Grieving Chronicles: LaTosha🌹

Just as I was grabbing napkins to cover and dry my face of the downpour of tears that gushed out of nowhere this morning—while sitting at the restaurant table waiting on my meal—I received a text from a colleague—“I can feel your heart in this moment, and know that I am lifting you and your family up in prayer.” I thanked her and let her know that I needed and appreciated her prayers. The simultaneous text reminded me of the nearness of God that has always shown up for me.  And the depth of my “brokenheartedness”, in this moment is something with its own original intensity.  And I think I understand why that is. And perhaps understanding that will aid in my healing journey.

 

     The morning before leaving Costa Rica —I sat at the breakfast table with a friend. And I tried to avoid telling her of the strange “feeling” of my baby brother Michael’s presence around me… I questioned why is this—literally what’s happening right now? Thinking, “Perhaps it’s because I brought his name up earlier in the week?” That said, I generally stay away from these types of assertions—but what I knew and accepted in that moment, “My brother’s presence  (or the feeling of), was a unction that something eminent was looming…and that it wasn’t good. I said, “It’s a sibling.” Which in this case is eerily similar… And I realized just how connected that association was when I kept calling Tosha—“Valerie.” I referred to her by her mother’s name approximately 4 times in one conversation. And it clicked—the brain doesn’t forget—and I was reminded—that I was able to build a bridge back to my sister with my niece. I never got to properly mourn my sister Valerie… but the relationship between me and Tosh allowed my mind and heart to express my love for them both. I always had an incredible soft spot for Tosha. And for a time, she escaped from view—but not before appointing me, “Godmother” to her oldest daughter. So, when life afforded us another opportunity—I refused to let her go. In fact, I just began steps towards a business endeavor that included her. And there is absolutely no one else that can fill her shoes—not even me.

     That said, I have a pretty profound history of, dreams, visions, and “feelings.” But not usually with my eyes wide open… the list is too long to share. 

      But the month before my nephew Jesse’s death —I dreamt it—and the narration in the dream/vision gave me descriptors of “who” it was. And I determined that it was Jesse. When it was my oldest brother Ronald, I dreamt it—and awaken from my dream—told my aunt, “Somebody is hurting my brother.”  

     So, I was asked a few days or so ago, “What do you think about the fact that you have that?” “What?” “That vision and dream thing—because some people would say it was, ‘not’ of God.”  “Well they better study their Bibles more closely.”  But having said that, I think I am coming to terms with the idea of these visions and unctions—in my instances, is a mechanism that God uses to prepare me for what He knows—will likely (and otherwise) take me under.  When my baby brother died by suicide—I left the country, so that I could mourn out loud—yet privately.  When my eldest nephew, Jesse, was killed—I baked pies everyday for about a week—and I ate them. And yes, I wore every single calorie—even down to my legs. Grieving and trauma shows up in many forms—in human behaviors. And for that reason—I am confident that I will need grief counseling this go around —I’m sure of it. And I highly recommend it for others.

God bless us all.🕯️🕊️🤍

#griefcounseling

#mourning

#forevermytoshaboo

#God

#processing

#HaleemahRichardson

#Tosha

#Tosh🌹🕯️🕊️🤍