EVERYTHING’S POSSIBLE
By Sondra Samuels
“I really don’t think life is about the I-could-have-beens. Life is only about the I-tried-to-do. I don’t mind the failure but I can’t imagine that I’d forgive myself if I didn’t try.”
— Nikki Giovanni
Yesterday I received a call from Tari, a friend and a member of the North Side’s famous Sudduth family clan. About 23 years ago, we lived together in Atlanta with a very close friend named Ernestine Joie Clark. We were all in college then.
Although I was thrilled that Tari had called, since we rarely talk, my excitement quickly morphed to sadness when she tenderly yet regretfully told me why she was calling. At 43 years old, single, with three daughters ages 21, 17 and 12, Ernestine — or Ernie, as we affectionately referred to her — was dead.
She had died suddenly of a cardiac tamponade, a condition where blood or other fluid fills up the space between the heart muscle and the sac surrounding it, putting too much pressure on the heart and causing it to work improperly.
I couldn’t believe it. I was in shock! How could this be?
Although she was overweight, Ernie hadn’t been sick. She was so young, so full of life, so effervescent. And what about her daughters, whom she absolutely adored — who would care for them? Although her oldest is currently in college and newly married with a young son (that Ernie often cared for), her two younger girls are still in middle and high school, a time when most budding young women need their mothers most.
And who could possibly take up Ernie’s space in life? She was a trip! Sassy, stylish and witty, Ernie was ever willing to tell you like it was to your face, forcing you to laugh at yourself in the process.
My goodness she was funny! She was also extremely hardworking, tirelessly holding down good jobs to support her girls in order to give them the best home and foundation she possibly could.
I remember her, a proud Liberian, pining for her carefree days as a child of privilege in the country before the war and her families’ escape to the U.S. In later years, she would use that privilege and her education to start a nonprofit focused on transforming the lives of the poorest of the poor in Liberia.
As part of that work, she was committed to shedding light on the plight of indigenous Liberians and the injustices they reaped after free African Americans (from which her family was descended) emigrated to Liberia beginning in 1821 as part of the “Back-to-Africa movement,” receiving free land and taking on the mantle of the “privileged class” that remains today.
As I contemplate Ernie’s death, I can’t help but reflect on Nikki Giovanni’s assertion that life is not about what “we-could-have-been,” but instead about what “we-tried-to-do” — endeavoring to make things better with more fear of not trying at all than of trying and failing.
I’m not sure, for example, if Ernie’s organization still exists, but I know what “she-tried-to-do” to bring about change for the poor in Liberia. I don’t know if relationships between indigenous Liberians and the descendants of freed slaves who emigrated there have gotten any better, but I know what “she-tried-to-do” through her self-effacing commitment to address such painful issues.
I don’t know who or what her daughters will become, but I know as a mother what “Ernie-tried-to-do.” Through her example, she tried to raise them to be God-loving, caring, generous, hardworking and compassionate women. And I think she did a pretty good job.
Last I talked to her oldest daughter Chanel, she was making plans along with her husband to raise her sisters. When I asked if she thought she could handle it, her response was, “Mom always prepared us for this. She said no matter what, she loved us, we had to love each other, and we had to stick together.”
As I contemplate my own mortality within the context of life as part of the Northside Community, I will live this day “trying-to-do” what is right for the children and families that need support the most. And I’ll do it with more fear of not having tried at all and less fear of being seen as a failure in my own eyes or the eyes of others.
Seems to me that this is the only way to live or die. Thank you, Ernie!
Sondra Samuels welcomes reader responses to sondra@city peace.org.
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