My mother in law used to say, especially when it came to Melvin and I, "Two blocks of ice will never melt." Think about it. Melting is always a good sign unless you are supposed to be frigid, and Frosty the Snow man we ain't. When he was cold, I was hot, when I was cold he was hot, thus we could always melt in the others arms.
Our middle son, Fire is always on. He bears the look and has the heart of a cherub, but his mind is always on fire. What's the next move, I've got to watch my back and your back and his back and our back, just always pinging, another Melvin word.
When Fire was a boy he clung to me like a comfortable sweater. He shared all of his ideas, hopes, dreams and gossip with me. None of our sons could ever lie to us, but to this day if I look at Fire a certain way, he spills the beans. "See Ma, this is what happened..." Every mother has that child that will follow you to the bathroom and continue their conversation with you, non stop, no matter what you're doing, that's Fire. On those summer days when the boys and their friends would be in the yard playing, I would hear the teasing and taunting that would, eventually, get around to Fire. He would laugh it off and continue playing, but in my mind I would be praying that they left him alone, because, like me, his rage is spontaneous and before you know it he on you worse than a full grown BAD habit ready to tear you limb from limb, and when the monster subsides and the fire dies down his heart is broken by the act of his anger. Fire.
His passions run deep and when he is at peace the warmth of his glow draws you to him, he keeps our family together and bridges the gaps when needed.
When Melvin transitioned, Fire was at work and his uncle, my brother, had to get him. No one could touch him, but me and even that was difficult. As he entered the room, combustion, a discharge of flames had ignited and just when his arms begun to tear down fixtures in the room, "Fire, not now!" I screamed and as suddenly as the fire started, they immediately flickered to embers and all was calm and grief was the order of the wee hour of that morning. Weeping endured for many nights, yet it is the God in Fire who helped bring joy in the morning.
And there appeared unto them cloven tongues like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them.
Acts 2:3
28 days left.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Melvin's Song
Every since I was a little girl I have written songs. My mother said she would have to sit and listen to 4 to 5 page songs that seemed to go on forever. Bless her heart. My father sang with the Temptations before they became Temptations and were just a group of boys singing on the street corners of Alabama.
When we lived in California, my father discovered that me, my brother, and two cousins could really harmonize and he set out to make us the next musical sensation. He'd won an electric guitar and amplifier on The Price is Right and purchased a microphone. Everyday after school we all met at our house and would practice singing songs my father had penned. Unfortunately our little group disbanded when we moved to Alabama. Thus, amateur song writing is in my blood.
I have penned several christian songs that I sing to myself now, but used to sing for Melvin. He would listen to each new song so intently and say, "Poo, we need to record those little songs." Something in his voice would let me know he was humoring me, but I adored the fact that he listened.
I wrote this song to him in March of 2006.
When we lived in California, my father discovered that me, my brother, and two cousins could really harmonize and he set out to make us the next musical sensation. He'd won an electric guitar and amplifier on The Price is Right and purchased a microphone. Everyday after school we all met at our house and would practice singing songs my father had penned. Unfortunately our little group disbanded when we moved to Alabama. Thus, amateur song writing is in my blood.
I have penned several christian songs that I sing to myself now, but used to sing for Melvin. He would listen to each new song so intently and say, "Poo, we need to record those little songs." Something in his voice would let me know he was humoring me, but I adored the fact that he listened.
I wrote this song to him in March of 2006.
Melvin's Song
If you knew my Melvin,
the way I know my Melvin,
you too would truly see,
that me and my Melvin,
loved inseparably,
truly, deeply, completely.
His eyes, how they sparkled
and his smile filled with glee,
for me no one else will there be,
'Cause me and my Melvin loved inseparably,
truly, deeply, completely.
Gone February,
left us all here to grieve,
someday together we'll be,
'Cause me and my Melvin loved inseparably,
truly, deeply, completely.
humming...
'Cause me and my Melvin loved inseparably,
truly, deeply, completely.
