Yesterday, I Cried_ Celebrating the Lessons of Living and Loving - Iyanla Vanzant [100]
She went to the funeral home an hour before the family was scheduled to arrive. The casket was open. John had grown a beard, which Rhonda thought made him look quite distinguished. He was wearing a blue suit, which made him look much older. “This is it,” she said to herself. “Let me put an end to this right now.” Rhonda knelt down on the cushioned stool at the side of the casket. She looked at the flowers, the walls, and the ceiling; she could not look at his face. She told him exactly how she felt.
“When they told me you had died, I danced. I’m sorry, but I did. I was so glad to be rid of you. But now that I see you lying here, I want you to know how really sorry I am.” She lowered her eyes to his face and remembered something she was learning in her priesthood training: Always be grateful.
“Before you go, I wanted to tell you thanks. Thank you for teaching me so much about myself. Thank you for showing me how to defend myself. Thank you for giving me all the time I needed to learn how to take care of myself. I know you didn’t know that’s what you were doing, and neither did I. Thank you for Nisa. She is my precious baby, and you don’t have to worry about her. You know I don’t like your mother, but I will make sure Nisa gets to know her. Thank you for all the help you gave me raising my children when their own fathers wouldn’t do it. Thank you for the time you got out of bed and came out in the snow to fix the flat tire on the car I would not let you drive. Thank you for teaching Damon how to use his fly. Thank you for trying.”
When Rhonda realized tears were rolling down her cheeks, she put her hand on John’s hand, took a deep breath, and continued.
“I forgive you. I forgive you. I forgive you. I know that you did the best you could. I forgive you for lying to me and for lying to yourself. I forgive you for abusing me and abusing yourself. I forgive you for all the women you slept with when we were together. I forgive you for leaving me when I was pregnant. I forgive you for all the things you accused me of doing. I forgive you for your inability to see how desperate and wounded I was. I forgive you for everything, and I ask that you forgive me. I forgive you, and I want you to rest.”
When Rhonda felt as if she had no more to say, she leaned over and kissed John’s cheek. John’s mother, Mildred, and her sister Dorothy were coming into the parlor as Rhonda was leaving. Mildred didn’t speak at all. Dorothy glared at Rhonda and said snidely, “Well, look what the cat dragged in! What are you supposed to be? We know you ain’t no nun.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, Millie. How are you, Aunt Dottie?” Before either could respond, Rhonda walked away.
She saw John’s wife standing at the entrance to the funeral home. “I’m Rhonda and I’m sorry for your loss. This is my number. If you ever want the children to get together, please call me.” Again, Rhonda walked away without waiting for a response. She stopped just outside the door to see if she had any more tears to shed, tears she did not want to take home. She didn’t.
Rhonda almost fainted when she saw a letter taped to the front door of her apartment. She knew the rent was due. But the letter was from the Department of Human Resources and requested that she report to the Federal Office of Investigation to answer charges of welfare fraud.
On her first visit to the office, Rhonda found out that Sharon, Nett’s sister, had placed a trace on one of Nett’s disability checks. An investigation revealed that the check had been signed and cashed at a time Nett was hospitalized. Rhonda had nothing to hide. She explained that she had cashed the check, just as she had cashed many of her mother’s checks, to pay the rent. She told the investigators that she had used the money from the check in question to rent an