Hey friends and curious strangers, just a brief note to say that my mom, a dear ardent difficult compassionate and much-beloved individual, died suddenly this week. Been much supported in all the numbing practicalities of death (insurance paperwork, event planning), and in the intense oceanic movements of grief, by my fierce and loving community.
My mom taught me to take the struggle for human dignity and liberation absolutely personally; she also treasured her relationship with God through a deep anti-authoritarian streak that made her a restless member of any faith community. She liked good food and booze both fancy and cheap, and experienced a somatic, overmastering pleasure in the music she loved (New Orleans R&B, honky-tonk, jazz, zydeco, Los Lobos, Stevie Wonder, Cuban son).
Something from Christian Wiman’s My Bright Abyss, a book she read in the last year of her life: “Life is not an error, even when it is. That is to say, whatever faith you emerge with at the end of your life is going to be not simply affected by that life but intimately dependent on it, for faith in God is, in the deepest sense, faith in life—which means that even the staunchest life of faith is a life of great change.” My heart goes out toward someone whose changes are done.