Tomorrow
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Regression
Today started like any other, new, Saturday for me, I forced myself to sleep in a little later than usual. I managed to lay still until about 7:00. Then I felt the nasal pressure affecting my smile and knew I had to make good on the promise I gave my sister in law that I would be in a "Doc in the Box" by 8:00. I decided breakfast and a cup of coffee would be required, goodness knows how long a doctor visit would take. I was half heartily watching a movie on Lifetime, when certain aspects of the program caught my attention I became entranced by the story line. A man was imprisoned for a crime, he said, he did not commit. An attorney had reviewed his case and asked his paralegal to begin researching the old case file. Before they could begin, the attorney died. Now the focal point of the story, by it's title, "Wrongly Accused," or something like that was about the 22 year imprisonment of this innocent man, I, related to the paralegal. At the onset she had lost two husbands to death. This made her squeamish of funerals, so she sat outside the church of her attorney friends memorial, my best friends son past recently, I could only get as close as the church parking lot. This was an outspoken, go-getter woman with an outward facade of invincibly, behind closed doors the fetal position was her solace. I live in that circle.
At any rate she meets a man, they fall in love and he asks her to marry him. She is reluctant because of her past experience, and of course other twists from her youth, and, he needs an organ, heart, kidney or the like, I missed that part I didn't want my french toast to burn. She finally accepts, they marry, he supports her efforts on behalf of the innocent man and life is pretty good. He finally gets the transplant, they start to make plans, then she wakes up one morning to find him laying next to her eyes open looking in the direction of the left (embracing or revisiting the past). My average new morning turned to an old familiar past and I heard a bellow of mourning pierce my solitude and I was crying uncontrollably as I did for eight months straight several times a day five years ago. One of my best friends, from my BFF from high school triangle, once told my that purging myself of the grief through tears was good and let it flow, so I do. I always feel better afterward. This time I fell to my knees and praised God and asked for the continued protection of my loved ones and some enemies, I ain't so good to pray for all my snakes yet, but he ain't done wit' me... I got up, finished the movie, dressed, saw the doc, it's just a sinus infection.
When Melvin passed, he was looking to the right, this is embracing and going forward to the future. That gives me comfort.
Tomorrow
At any rate she meets a man, they fall in love and he asks her to marry him. She is reluctant because of her past experience, and of course other twists from her youth, and, he needs an organ, heart, kidney or the like, I missed that part I didn't want my french toast to burn. She finally accepts, they marry, he supports her efforts on behalf of the innocent man and life is pretty good. He finally gets the transplant, they start to make plans, then she wakes up one morning to find him laying next to her eyes open looking in the direction of the left (embracing or revisiting the past). My average new morning turned to an old familiar past and I heard a bellow of mourning pierce my solitude and I was crying uncontrollably as I did for eight months straight several times a day five years ago. One of my best friends, from my BFF from high school triangle, once told my that purging myself of the grief through tears was good and let it flow, so I do. I always feel better afterward. This time I fell to my knees and praised God and asked for the continued protection of my loved ones and some enemies, I ain't so good to pray for all my snakes yet, but he ain't done wit' me... I got up, finished the movie, dressed, saw the doc, it's just a sinus infection.
When Melvin passed, he was looking to the right, this is embracing and going forward to the future. That gives me comfort.
Tomorrow
Friday, January 28, 2011
A Rushing Mighty Wind
...And suddenly there came a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting. Acts 2:2.
