Peace From Broken Pieces: How to Get Through What You're Going Through

  I continue to be amazed at how God will let you know what you need to know, exactly when you need to know it. I had completely forgotten about the grandchildren’s college fund. I called my broker. I still had $12,000 in the fund. Great! He could overnight it to me since he understood the need. Fantastic! That would enable me to pay the faculty for Christmas and keep Gemmia supplied with carrots, grapes, wheat grass, and all of the new tidbits she needed. In the meantime, however, I couldn’t buy a mosquito a hair net! What was I going to do? Swallow my pride and make some calls. I did. One person had it to give a week before Christmas. Vanessa told me to come and pick up a check for $10,000. I cried all the way there, all the way to the bank, and all the way to the supermarket.

  Almasi had the brilliant idea to let the students get involved. This was not the time to hold back. They knew Gemmia. They loved her. Instead of buying her Christmas gifts, they could contribute grapes, carrots, and vegetables. The e-mail went out and the calls started pouring in. This meant that I could pay the telephone bills, Gemmia’s and mine; the light bills, hers and mine. It also meant that I could cover both of our car payments and still have enough left over for at least three days of veggies. God is so good!

  Christmas was just five days away, and Gemmia insisted that we plan to do everything as we usually did. Lydia and the children put the lights up on the house. I planned the menu with Nisa and Gemmia’s help. We would get the tree, as normal, on Christmas Eve. For presents, we would scour Target and get what we could for the children.

  It was all planned. Then something happened so quickly, it caught me off guard. I heard Gemmia screaming. The pain meds were not working. She couldn’t lie down and she couldn’t sit up. Her back was too tender to touch. I called the doctor. He would meet us at the hospital. She was dehydrated again. He wanted me to start her on a regimen of Ensure so that she would get some more nutrients. Yawfah wasn’t pleased about putting chemicals in her body, but we needed to keep her nourished. She was still working off the effect of the chemo meds.

  She stayed in the hospital for three days. During that time, Dr. Mussenden came to visit her. When she left the hospital, she called me. She wanted to know if Gemmia had spoken to Niamoja. She didn’t think Gemmia had. She knew that Gemmia was fighting and that anything was possible, but she also wanted me to know that things did not look good at all. “I am her mother and I will not hear that! This thing could turn around any minute.” Dr. Mussenden agreed with me and said she would check in later in the week.

  It is so good to know people, a variety of people who do different things. Judith’s ex-husband was an old-fashioned medical doctor. He still believed in house calls. He would come to the house and give Gemmia everything that she needed, including vitamin shots. Was that safe? Absolutely! In fact, I should have some also because the stress wasn’t good for me. When he arrived, he started Gemmia on an IV of all sorts of goodies. He also told me about a clinic in Mexico that offered a nontraditional cancer treatment using vitamins. He had a friend…he would give him a call…was her liver involved…what was her last blood count…don’t worry about the tumor. The next voice I heard was Gemmia’s. She had walked to the bedroom door to ask for help to use the bathroom. She saw us talking. “I hope you are not down there making arrangements for me to do anything else. I am in charge of my own healing. Why do you always have to be sneaking around behind my back?” She stumbled back into the bedroom. She was mad at me again.

  I called Almasi, who came over immediately because Gemmia would not allow me into her bedroom. Gemmia had calmed down by the next morning, in part because she needed me to help her, in part because she had written me a letter. It was a three-page letter thanking me for everything I had done for her. That was the good part. Then she blasted me for everything she could think of. She ended the letter by writing that if she was going to heal, she was going to heal on her own terms and God’s terms. She wrote that most people get sick and then find God. She had found God and then got sick. She didn’t understand why she, the good kid, was having this test of faith, but she would survive it. She could not heal for me or Niamoja or anyone else. She needed to heal for herself so that she could follow her vision—not my vision, but her own. She ended the letter by asking me to honor her choices and to stop making plans for her life.

