Forwards ever, backwards never.

"Forward Ever, Backwards Never."

(My father's favorite quote.)

Seko Benjamin Eric VArner
09/22/2010

It's one year later. I lost my writing voice a year ago. A "other-father" of mine read one of my blogs a few weeks ago and encouraged me to keep writing as he was touched by the sentiments. "It's publish-able; For-a-price publish-able." he encouraged knowing how money focused I can be at times. I couldn't raise the courage to admit to myself, or to him, that I lost my voice. I lost my voice when my Father passed.

As one who continues aspects of traditional Afrikan culture I've been 'Pouring Libation' for over 30 years now. When my friend Juan Orso passed, I poured libation. When Grover Washington Jr. passed I poured. When Sean Sharpe passed I poured. When Elder Clarence Motsongo Vincent passed I poured. In the shock of Mother Gloria's passing I poured. I actually pour libation daily. Sometimes frequently. When Dad passed I felt as if I were being poured. 40 days after Dad's funeral I visited his earthly womb. I poured. Today I just feel empty. I miss my Mother-Gloria, I miss my dad. I just feel depleted.

Today the Wifey and I were clicking away on seperate computers as the television that was watching us was showing Spike Lee's documentary about If the creek don't rise.." Last year Wifey and I returned from New Orleans on 9/21/2009. Dad crossed the bar on 09/22/2009. While I was emotionally battered from watching the difficult footage I remembered the depression that sacked me when Hurricane Katrina occurred.

When Katrina occured I became continually physically sick, was emotionally depleted, and felt such a loss of life. One of the sacrifices of having a connection with the ancestral world is at times I feel when people are sucked into that exsistence. I know my fellow Christians may not understand. I've come to believe that as one focuses upon Yeshua (Jesus), the ability to feel the connection to other aspects of the spiritual realm is removed. My fellow Conscious believers may understand. I simply felt those Americans, those African-descendants, those New Orleanians, those humans, those other parts of me being dragged 'unpeacefully' into the spiritual world.

As the television watched us the Wifey began reading out-loud, as she often does when she's on the computer, and I tried to begin to listen to her. She then stated "Papi' died on the anniversary of the Emanicipation Proclamation." I thought "He's finally free."

(photo - Untitled by Henry Louis Stephens 1863, A man reading the newspaper about the Emancipation Proclimation)

Yesterday I found a casette tape of a speech I did for Youth day at Providence United Church of Christ on 6/6/1993. The speech was called "What's the 411." In this speech I began by performing a public Libation ritual in the sanctury. I then discussed how as one becomes older one gets closer to GOD and one shouldn't be afraid of death. I actually stated "We should embrace death as that's when we become closer to God." Listening to the speech I laughed at the level of quasi 5% (Nation of Gods and Earths) Hip-Hop lingo I used to use, and how radical I must have seemed, and the level of devotion I had at that time to "improving the lives of people of African descent to improve the United States of America." I was a great speaker then. I was on the road to becoming a great person then. As I look at my current life, I feel empty. My passion is gone, Mother-Gloria is gone, my father is gone, my voice is gone.

Bless-fully I continued listening to the casette after my speech ended. After my message was the voice of my father. He prayed, sang hymns from the pulpit, and ended the Sunday service. T'was refreshing hearing his voice. T'was refreshing feeling his presence.

Today my father is free. A year ago he became free. I've learned that I needed to embrace his freedom. I needed to embrace his death as his freedom. I also sat down and cried like a baby after the Wifey stated "Papi died on the anniversaryof the Emancipation Proclamation." As I take my Mother to his gravesite today, as I pour libation today. I'll proclaim that he has been emancipated. He is free.
Fresh water keeps me well;

Fresh water opens the way;

Fresh water is my sustainer;

Fresh water is from above.

I thank GOD for Fresh Water.

Fresh water in life;

Fresh water in Yeshua;

Fresh water in the form of those who walked before us.

Fresh water in the form of Mother-Gloria,

Fresh water in the form of DJ Law (crossed 09/19/2010),

Fresh water in the form of my Father.

I prasie you, Almighty, for fresh water.

Ashee, Ashee, Amen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Postscript:

I think I found my voice again.

"Forward ever, backwards never."
As my father used to say.

Not just a hero, my hero.

What a difference a year makes. 10/19/2008 We shared a meal, family, and my pops. He received a cup, an Obama t-shirt, and other gifts. His birthday cake held two candles, a number seven followed by a number one. Today, one year later, his birthday cake was without candles. Today we shared a meal, some tears, and shared family.

