My Foundation: Love, Language, and Music

My roots and love for music were planted in this church.  No matter what we did all week we were here every Sunday, Tuesday, and Friday.  You would find the Jones Family at Tabernacle Church of God in Christ in Benton Harbor, MI.  My dad LOVED this place.  My dad was a Deacon at the church, and very passionate about his service.  I was involved in everything here. It hurt him dearly when he got too ill to attend weekly worship.  Even though he couldn’t attend, my family and I would still be in attendance.

We had our own language.  No, seriously it was a code language.  It developed overtime.  It began with the look.  You know the “look?”  That I can hear you, and you ain’t doing what you’re supposed to be doing look.  It amazed me that I was sitting behind him, I mean multiple pews back, and he could hear me talking.  My dad didn’t play.  My dad may have been strict, but he trusted me to make the right decisions.  He instilled the importance of morals, and values within his children from the very beginning.

After my dad passed I felt guilty because I had all of this free time, because I was his caregiver.  I found myself feeling lost the first couple of months after he passed.  I was unsure of what I wanted to do with this second phase of my life, which seemed to come upon me instantly.  I decided to revisit a love that we both shared.  Music.

I went back to writing, and recording because that’s where I found my peace.  The drive was there to complete things that I also wanted to do, and the plan is to release music dedicated to him.

I feel it’s so important to release your grief.  I used to overthink the process of dealing with my grief.  It finally got to the point where I heard the Spirit say, “Stop It.”  Those tears instantly stopped when I heard that voice in the middle of a meltdown.  I decided to let go, and let God.  Only He could direct me through this process of grief. If not, I could become angry, bitter, broken, and mad for no reason.  Simply because I haven’t released those bottled feelings.  Death is apart of life, and even though my father discussed it often I still wasn’t prepared for the life after without him.  I’m not sure you can ever be prepared for the feelings that come after losing someone that meant so much to you.

I have my moments.  I’m human.  I will say that I do enjoy when a memory pops up in my head and I’m able to text my siblings, and we can share that moment together.  It’s cleansing.  You need “maintenance,” because life will continue, and things will continue to pile up.

On the exterior a person can seem to be doing okay.  Exuding this unbelievable strength, and you’re probably thinking, can I have just an ounce of that.  Please know that I have those times when I am weak on the inside, but my faith definitely keeps me.