Tawanda Blake

I decided to take a drive on my lunch break… The heat was stiff and the sun shown so gracefully through my windshield as I made my way through the lights and then finally my destination. The heat beat against my skin with an intensifying authority. Hrmph, for some odd reason these days are the prettiest. I parked my car and began my walk through the graveled lot, beyond the spectators that stirred with anxiousness and disappointment. Some wore formal clothing in a sequence of purple, and some wore purple t-shirts with jeans. The looks in their eyes were of hurt and mourning. They hid their smiles with a painted solemn expression. I tried not to stare as I made my way into the crowded mortuary. I could only question myself silently, “Who, on earth, would kill this boy?” A kind Hispanic man offered me a seat once inside the room, and I sat down in a bunched corner of the pew, while glancing around the room that toppled with individuals that couldn’t get a seat. They lingered in the hallways and doorways just to get a glance. I’m still trying to figure this thing out, “Who, on earth, would murder this boy?” Someone began to sing a song that I cannot recall at the moment. However, her voice was beautiful. She purged from this meaningful place of remorse. The murmurs subsided –and claps spun around the room as the friends, family, and questionable foes of this young man began to applaud the songstress. I continued to glance around. I’ve had numerous experiences with funerals.  It’s never a place that anyone wants to be, and still, more than enough folks show up. I looked at his pictures that were blown up and placed on an easel beside the casket, and it was surreal to see the happy young man that showed all of his pearly whites for a selfie, so full of life, love, and energy, being reduced to just the picture… I sat and peered around the room again. The preacher then announced, “Family and friends may speak, but you only have two minutes to share your stories.” I listened although I knew that even though this was my way of paying respects, I had to scuttle back into the office much sooner than later-- but, I sat. From his cousins to his best friends, and even a car dealership owner, they could only describe this man as humble, kind, loving, and a wonderful father. It’s rare for teachers to come out and speak on a man’s behalf that was kind of a dealer in the streets. “He was a good father. He was very interactive in his daughter’s life. He brought her to school every. single. day. They would race down the hall, and you had better know if they weren’t racing, she was tired. He sat in class and helped with her work to keep her on track,” says the school teacher. “I remember Mat, and he wasn’t just a good guy. He would give you the shirt off his back. He didn’t just love. His spirit was of love. He didn’t even have to say a word,” said one of his friends.” The dealership owner spoke his piece, “Mat was in the transition stage of his life. He was tired. He had just asked me to teach him how to sell cars because he wanted a change. He was a good man. I only wish that I could’ve done more,” says the dealership owner. One by one, everyone spoke, and yet I couldn’t find a single reason that this young man should’ve lost his life so tragically.

Why do we love and hate at the same time? Why do we feel that we should get a piece of what someone else is working for regardless of the technicalities and legalities? He, they, don’t deserve to die. Love is beyond physical. Love supports and uplifts. It’s not envious, prejudice, or too proud. Love does not covet. Love does not rob. Love does not steal. Love does not hurt---unfortunately, people do hurt other people. I don’t understand why. Father’s day is nearing, and the tragedies continue to mount like bodies in the Pearl Harbor attack because brother is against brother, and friend is against friend.  Hate…There is no redemption in hatred, only love. There is no peace in hatred, but there is in love. Through broken bones, flawed and confused souls, you should love in spite of what you’ve been taught. You should love beyond egocentricity and conceit. I know that love can change a man. Love can change any living thing. You stand with your brother in times of inequity. You stand with your brother through the tough seasons as well as the triumphant moments. Love does not contend. Love just is… and yet, it’s so hard to do. How deep is it? Can man only love thy neighbor for the benefit of the sin, which is greed… So, how deep is it? How deep is your love?
RIP Matthew
06/19/1988- 06/19/2015