...the DIVA of all divas

The year of 1998 was very hard for our family. Beginning in mid-1997, my mother started to lose sisters to death. It seemed as if death was hitting us at every corner. My Mahm comes from a HUGE family where brothers were the minority. However, I don’t think I will ever see a breed of women stronger than Powell/Rankins/Rabb sisters.

Thirteen years ago today, I walked into my job restless and tired. I had a 3 month old child. My first biological child. I was experiencing post-partum depression and I was grieving the loss of my cousin who was killed in March 1998. As soon as I walked into the office, my co-worker grabbed me and took me into the restroom. She looked at me with tears in her eyes. I’m totally unmoved by her tears. I did not want to seem insensitive, but I had been up all night with a crying child. Food was my worst enemy. Low & behold, it was hot! Out of the person that I am, I grabbed her shoulders and asked, “What is it?!” I was not expecting the words she said to me.

“Go home”. ~REALLY, girl, you don’t have to tell me twice—BYE! ~ “Go home and call your mother right away!” My disconnection to her tears finally became the foundation to my fears. Somebody was dead—AGAIN!  Who? Why? What? When? Where?

What I did know was I was not waiting to call my mother! I trumped to my desk, flung my items in my chair and dialed my Mahm’s number. For the life of me, I don’t know who answered my Mahm’s phone. All I remember was, “Darlene, you need to get home. Your Aunt Mildren is dead!” WTF?! HUH? I don’t know how I got home…I don’t know much of anything. Someone had called my husband and he was waiting for me. I was so dazed; I still don’t know all of what was communicated to me…not the DIVA?! Come on, we were just tripping because she was poking with me about Kennedi. I just saw her sitting on Auntie’s Rene bed being a comforter to her sister during the loss of her son. Aunt Mildren? Naw!

IMO--Mildren Powell Bracey

The reality was, my Auntee was dead. I had just gotten to a point in my life where I stayed alone at night while my husband went to work. He had to move me from our duplex because that one had too many memories of Keith. I couldn’t stay there. My stepson, DJ, Kennedi, and I were managing through my depression now, I’m depressed all over again. After Auntee’s funeral, my sister had to move in with me for a while. I was so depressed. I had my little baby. I don’t know how I am sane today.

Auntee, I think about her and laugh. Always smiling. Always talking. Nosey self ~lol~. I tell yawl, I have never seen anyone who could put 4 rollers (okay it was 6) in a head full of hair and it looks like she just left the salon. Her round face attached her full lips housed the voice of a songbird. She had the most beautiful voice. Too bad I can’t say the same for her dancing. Auntee taught everybody how to cha-cha.

If you didn’t know her, you would not think this woman was comical. She was too funny ~with her loud laugh~. When Auntee died, she took a piece of her surviving sisters with her, but also left them with a legacy of love. Auntee you are missed. You were love. You are loved!