December 18, 2007
On yesterday’s post, Lord Hannibal made a comment that made me go, “hmm…” (Remember Arsenio’s “Things that Make You Go Hmm?”) 
He made me think and reminded me of a quote attributed to Langston Hughes. Paraphrased roughly, Hughes says that “they’ve taken my blues and gone.” Sounds of Blackness added to it, “everybody wants to sing my blues/nobody wants to live my blues/for a long time, we’ve been living the blues.” Thanks LH for the snap back.
I wonder if those to whom Black culture has been exported would want to pay “the price of the ticket” (James Baldwin) to really sing with soul and understand the cost of it. “Anybody wanna trade places with me, the little Black girl?” Probably not.
LH? Langston Hughes? Aaahh, just a coinkidink I’m sure.
December 15, 2007
December 11, 2007
Reason 500, 600 million and one why I’m ready for 07 to be done. Last week while pops was in ICU, my little brother called and told me the doctor wanted to send his mom to hospice. Jackie had beaten breast cancer, and the doctor recently, like a few weeks ago, found another spot. She began chemo without radiation and a few weeks later, hospice? That seemed unreal, almost dream nightmare like. Totally from another planet.
We agreed to keep each other’s parents in prayer and didn’t talk again until this morning when he told me that Jackie was gone. Funny thing that I woke up around 3am and couldn’t go back to sleep until after 5am, the time that she died. My mind was racing and all I could pray was, “Dear God, help me to get back to sleep.” I fell apart in the dentist’s office the same way I’d fallen apart a few years ago when I heard that his grandfather had died and had already been buried. My heart sank.
I wanted to make you laugh today or make you think, but all I can do is pay tribute to the woman I know as “Mother.”
I met Jackie J. in 1992 when her son brought me home to meet her. She was a soon-to-be single mother of three, and I was dating her oldest son who was more like her friend. I dated her son through high school and college before we parted ways, but our bond was already well established by then. After all, I’d spent more hours of my teenage years in her home than my own. I’d traveled, loved, and lived with her family for years, and I was always at home. She loved me in a way that was uncommon, hoping the best for her son and me up until the time that he said “I do” to another. She was like her father in that regard whose last conversation with me was to plead for the sake of his grandson that I reconsider our relationship. That choice was out of my hands just as Jack’s passing was partially out of hers.
At this time of year, I recall all the years she was on my Christmas list and how like the rest of her children I was on hers. She let her son keep my dog Candy while I went away to college my first year, and she didn’t kill us when we ran up the bill so high that their phone was cut off. She made her son work to pay it and never chastised me for my part in the collect calls. She was an excellent baker and whatever cake I liked was sure to be on the Christmas table. She made sure I was included in every family event and was there to guide her son and me through our many ups and downs of just trying to grow up. Even after he and I were done, she made sure every chance she got to let me know that she still loved me and that I was still family.
A few weeks ago I was looking at old pictures and going down memory lane, saying goodbye to an era in my life, and who’s picture did I see at every turn but Ms. Jackie’s? She not only sacrificed to attend my college graduation, but she brought her mother and my little sister (her biological daughter) too. She was just as proud as my mom and dad on that day and her being there meant the world to me. I will never forget her presence there. Our smiles in the pictures were real. Her love for her other daughter was sincere. Her love for me made her whole family love me to the extent that I still can’t go home without running into one of my other family members and embracing in the mall, at Walmart, at weddings, or wherever we may find ourselves. It’s a love that has sometimes made me uncomfortable as I’ve moved on to other relationships, but it is also a love that persists to keep on giving. To an adoptee, I can’t tell you how much that means.
If I ever fall in love again, I will be sure to pray that my man’s mom will love me just like Jack. While some mothers can be possessive, jealous, and mean, Jack was always kind, supportive, and willing to let us make our own mistakes without getting involved. She is so rare that I have yet to meet another man’s mother like her. She just wanted her children to be happy and she always thought of how she would want others to treat her sons and daughter. She certainly lived the Godly life that some others only sing about in their songs. And as she entered into her new role of grandma a few years ago, she was as caring and compassionate as she’d always been with her own children. I know it’s possible to have no desire for a person but to sincerely wish you could just marry the family instead. I would’ve gladly taken vows to have and hold Jack as my mother-in-law until through death we did part. In fact, I recall that her son and I did exchange those vows on the day that we became each other’s firsts and vowed to love each other’s families as our own. I have never forgotten my vows. I have never forgotten Jack or Kee-Kee or Jamie or Kenny. One never forgets or stops loving family.
