It’s 3 am, and that’s the hour my thoughts start pouring in. So, this may or may not sound like a ramble. My father-in-law is actively dying from ALS. It’s been a journey seeing his deterioration, from the earlier falls, lack of muscle function in his hands, to see him slowly lose his voice. The process is very familiar, and a bit triggering as I saw my mother deteriorate in a very similar way 2 years prior.
I don’t know how much you know about ALS (Lou Gherig’s disease), in short, it affects the nervous system and impacts physical muscle function. My father-in-law has been a fighter all of his life (literally). Boris Powell, Bo, aka THE CHAMP (Google him for further inspiration). He was a boxer in his earlier years, winning the infamous Golden Glove 🥊 boxing title. He was interviewed by KSDK at the start of his journey and he told them, “It's the biggest fight of my life. And I'm gonna win... I ain't just gonna lay down and accept it," Powell said. "I just ain't gonna lay down. I'm just not. I understand some people never beat it, but that's them. I'm different.”
In the beginning of his diagnosis I remember him up early mornings at the gym, running in the park. Almost as if he was training for another state title. He had a fire in him, a determination to see this through in a positive direction. Once things started to progress, it was only right he went into a 24 hour care facility. He could no longer feed himself, walk, or do basic daily tasks. But Bo wasn’t having that. He coerced a friend to take him home from the facility one day, and he never went back.
My husband would fuss, and tell him how he needed the 24-hour care, how he was being stubborn and disobedient. But Bo wasn’t trying to hear any of that. He wanted to be in the comfort of his own home. At first I just couldnt wrap my head around why this man wouldn’t want to be totally safe and looked after at all times. There would be days people couldn’t get over to his house to help him and he was there alone. But he took that, like a G (Original Gangsta).
When I saw him and looked him in the eyes. I finally understood it. Bo was being Bo. He wasn’t going out like that in a nursing home, surrounded by nurse techs and staff that hardly gave a shit. He was willing to risk it all and take the chance. There was NO playing it safe! If we are going out, we’re doing it our way! Being in his own home getting the care he needed by family members and friends when they were available to give it. I felt in that moment this rebellious act was a true testament of his character and his ability to say fuck the system. Bo was a lot like me in that way, fearless and never gave a shit what anybody had to say about what it was he wanted to do.
In true Bo fashion, he brought the community together! Donations, fundraisers ext. He was gifted a power chair that would get him in and out the house. They built him a walkway in front of the house so his motorized chair could get to and from. It reminds me of a quote in the Alchemist, “ And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you achieve it.” He wasn’t afraid to fail! He used his power to create the life he wanted for himself in his last days. Bo was a true Alchemist.
In my opinion, it's something to be said about a man that believes in something and stands firm on something. Rather that be himself or his faith, having the power to stay grounded and rooted in who he truly is. It takes a certain amount of discipline and strength. Not being swayed by the masses to conform to their standards. That is truly a revolutionary act. It would have been EASY for Bo to sit up in a nursing home, but Bo didn’t take the easy route. He took the route best suited for the belief he had in himself his entire life.
I went to see him yesterday, and I was able to use my healing touch, at a very slow and delicious pace to bring his body into awareness. I used rosemary oil, and glided my hands up and down the back of his neck in a slow circluar motion. It gave him life for a minute. His regular caretakers told me he would normally sit there, gazing into the sky, but on this day after his massage he had the energy to move, shift, and be extremely present. Of course that brought me so much joy.
Bo use to sit up and talk so much shit to me about my career. “The nasty girl.” Is what he use to call me. 😂 He‘d say, “You need to let me be on that podcast of yours! I got some stories I wanna tell.” No doubt he did. Bo loved sex just as much as the rest of us and I loved having conversations with him about it! I’ll miss our candid discussions and the no filter commentary of his many sexcapades.
Big Bo could transition any day now, which makes me sad. However I’m grateful for the understanding of self, and how this universe works. Energy can never be created nor destroyed, and I know his work here is coming to an end and he’ll be on another assignment soon. It brings me joy to think about the days I’ll sit up and tell Penelope about her grandad and grandma that have now transitioned. They were both a HOOT! They both lived life their way, rebellious and revolutionary as fuck.
Stand for something, or fall for anything. I’ll tell Penelope how Bo taught me that in his transition. 🙏🏾
REBELLION IS A REVOLUTIONARY ACT.
YOU DESERVE TO BELIEVE IN YOURSELF.
STAND FOR SOMETHING, OR FALL FOR ANYTHING.
I give thanks to the most high for my many blessings, lessons and levels of understanding. ✨✨✨✨✨
Please send a prayer up for my family.
Update: So crazy I was up at 3am with these feelings. I couldn’t sleep for the life of me. I’m sure that was Bo kissing me on my cheek in that moment. Rest up big man! Love you, always and forevaaa.
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