  I was too tired to be angry. I gave the letter to Almasi to read. Then I folded it up and threw it somewhere. By the time I woke up the next morning, my eyes were swollen, my head ached, my nose was running, and my ears were ringing. Despite the doctor’s insistance that we both get vitamin shots, I had a rip-roaring cold. Great! Just great! How was I going to be near Gemmia coughing like a lunatic?

  Gemmia didn’t get up the next morning. She allowed herself to be supported by the diaper. Nisa put her in the tub and tidied up her room while I, face covered with a bandana, made juice and oatmeal. I did my best to stay away from her throughout the day, even though she wasn’t mad at me any more. I didn’t want her to catch my cold. Once all of the kids were fed and went off Christmas shopping with Erika, I cleaned the house, made the evening juices, and flopped down at the kitchen table. I felt an incredible sadness and an even greater hopelessness. I called Rene, Ken’s wife. She told me that I should not be alone. She was willing to drive up from Richmond, but I assured her that the kids would be back soon. I sat for a while longer before the inspiration hit me.

  I called my husband. I had seen him when Gemmia was in the hospital. He was kind enough to pick up her medications when she was discharged. He seemed to have softened up a bit, so I decided to give it a shot.

  “Are you busy today?”

  “I’m just doing some Christmas shopping. How’s Gemmia? What’s up?”

  “I need you. I need you to be here with me. I don’t care if you sit in the living room and watch football, I just can’t do this alone any more.”

  “I hear you.”

  We were both silent.

  “Can you come?”

  “I don’t think I should do that.”

  “Okay. Can you tell me why?”

  “I just don’t think we need to be doing that.”

  “You know, you are still my husband and I am your wife. It has taken a lot for me to make this call. I really need you today, and Gemmia needs you too. This woman whom you hold out to be your daughter needs to know that you are here and so do I.”

  In that moment the tide had turned.

  “You know what? I am not going to allow you to use the children to manipulate me into doing what you want. I just saw Gemmia. She knows I am there for her. This isn’t about her, this is about you and the way you manipulate people. I am not the one. Not me! Not today!”

  “You are right. This is about me. As I said, I need you today. How foolish of me to think that you would respond. Please forgive me. I will not trouble you any further.”

  When was I going to learn? I hung up the telephone and sat there until I heard Gemmia’s bell.

  To my surprise, he showed up the next day. He had made arrangements with Nisa to take the children to buy the Christmas tree. They were excited and delighted to see him. When the tree was up and lit, he told me he would stay with Gemmia so that I didn’t infect her. He and Damon would take turns watching her throughout the night so that I could rest. It was 9 p.m.

  When I awoke, it was 6:30 A.M. I ran upstairs to check on Gemmia. My husband had left, probably to go to work. Damon was asleep on the floor in Gemmia’s bedroom. Gemmia was also on the floor. Her body was contorted, and it didn’t look like she was breathing. Then I noticed the foul odor in the room. My screaming brought everyone in the household, including the children, to their feet.

  “Call 911! Call 911!” I was rocking her in my arms. There were very slight convulsive waves moving through her body. I found the source of the odor. Gemmia had soiled herself, and it was all over the bed and the floor. “Why did I leave you alone? Please forgive me!”

  Damon was beside himself. “Ma, Ma, I was right here an
d I didn’t hear anything. Ma! I’m sorry!”

  The next few hours are a blur. The ambulance did come. We did make it to the hospital. Her blood sugar had fallen. They cleaned her up. The nurse called the entire family into a room. The cancer had spread into her liver and was moving up her spine. We should take her home and keep her comfortable. She was sorry. She was very, very sorry. Then we were all back at Gemmia’s house. Somewhere along the way, my husband had reappeared. He had left his wallet and when he came back to get it, he saw the ambulance and followed it. Almasi had cleaned up the bedroom. Helen was sitting in the armchair praying. Muhsinah had also followed the ambulance. The children had not gone to school. They were fine.

  Gemmia was heavily medicated and sleeping soundly. I was sitting at the side of her bed. Everyone else was downstairs. When I felt her, she felt cold. Why is she so cold? I called down to the team to come up and help me. I knew that there was something going on and I didn’t like it. I asked Almasi and Muhsinah to rub Gemmia’s hands. I got in the bed with her and put her feet on my belly. Helen was praying in her ears. Viviana and Judith were praying aloud and crying. Lydia was just praying. I kept rubbing her feet and her legs. We worked with her and on her for hours. Then, in her usual Gemmia way, she woke up and said:

  “What are you people doing? What is going on? Will somebody help me go pee, please?”

