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Our walk on this planet is only for a short span.

Our walk on this planet is only for a short span.

There is a sad aspect to visiting Grenada. There are people I wished I could have seen but it was not possible for the Lord already called them. But as I moved around, I received spiritual nudges that vividly resurrected their faces and often, the nostalgic surges came with such intensity that my eyes became watery.

Images of my mother always walked on my mind. I pictured her hugging me and pointing to the refrigerator where the frozen soursop juice waited for me. She knew how I enjoyed the taste of soursop and her face glowed with happiness when I indulged. God knows the desires of his children and he always touches the hearts of others to ensure continuity. My mother-in law had soursop juice for me.

I walked passed Frequente and Ma Rubes was alive once more. I pictured her and the occasion we stood under a plum tree and enjoyed a lively discussion. I recalled the occasion we visited my Mother’s grave and how she bent to clear bush that was growing near the headstone. I heard her words once more,

“ Georgiana , we cannot let bush cover you up.”

I had mental images of her engrossed in conversation with the people who sell near the Cigarette Factory on the Carenage. I spotted her walking briskly to a bus for the journey home. That was before she was lowered into her new home. She passed and though I cannot shake her hands, I still glimpsed a spiritual wave .

I paused at the foot of Cooper Hill to revisit Miss Teresita. She often peered from her Janet House to see who was picking up the mangoes that fell from her tree. While she walked with us, we had a warm relationship and she never got annoyed when I picked up her mangoes. Once, however, she gave me a subtle warning. She said to me,

“ Boy don’t eat all them mangoes, you go get bile.”

Bile?

I visited Gouyave on a Fish Friday night and once again I linked up with Mister Critchlow. We taught at the Saint John’s Christian Secondary School years ago and as I spotted the little shop where he once brought be to have fish and bakes, he appeared once more as fresh as the morning breeze. His spirit lived.

I stood at the gap that led to Pandy Beach. I looked at the verandah where Mister Redhead loved to sit and relax. It is amazing how the human mind can bring past images to life once more. It is a gift from God. No one sat in the verandah but my mind was able to put Mister Redhead right there on his chair. I noticed his smile as he greeted me. I was happy that I had made that connection but saddened by a touching reality:

Our walk on this planet is only for a short span. The huge white structures that line Cemetery Hill reinforces that point. Bodies lie there but God gave us the Spirit that can connect long after the bodies decompose.

I reached Pandy Beach and once more, I saw Miss Margaret’s mother. She always gave me a mango when she saw me. She left us, but I still saw her with her broomstick in the yard. And I heard her laugh long after she touched the soil.
Anthony Wendell DeRiggs.