And so it is with our youngest son, Wind. He was the happiest, silliest most adorable little bird in the nest. Melvin always referred to the boys as his birds. "Me and my birds..." he would say. Wind had a pale face, pink ears and bewildered eyes like giant marbles, he was just too cute. The first time I arrived at their home, he called me to the bottom of the stairs and said, "You gone marry my daddy?" I smiled and said, "I don't know." With that he scurried upstairs to tell Fire and Earth, "She gone marry daddy." Wind had this infectious giggle that prompted one to tickle him just to hear it again. He was the baby, but always attune to what was going on around him. His observations would lie dormant and just when you thought he was unaware of a situation, he would, abashedly state his point of view. Adults do not always want to hear the reproof of a child, for his comments would sometimes offend, no matter how true they were, so, Wind would be reprimanded, not for his insightfulness, but for stepping out of a child's place. Behind closed doors Melvin and I would marvel at how astute he was, and how unaware he was of his gift. To this day I don't think he realizes the full measure of his acumen.
Of my three sons, Wind knows me best. When Melvin went to California for three weeks to take care of his sister, Wind came by to either cook, clean, talk or just spend time with me. "Ma, I promised Da I would take care of you," and he did. There was only one day I didn't see him, and that was when his daughter was born.
When Da told him I was ill, he would come and hold my hand until I fell asleep or Melvin would say, "You can let her go now, son." Whenever he's here he knows just what I needs to be done to make my life happier and keep my life sane.
After Melvin went home all three of our sons stayed with me. Wind would sing to me. If he was mopping the kitchen he would be singing; scrubbing the shower walls, singing; cooking, singing. In between his songs he would come and put his humorous twist on something Earth or Fire did or said and tale does not conclude until I am weak with laughter. When Melvin left I couldn't sleep, none of us slept. We would call one another at two, three, four, five in the morning. The calls would come just at the right moment, the Hello greeting would be tinged with sorrow or nasal labored. Sometimes the boys would take me riding in the night, in silence, as if we were trying to find Da.
Death is only sad to the living and after a while Wind, the happiest of all my children, stopped smiling, ceased laughing and it tore me to slithers, for there was nothing I could do, but I prayed and I pray.
Wind has three children of his own now, all of whom bare a semblance of him, but the youngest is his clone, I am in awe each time I see him. When he is being chastised, he's still grinning, Wind was the exact same.
It was Wind and I who stood hapless as Melvin's soul glimmered to Papa, Mu and Daddy.
...tommorrow...
And so it is with our youngest son, Wind. He was the happiest, silliest most adorable little bird in the nest. Melvin always referred to the boys as his birds. "Me and my birds..." he would say. Wind had a pale face, pink ears and bewildered eyes like giant marbles, he was just too cute. The first time I arrived at their home, he called me to the bottom of the stairs and said, "You gone marry my daddy?" I smiled and said, "I don't know." With that he scurried upstairs to tell Fire and Earth, "She gone marry daddy." Wind had this infectious giggle that prompted one to tickle him just to hear it again. He was the baby, but always attune to what was going on around him. His observations would lie dormant and just when you thought he was unaware of a situation, he would, abashedly state his point of view. Adults do not always want to hear the reproof of a child, for his comments would sometimes offend, no matter how true they were, so, Wind would be reprimanded, not for his insightfulness, but for stepping out of a child's place. Behind closed doors Melvin and I would marvel at how astute he was, and how unaware he was of his gift. To this day I don't think he realizes the full measure of his acumen.
Of my three sons, Wind knows me best. When Melvin went to California for three weeks to take care of his sister, Wind came by to either cook, clean, talk or just spend time with me. "Ma, I promised Da I would take care of you," and he did. There was only one day I didn't see him, and that was when his daughter was born.
When Da told him I was ill, he would come and hold my hand until I fell asleep or Melvin would say, "You can let her go now, son." Whenever he's here he knows just what I needs to be done to make my life happier and keep my life sane.
After Melvin went home all three of our sons stayed with me. Wind would sing to me. If he was mopping the kitchen he would be singing; scrubbing the shower walls, singing; cooking, singing. In between his songs he would come and put his humorous twist on something Earth or Fire did or said and tale does not conclude until I am weak with laughter. When Melvin left I couldn't sleep, none of us slept. We would call one another at two, three, four, five in the morning. The calls would come just at the right moment, the Hello greeting would be tinged with sorrow or nasal labored. Sometimes the boys would take me riding in the night, in silence, as if we were trying to find Da.
