It was a sunny Saturday until the hour of Momma’s death when the day became as dark as night, the rain came down in buckets, the thunder rolled and lightning lit the sky. The storm raged as I sang Momma’s favorite hymns to her while holding her cool hands in mine. I told her what a wonderful mother was and how much I loved her and that it was all right for her to go. She held my face in her hands, smiled and said, “My daughter,” beaming with the pride she had shown me throughout life. I remembered the loud talk she had a few days earlier with God and the loved ones that died before her. Momma spoke of hearing laughter and even swayed to the beautiful music from the other dimension (that only she could hear) as she waved her arms in rhythm and smiled. Little did she know that those one-sentence “lessons” she declared with force and clarity would become part of her eulogy the following week. As my mother’s hands left my face and returned to hold mine, I kissed her and held her hands even more tightly. The hymns I had been singing were stuck in my throat and tears were rolling down my face. We looked deeply into each other’s eyes as the storm passed; as she passed over into heaven to join the celebration of her anticipated arrival.

Marjorie Diggs Freeman - Momma’s Eulogy
(Durham, North Carolina)
2005; 40 x 30 inches; cotton, silk, handmade lace, antique and new purses, wired ribbon, weaving, fabric folding, found objects, hand and machine quilting;
photo by Chas. E. Martin.