I have not cried since I was told about the home going of my God mama... But I cried, endlessly, the last time I was with her, thanksgiving day, which was about a week before she transitioned. My tears were brought on because she lost her ability to speak coherently. She kept trying to answer me but most of her words were sounds and facial gestures. My God mama was a woman of words, many colorful hues of words. To see her struggle with one of her greatest gifts hurt like hell to watch. It was her words that got me through some of the darkest periods of my life. Her monthly handwritten cards, emails, and long conversations over the phone always left me with clarity, guidance, and peace of mind. Her advice was always delivered in the simplest of forms while remaining robust enough to move my spirit: "The battle is not yours." "All you have to do is your best." "I am so proud of you." "You are so strong." It was