Death is only sad to the living and after a while Wind, the happiest of all my children, stopped smiling, ceased laughing and it tore me to slithers, for there was nothing I could do, but I prayed and I pray.
Wind has three children of his own now, all of whom bare a semblance of him, but the youngest is his clone, I am in awe each time I see him. When he is being chastised, he's still grinning, Wind was the exact same.
It was Wind and I who stood hapless as Melvin's soul glimmered to Papa, Mu and Daddy.
...tommorrow...
Thursday, January 27, 2011
That House
After Melvin and I were, officially, married we started making plans for our future. He was retired, the children were grown, I was at the threshold of retirement, we could finally consume the fruits of our labor. We both loved traveling and meeting people, so journeys to other countries would be a given. Between us we'd bought four homes and an innumerable amount of cars, I know Earth had at least five, yet I had never had one built to my specification and Melvin wanted me to have my dream home. I was not enamored with the idea, but if that's what my man wants for me, how can I object. We began to window shop anytime we were out driving. If we passed a nice area or subdivision he would turn in and we'd gaze and critique, none caught my fancy.
One day while driving near highway 150, Melvin said, "Poo, lets look over here, they'll let you tell 'em what you want and how you want your house built." I reluctantly said okay and we began the laborious banter of how they look, is that the size, it's not a corner lot and on and on. He finally saw one that beckoned, Open House, Come On In. It was, truly, not something I wanted, but Melvin insisted we go in and look around. It was not completed, but a work in progress. Melvin walked all around the interior, upstairs, downstairs, the backyard and the basement. I was snobbishly peering into the rooms, but my attention was on the grey, brick cathedral ceiling home across the street. "Poo this would be a perfect home for Joe, my brother, to raise his family." "Yeah," I said still not paying attention. I guess he was satisfied with home window shopping for that day, because we drove home after that one walk through.
Afterward I became ill and between taking care of me and the grandchildren that kept coming,
we never purchased my dream home and that's okay, it would have been, yet another material possession to maintain. After Melvin transitioned I was happy we didn't move, I wouldn't have been able to afford it alone.
My brother, on the other hand, needed to move, his growing family had outgrown their modest home in the Oaks and were shopping around for a good deal. My brother is a child of obedience, so though a more spacious domain was becoming a necessity, he was not going to rush into making such a large, long term purchase.
He and his wife looked and searched, placed bids, signed contracts and for some reason or another the deals would fall through. Never dismayed, he'd say, "I guess that wasn't the one." One day he called me and told me his fraternity brother, who was a realtor, wanted them to peruse a new subdivision, no promises, just check it out. They went, they saw, they liked, they made the deal. When it was time to close my brother came over, with such delight and told me he wanted me to take the virtual tour of the home. He was so excited and his glee filtered over to me. We sat down, he started the tour and was going on about the home, the upstairs, downstairs, backyard and basement. I could hardly catch my breath, the tears were streaming down my face. "What's wrong, What's wrong?" my brother kept asking, but I couldn't get the words out. I asked him to go back to the first picture of the foyer and from there I began to tell him about the house. I said, "Isn't there a funny little nook at the top of the stairs?" "Yes." "And isn't there a grey, brick cathedral ceiling home across the street?" "Yes." By now I was weeping uncontrollably. "Melvin picked this house for y'all before he left." That's when my brother understood the reason the other homes never came to fruition."This is the one," he said. When we told his family the story, they were at peace as well. After they settled into the new home I asked one of my nieces if she was ever afraid in their new surroundings and she said, "No, Uncle Melvin picked this house."
Tomorrow...
