With the bearing of Psalms 143: 8
God…Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love,
for I put my trust in you.
Show me the way I should go,
for to you I lift up my soul…
With some of the sentiments of the great poet,
Edna St. Vincent Millay…
We are not resigned to let go of the spices of your humor; Your keen wit, earnest wisdom…the music of your laughter. We’ll not lean the other way from sweet reflections of your “snuggled moments” with comments in church or in crowds.
We never will release the vertical sun rays in your smile and your way of encouraging-the-practical in our daily struggle or how you made special salutations for birthdays and how priceless now your voice was in song.
We’ll not release to put away your hereditary loving eyes and careful ears for all of us scanning voices for bright or overcast days.
Life with you had a sweet and tender style; you had strong shoulders with bearing from family paths on 135th Street Harlem to the North Bronx and to New Rochelle. Father’s side from Dinwiddle County, Virginia, Mother’s Creek Indian, the Boroughs family bringing a flavored and a mighty presence.
You brought the muse and the music of your family to us.
We are not resigned to forget the lifetime you spent in church. The thousands of books flowing through your hands that you used; the world travels showing what progressive parents, women, mother’s do. We will not forget your service and your dedication to your sorority AKA and to Mrs. Wilson who mentored you for that.
Because we really had you, Mercedes Rowe when we were “gifted enough” to — have had you.
Because we are certain that you would never leave us…even now: We will ask of the God that you served each week of your life and the Jesus, the chief intercessor that you and Mr. Rowe gave your praises to, to bring us in the span of our lives your tender assurances and courage… and of course “word of your unfailing love, for we put our trust in you O’ God…Show us the way we should go, from here for to you we lift up our souls.”