I remember the feeling of excitement as I pulled on my Tate Family Reunion t-shirt. I remember the feeling of being a part of something big and something great. I looked forward to spending time in the park with my family from different parts of the country. We played games, we laughed, we ate, we danced and we were one unit: white t-shirts with green lettering and a green tree on the front signifying our unity. But yesterday I did not feel any of that. It was crazy to have my great uncle look at me as if I was a leper, stiffening in my embrace. "I'm Chi-Wee's daughter," I said as moved as far away from him as he wanted me to be. We are separate now, no longer a unit. The two matriarchs of the Tate Family lay in an unmarked grave just a few feet behind where I stood holding a rose for Reggie. Five years later and our family has scattered so much so that we have left them without a marker.
I fell in line with family I have never known to offer a rose. I smelled it one last time and thought, "I would like to receive flowers while I can still smell them." I offered my rose to Reggie and a prayer to follow him on the next part of his journey.
Maybe Reggie's time here was meant to brighten as many lives as possible and to bring us back together. We'll never know but what is prominent here is time is not on our side. I don't want to bring flowers for someone else who can no longer appreciate them. The flowers that I bring or are brought to me, I would like them sitting on a table between me and the person (or people) that I am spending quality time with and getting to know better.