Next to our table a young girl smiled widely as the waiters gathered around her table sing "Happy Birthday to you !" Later an older man surrounded by his family grinned as the waiters serenaded him. Each time our family clapped for the celebrant, then slowly hung our heads as the jubilance left. My son began..."All the children should say someting about Papi." My son shared a wisdom beyond his years, my daughter reluctantly passed. The four year old fraternal neice shared her memories, invoking a smile a relief from the moment. My elder fraternal neice passed. The adults chimed in.

We were cuting the cake, my brother and I, hoping to remember that the family remains intact in his physcial absence when I noticed that the cake I ordered held no candles. In place of the numbers seven and two were two dates............ Sunrise 10.19.1937, Sunset 09.22.2009. This year held no jubilation, this year held no joy. This year had no presents, this year was without his presence. The cake read "In rememberance of you." As I looked up to make a toast to my father I saw my elder-neice nestled under the arms of my mother as Mom was being comforted by my son. All were crying. The entire table wept together. I missed last year.

Last year my elder fraternal-neice stood a read prose created to celebrate Dad's 71st birthday. She ended by saying "You're a hero. Not just a hero, my hero." My sentiments, excatly. I miss my hero. (Press the play button for the below video).

Dr. Varner will always remain

Metropolitan Wesley A.M.E. Zion Church
1712 North Capitol Street, NW

Washington, D.C. 20002
202-483-3262

Rev. Dr. Heath Cheek, Sr. Pastor

Rev. Sharon Cheek, Co-Pastor

9/26/09

To the family of the late Rev. Dr. Samuel Lee Varner,

Words are truly inadequate to express the life of one who was truly blessed.
A servant of the Most High whose name Dr. Varner would convey and be an example in his living showing the lost The Way.

Royalty in stature yet he kept humility at his side, along with a beautiful woman he made his wife and two sons and a daughter to guide. His imprint has been left in those who knew him best the transition he makes is an honor for Dr. Varner has undoubtedly earned his rest.

He is among those great clouds of witnesses the spirits of the past, an honored elder an ancestor whose spirit will always last.

Words are truly inadequate and it is hard for me to express, yet I was one he did encourage to always do my best. Friendship is truly essential that I doubly share with his son, Seko-Ben, we experienced a great deal together and share the joy of calling each other friend.

To the family rest assured that the LORD feels your heart felt cries, when the days become overwhelming angels will be sent to dry your eyes. A portion of Dr. Varner will always remain in each and every heart and the lessons of love he taught, from your lives never let them part.

With the love of Christ,
Rev. Dr. Heath L. Cheek

My father is now my ancestor

Dr. Rev. Samuel Lee Varner: Sunrise 10/19/1937. Sunset 09/22/2009.

9.22.2009 I was awoken suddenly at 1:37 a.m. I couldn't determine what awoke me. I couldn't immediately return to sleep. 10 minutes or so later I was snoring. At 1:51 a.m. I'm awakened by a phone call. I hear my mother's muffled voice crying hysterically. My sister in-law then appears on the line saying "Seko, Papi's gone. He's gone."

I couldn't breathe......... "Are you saying that he's dead ? Is that what you're saying ?" hoping that Dad was moved to another room in the Rehab' Center. Life nudged me and I fought back throwing the telephone receiver at the mirror shocking my wife awake. "What, what is it Seko ?" I couldn't answer........Too busy screaming.......Too busy crying.....I wanted to break everything in sight. I ran out of the room yelling and grabbed a lamp on the way out hurling it towards the window. Rhonda's trying to calm me down while I run down the stairs and out of the house screaming. "Don't drive, don't get in the car" she begged as I ran down the streets of my neighborhood. I had to get somewhere where I couldn't break anything else. Finally I fell to my knees on a patch of grass near the main street. After a while I sobbingly returned to my house, dried my eyes, and gathered myself........ Until I looked into the worried face of my 7 year old daughter. The look on her face weakened me as I fell to the floor crying and trying to catch my breath. I couldn't look at my son, I didn't want to make eye contact with him as I couldn't be a strong supportive father at this moment in time. I hated that he saw me completely floored and unable to control myself. I tried to breathe to calm myself but I couldn't. I felt as if I lost the reason to breathe.

Eight hours ago I returned from an anniversary trip to New Orleans with my wife of twelve years. I planned to see Dad as soon as I returned, but became wrapped up in seeing a few counseling client's instead thinking that I'd be able to see Dad tomorrow. Tomorrow never came, tomorrow will never come. Enroute to the nursing home to hold the lifeless hand of my father I sent the text: "My father is now my ancestor."