Conversations with Marva

As a little girl, I looked at my mother as the strongest person I knew. I was scared to death of her, but as I grew up watching her work hard and handling things, I knew that strength would make sense one day. I doubted that I would inherit any of that strength, though. I was such an introvert and so quiet and to myself that I didn’t believe that strength could find its way past those very tall walls. But it did, and I now understand what it all means.

As an adult, I realize that my mother was not the only strong woman in my family. She was just modeling that which she had observed growing up. So when I look around at my granny, my mom, my aunts and cousins, all I see is the strength that all these women carry. Some may not recognize the power that they have inside, but it is there. It is inherent; one of those things that try as you might, you cannot ignore.

That strength showed up in volumes on Tuesday. Through all of our pain and heartache, that quiet strength could not be contained. It flowed freely between the women in my family. It held our hands and calmed our voices and quieted our spirits when we needed it most. That strength that the women in my family possess helped us to turn our faces to the skies above and pray for peace and justice. That strength helped us to say goodbye, even if we didn’t understand the reason behind leaving.

My mother is still the strongest person that I know, but her name is no longer alone on that list. I’ve added my granny, my aunts and my cousins…and myself. I know that strength that flows through them, flows through me. I know, after all that my life has been through the past few years, that I am stronger than I give myself credit for. I can’t take any credit for it; it was given to me as a gift.  A gift that, on Tuesday, tempered the storm that raged inside, and made me grasp that superwoman runs in my family.

‘Cause even when I’m a mess, I still put on a vest with an ‘S” on my chest,

~ M

Tags: Superwoman