  We all started laughing, falling all over ourselves trying to get the portable potty that Nisa had brought the day before. When Gemmia was sitting firmly on the potty she looked around the room, shook her head, and called us a motley crew. Then she looked down and realized that her privates were exposed. To that she said, “Boy, talk about a lesson in humility.”

  She didn’t remember anything about the morning. She didn’t know that she had been in an ambulance or that she had gone to the hospital. I explained what had happened. I did not reveal what the nurse had said.

  She said she was tired. She wanted to take a nap so that she could get up and wrap some presents. She asked me to stay with her. Everyone else left the room. I sat there for many hours, watching her, every now and again checking her feet and hands. They were warm.

  Suddenly, I had an overwhelming urge to pray. So I did. I remember asking God to forgive me for anything I had done to cause harm to His child, my child. I asked Him to forgive me if I had called this affliction into her life. I asked Him to forgive me if I had abused her in any way, knowingly or unknowingly. I asked God to give me the strength to walk through His will, whatever it was to be. I asked Him not to take her away from me. At that point, I stopped. I asked for forgiveness and surrendered. Whatever your will is, God, I accept it. I could feel myself drifting. It felt as if I was being lifted, and I could not open my eyes. I wanted to speak but I could not. I wanted to pray, but somehow I knew I no longer needed to.

  I felt as if I were standing in a very high place looking up. The sky was very close to me, and the air was very clear and clean. I could feel my heart racing, although I was not afraid. Then I saw Him. He was standing above me, in front of me. It was the Christ. It was Jesus. He looked to be 10 or 12 feet tall. His skin was dark, darker than mine, but I could not see His face. I am not even sure He had a face. He was dressed in a long flowing robe with a Kente cloth strip around His neck. I could hear myself thinking, Iyanla, you have lost your mind. You are looking at a black Jesus in Kente cloth. In that instant, He seemed to grow larger and come closer. In that instant my heart stopped racing. We stared at each other for a moment. I was amazed at what I was seeing and feeling.

  Then I heard a voice. Will you give her to me? I was stunned. What did He mean? We stood in silence for what seemed like forever. The question was repeated, Will you give her to me? My heart started racing again. I could hear it in my ears. Will you give her back? There was silence.

  I remembered my prayer. I wanted to cry but could not. I saw myself reach down and lift Gemmia in my arms, the way I had carried her many times before. I didn’t know if she was asleep or dead. As I lifted her, I could see that she was naked, her arms dangling. I walked toward Him and lifted her up. Gently, the enormous figure reached down and took Gemmia from my arms. At the same time, I felt an incredible sense of peace. It was almost joyful. Holding her, looking at me, He walked or floated backwards, I am not sure which.

  My eyes were affixed to His. I watched closely until I couldn’t see them anymore. I stood looking into the emptiness. As if someone were whispering into my ear, I heard: If she makes it through Christmas Day, she will make it. Then I heard the children laughing in the hallway.

  Gemmia was still asleep, still warm. I was kissing her face when she awoke. With a strength and power I had not heard from her in several days, she greeted me with “Hey, Mumzie!” and sat up unassisted on the side of the bed. She seemed to be glowing. Her eyes were clear, not foggy like they had been earlier. She gave her body a huge stretch and tried to stand up.

  “Oh my God! How do you feel?”

  “I feel great but I really must pee.” I reached for the Porta Potty. . “No, not that. I want to go to the real bathroom.”

  “Okay!” What the heck was going on here? I took Gemmia to the bathroom, left her there and ran downstairs, where the team was snacking and chatting.

  “You have got to see this. You have got to come see Gemmia.” I ran back upstairs. Her energy had given me energy. When we emerged from the bathroom, everyone greeted her.

  “You guys are still here. Is it Christmas yet?”

