Tags
box, close, clothing, DOC, Elijah, holidays, imprisoned, loss, love, Old Testament, Prison, smells, spirit
The Ennis Quilt 1997
“And Elisha saw Elijah no more. And Elisha took hold of his own
clothes and tore them in two pieces. Then he took up Elijah’s
mantle that had fallen from him and went back.” 2 Kings 2:12-13
Just before comedian Bill Cosby was villified, and we learned more than we ever wanted to know about his past (why was one of America’s favorite sitcom dads spending so much time hanging out at the Playboy Mansion anyway?), Bill and wife Camille appeared on the PBS Newshour to discuss an exhibit of their personal art collection at the Smithsonian National Museum of African Art in Washington D.C. The Cosby’s had gathered many excellent pieces of African-American art over their lives. The exhibit paired art works from Africa with some of the Cosby’s collection to show the influence of the African cultures on African-American artists.
One of the pieces chosen for the display by Camille was a quilt that she had commissioned. Not only was the quilt a beautiful piece of art, but it had a very special meaning. Back in January 1997 the Cosby’s son Ennis had been murdered along a Los Angeles Highway. The quilt was made from the many favorite t-shirts that Ennis had left behind. It was their reminder of all their son had meant to them, of all the love they had felt and still felt for him. And though Camille did not discuss it during the interview on PBS, I pictured her taking that quilt and wrapping up in it from time to time when her sense of loss was strong – her son’s birthday, the day of his death. The t-·shirt quilt allowed her to envelope herself with a physical reminder of all that her son had meant to her.
Whenever I transitioned from county prison to state prison, the clothing that I had worn at county (t-shirts, boxers, socks, thermals) had to be either thrown out or sent home. In addition, the clothing that I had been wearing in court, that is, the clothing I was wearing when I was handcuffed and imprisoned, had to be sent home as well. Khakis, dress shirt, belt, tie, sport coat, dress shoes. So while I was being held incommunicado for many days in the state transitional facility, Sonia received a brown box of my clothing in the mail.
I wasn’t there to see her open the box, but as I can imagine Mrs. Cosby with her t-shirt quilt, I can picture Sonia opening the box and trying to figure out what all this stuff was. Touching my clothes. Lifting them from the box and missing me. Holding them close and wondering what I was going through. She told me later
that she found the t-shirt that I must have been wearing on transition day. It smelled like me, she said. She held it to her face and breathed in my familiar scent. At that point it had been six months of having no physical contact, of seeing each other only on opposite sides of a glass partition.
That was December, and Christmas was coming. It would be our first Christmas apart. I would not be able to talk to her on the phone for many weeks. And she would not be able to visit me until February. The holidays were very hard for Sonia. And on the worst of days she would put on my sport coat, wrap herself tightly in it,
and fall asleep at night feeling as close to me as she could.
Meanwhile, Sonia told me that the kids had raided my dresser and closet, especially my t-shirts. It was their way of feeling closer to me as well. And when another year went by and we spent our second Christmas apart, I sent Sonia one of my white t-shirts that I had worn for a day, because she said my scent had faded from the other clothes over the course of the year. The t-shirt I sent even had the white tag with my name and DOC number on it, which made her laugh and cry.
In the Old Testament, when Elijah comes to the end of his time on earth, he hands on his prophetic work to his self-selected understudy, Elisha. Elijah goes out in a blaze of style, hopping a ride on a flaming chariot pulled through the sky by horses of fire. And as Elijah ascends into heaven in a whirlwind, his mantle
(a loose-fitting sleeveless cloak) falls from his shoulders. Elisha watches the sky as Elijah and the chariot disappear, and then in grief he tears his own clothes into pieces. And there on the ground is Elijah’s mantle. Elisha picks it up and takes it with him. And he discovers that with the mantle, Elijah’s spirit is with him in powerful and reassuring ways.
Of course, a piece of clothing can in no way replace someone. It’s only fabric and thread. It’s only a reminder. But it is a very powerful reminder. It’s something that has been touched by the one you love. The one you miss. And in Sonia’s case, a simple white t-shirt gives her what she needs to help keep her going, to
hold on, as we wait for these years of being apart to come to an end.