I saw Mother last at my little brother’s wedding. My ex’s younger brother and sister are still family to me, and his brother IS my brother. We talk all the time, even lived together for a while. When he got married in June, Mother was right there, cancer free and grooving on the dance floor. That was a happy and memorable day. Several years had passed since my last visit with her , but I would often call whenever my path led me home. And Thanksgiving past was no different. I called her cell to wish her well in the next phase of her battle but only got her voicemail. I should’ve known something then. I left her a message that all would be well and to tell her I love her.
I was on point on both counts. All is well with her soul, and love her I definitely do. For all of my tears that she dried, the nights that she listened, the fighting and arguing she put up with, the refereeing she did, the fighting to make ends meet all alone, the holding her family close and dear, her embracing a new daughter-in-law while never letting me go, her insistence on seeing good and not evil, her unending sacrifice, and innumerable memories that I will never forget–I sincerely love and will miss you Mother. I will be there with her children as she is laid to rest, always remembering how much she loved me and how she never stopped being my other mom.
Maybe we’ll laugh tomorrow. Until then, I must prepare to go down home.
December 9, 2007
Is it just me, or am I the only one who’s ready to drop kick 07 in the butt and say good riddance?
It’s been one hell of a year, and I do mean hell. This has been a tough year for almost everyone I know, moreso than any other regular year. I haven’t posted lately because by last Monday evening my dad was in a coma and then in ICU. By the time he was to be moved from ICU, I got a call that one of my other mothers was referred to hospice. That’s just this past week. I won’t even tell you about the whole year that included a near brush for my dad and the death of my dog in the same week, the theft of my car, and a whole litany of things that I prefer not to recall. This year has been TOUGH. This day has been tough, but my God’s grace is sufficient for me. I thank Him for that.
My dad checked himself out of the hospital and seems hellbent on self-destruction. He has refused treatment without which he will die. Yet, I feel at peace, maybe numb to it all as I am not compelled to make the journey home. I have prayed and I continue to pray. My mother can use all the prayer she can get. This is really taking its toll on her. I can tell and hear it in her voice. She has given her all to save her man who does not want to be saved. God is our only hope.
So, while I’m kicking , kissing, wishing, 07 goodbye, I solicit your prayers. I have to commit to keep my blog alive even on the days when I feel hardest hit. I have to recall that I’m more than a conqueror and reflect on how great is my God. Like David, I’ll have to encourage myself, and in the meantime, be good to me.
December 5, 2007
I’ve been hiding below the radar the past few days trying to collect my thoughts. I’ve gone to numerous check-ups as part of my take care of me and use this gosh darn insurance I pay for plan. So far, so good. I need two oral surgeries, one bone scan, and one outpatient procedure. Whoever said healthcare wasn’t the bomb? Lovin’ it!!
Sooooo I’ve also been kind of down about those who don’t have it. A friend has a parent with some serious health issues who only has Medicare, which covers a portion of costs. A previous hospital bill for one extended visit is $31,000 for the elderly parent on a fixed income.
What’s that you say? There’s always Medicaid to cover the remaining costs? Say it ain’t so!!!
Well, it AIN’T so unless one is so far below the poverty line that corn flakes are a luxury. The parent’s minimal saving acct., ownership of a vehicle, and wife’s minimal employment income of less than $25,000 a year make him too prosperous for Medicaid and just eligible enough to have to foot the bill for his latest stay on his own.
How much are we spending on the I.ra.q war each day again?
Hmm, can’t wait ’til election time.
On another, but somehow related, note, I was reading an article on bankrate.com about young early retirees. I think I wouldn’t mind setting myself up to do that by beginning now to live so far below my means that I only purchase the bare necessities. I’ll draft a plan and see how it goes.