  “No, G, that’s tomorrow. You still have some time.”

  “Good, I want to wrap my presents.” She pulled away from me and headed toward the closet.

  “Wait, the kids are still up. They will see. Let’s wait.”

  “Okay.” She flopped down on the bed. I was beside myself with joy. I called Niamoja.

  “Nini, come here. Mommy is awake.”

  She was hesitant, first standing in the doorway, then backing up just a bit. I was so wrapped up in my own fear, I had forgotten how hard this must be for her. Gemmia knew just what to say:

  “Nini, come here and give me a hug.”

  With that permission, Niamoja ran into the room and all but tackled her mother. They were interlocked like a human pretzel. Everyone in the room stared, smiled, and almost cried.

  I called the other children in to see Gemmia so that they would know that she had recovered from the drama of the morning. While Gemmia hugged, kissed, and entertained the children, I called Yawfah. I told her Gemmia seemed to have turned the corner. I did not tell her about my vision. I told her that Gemmia had sat on the toilet and walked out of the bathroom unsupported. She was yelling, screaming, and, I suspect, jumping up and down.

  Lovely strawberry Ensure and carrot juice for dinner. Yum! Tulani called to say that she was on her way down to spend Christmas with us. She hadn’t seen Gemmia in a few weeks. I was excited. I wanted everyone to see that Gemmia was on the way back. Nisa had started Christmas dinner. I was glad that I did not have to cook. The team had left, so the house was pretty quiet. Damon stopped by to say he had to do a few drop-bys but he would be back to wrap gifts. I kept thanking God under my breath and checking on Gemmia. First she was reading, then she was in Niamoja’s room, then she wanted to take a bath, then she was asleep, then I remembered, if she makes it through Christmas Day, she will make it.

  I lift up my eyes to the hills— where does my help come from?

  Psalms 121:1 (NIV)

  CHAPTER 18

  BEYOND DEATH

  I was not new to the experience of death. I knew she was gone. Viviana gave me her stethoscope to check for a heartbeat. What I heard was a hollow sound, as if I were listening to the inside of a tunnel. I laid Gemmia flat on the bed, and we all gathered around her to pray. I heard this ear-piercing scream. It was my own.

  After we prayed, I washed Gemmia. Then we changed her clothes and covered her body, not her face. We tidied up the bedroom and played her favorite music. All of this we did before we
called 911. All of this we did before anyone shed a tear. There were no tears until the undertaker came. Damon was the first one to break down.

  I was determined that Gemmia was not going to the morgue. I did not want her body mutilated and probed. The fact that it was Christmas Day and no one wanted to be disturbed probably worked in our favor. We needed a death certificate in order to move her body from her home to the funeral home. When I called her doctor, I got his answering service. When the operator heard my name, she became severely star-struck. I explained what I needed. She started telling about her favorite book and how much I had helped her. I gave the telephone to Tulani and went back to sit with Gemmia.

  Every 15 minutes or so, I relived the experience of Gemmia’s organs shutting down. First, I would see the black curtain. Then, my head would get woozy and heavy. Then, one by one, I felt the organs go. After the second or third time it happened, I went into a daze and I didn’t come out of it until we had placed Gemmia’s casket in the ground, high on a hill, in the Garden of Faith at Harmony Memorial Cemetery.

  I don’t remember much else. I do remember that everything went smoothly. There was absolutely no drama. The team and my closest friends covered me like a human blanket. Everyone did something, which meant I needed to do nothing. We had a private funeral for family and close friends where we performed the traditional Yoruba burial rites. Following that, we had a public memorial where four ministers of different faiths spoke. Carl Big Heart, my friend and teacher brought greetings and songs from the Lakota Nation. Minister Louis Farrakhan sent a message from the Nation of Islam. The hosting mininster was Rev. Willie Williams of Union Temple Baptist Church. Rev. Michael Beckwith gave the message. His wife, Rickie Byars Beckwith, sang all of Gemmia’s favorite songs. Tulani also sang a heart-piercing song. It was two words: “Thank You.” She sang it in different octaves, different languages, and she sang it a cappella.