a tribute to Kokum, lover and caregiver of so many children. . . . . .
Unless you can walk on or part water, you are in no position to judge.
These are the words that flowed garbled from grief from Thunder as he mourned the loss of his Kokum. She was the mother to him that his mother couldn’t be. Now, before the age of 50, she was dead, and he was again left in the world without a mom, this time as a teenager. Kokum was the one who taught him how to live, including this adage.
Thunder said a lot of things that day. He vowed he would grow up good. He would stay away from drugs. He would go to school. He promised he would meet Kokum in heaven.
It’s been almost a year since that day. Almost year since Thunder and a dozen or more other kids lost the woman who was their mother, caregiver, stand-in mother, grandma. My little bil, A, lost the last solid link he had to his biological family. All these mourning children taught me another thing that day: to never underestimate the power of loss. It debilitates sometimes; I’ve witnessed this in kids I love, in adults I love. It drives change sometimes, positive change.
Love. Don’t judge. This is what I learned from Thunder, who had learned it from Kokum, on the day of Kokum’s funeral. And becos those wise words came from a really really sad kid, I can’t forget them. I don’t know where Thunder is today. I don’t know if he’s kept his promises to his Kokum or if the loss of one more vital person in his life was too much to deal with. But even if he’s forgotten, I haven’t. Kokum’s words, basically the motto she built her life one, outlive her:
Unless you can walk on or part water, you are in no position to judge.
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