleth thee.” (John 11:28-29).

I remember how it felt to stand before Mama’s casket at the cemetery, confess that I didn’t understand why any of this was happening, kiss it and become completely undone. I did not want to leave Evergreen Cemetery because I didn’t want to leave my mama.

I couldn’t actually envision a world without her and leaving that cemetery would mean I’d have to face it.

When we got back, I remember telling my godsister Tonja that I was going to my room and wouldn’t be back down for the rest of the day.

All of my friends crowded in my room and in the library just to let me know they were there. Wall to wall friends as we laughed and cringed as Layla fed me Sour Patch Kids from her sticky fingers because she said I needed to eat.

I laid in the bed my mother bought in the house my mother built wearing the dress I wore to her funeral surrounded by folks she considered adopted children because of their relationships with me.

There’s so much that I want to say about how folks treat you when you’re grieving...when your entire world has turned upside down and it takes you too long to turn it right side up again. I’ve addressed some of it in my book.

I have tried to give people the grace Mama asked me to give them the day before she died, when she called to tell me about the bombing in Paris and that our family friend Jasmine was safe. She told me that people do the best they can. I want to believe that but I don’t know.

From my experience, people will *say* that they understand what you’re going through and give you space to deal with loss but they really don’t. They still expect you to show up as you have been and adjust your grief to best suit them.

I honestly don’t know if people are actually doing the best they can or if my mother had a faith and belief in humanity I’d not yet developed. What I knew was I doing the best I could and that’s all that mattered.

I’ve been asked to speak on panels, podcasts, webinars about losing your mother and I always decline. Whether or not that’s something I do in the future, it’s not something I want to do now for a number of reasons.

But folks, especially sisters, often reach out after their mothers have passed away for some sort of advice. I feel bad because I wonder if it’s actually helpful.

I always tell them to allow the grieving process to take shape in them how it will.

I know folks like to talk about “grieving well”/not bleeding on social media. Welp. That’s exactly what I did. Would I change any of it? Nope. Do I take lessons to apply to the public processing of grief and trauma in the future? Absolutely. Was any of it a mistake? Not at all.

Nobody can dictate your journey. Our responses to trauma, loss, pain and grief may look different but I really believe they have to be authentic to who we are if we’re going to emerge from the depths whole.

I do not wish the feeling I had when I turned away from my mother’s casket to walk back to the car on my worst enemy. It was a darkness that was darker than what I thought was possible. And I had to make my way through that. Some days I can’t believe that I did.

But I didn’t do it alone. I’m grateful for a God who didn’t leave me, true community (family, friends, colleagues, social media buddies) and a mama who is resting and working.