One day while driving near highway 150, Melvin said, "Poo, lets look over here, they'll let you tell 'em what you want and how you want your house built." I reluctantly said okay and we began the laborious banter of how they look, is that the size, it's not a corner lot and on and on. He finally saw one that beckoned, Open House, Come On In. It was, truly, not something I wanted, but Melvin insisted we go in and look around. It was not completed, but a work in progress. Melvin walked all around the interior, upstairs, downstairs, the backyard and the basement. I was snobbishly peering into the rooms, but my attention was on the grey, brick cathedral ceiling home across the street. "Poo this would be a perfect home for Joe, my brother, to raise his family." "Yeah," I said still not paying attention. I guess he was satisfied with home window shopping for that day, because we drove home after that one walk through.
Afterward I became ill and between taking care of me and the grandchildren that kept coming,
we never purchased my dream home and that's okay, it would have been, yet another material possession to maintain. After Melvin transitioned I was happy we didn't move, I wouldn't have been able to afford it alone.
My brother, on the other hand, needed to move, his growing family had outgrown their modest home in the Oaks and were shopping around for a good deal. My brother is a child of obedience, so though a more spacious domain was becoming a necessity, he was not going to rush into making such a large, long term purchase.
He and his wife looked and searched, placed bids, signed contracts and for some reason or another the deals would fall through. Never dismayed, he'd say, "I guess that wasn't the one." One day he called me and told me his fraternity brother, who was a realtor, wanted them to peruse a new subdivision, no promises, just check it out. They went, they saw, they liked, they made the deal. When it was time to close my brother came over, with such delight and told me he wanted me to take the virtual tour of the home. He was so excited and his glee filtered over to me. We sat down, he started the tour and was going on about the home, the upstairs, downstairs, backyard and basement. I could hardly catch my breath, the tears were streaming down my face. "What's wrong, What's wrong?" my brother kept asking, but I couldn't get the words out. I asked him to go back to the first picture of the foyer and from there I began to tell him about the house. I said, "Isn't there a funny little nook at the top of the stairs?" "Yes." "And isn't there a grey, brick cathedral ceiling home across the street?" "Yes." By now I was weeping uncontrollably. "Melvin picked this house for y'all before he left." That's when my brother understood the reason the other homes never came to fruition."This is the one," he said. When we told his family the story, they were at peace as well. After they settled into the new home I asked one of my nieces if she was ever afraid in their new surroundings and she said, "No, Uncle Melvin picked this house."
Tomorrow...
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
The Boy
I vicariously lived and grew up in Westfield, the boyhood home of my beloved. Most of the people who lived in this town were connected in some way to US Steel, for this reason I would tease my husband and his siblings and say, "Westfield was a pilot city." Listening to their stories,the amenities they had were not available in neighboring towns at the time, i.e independent garbage and sewage collection a commissary and a few other things I can't recall.
Melvin was the third of seven children, two boys and five girls. His brother was older and off making his mark in the world so Melvin was surrounded by girls. His sisters would tell me how mischievous he was and how they tried, unsuccessfully, boss him. In rebellion he would hide their dolls or cut the dolls hair, taunt their girl friends when they came to visit and kiss them on the forehead so hard that a red mark would appear, this would become a trademark kiss given to me, my children and his younger sisters.
What he loved most was playing underneath the house with his toy soldiers and cars and going over to Papa's house. Papa was his granddad. Being the only boy at home, this was his great escape where he could avoid chores, have time away from the girls and eat Mrs. Della's cooking. He loved his family and I believe being raised with so many girls made his heart more compassionate to the sensitivity of a woman's heart, but Papa was larger than life to him. He loved to tell the story of how he would sell peanuts for his grandad at the balls games and him being a little boy a man once took a bag of his peanuts and did not pay him. He said Papa, who walked with a cane, saw the incident and told the man to pay him, the man still refused. Now Papa was a quiet man, as was Melvin's dad, so without saying a word Papa came across that mans head with the cane, suffice to say, the peanuts were paid for, no one said a word. Melvin looked on with awe. Papa sat back down and continued watching the game. This act of courage was not wasted on Melvin and served him well when he had to defend himself from a bully. His growth spurt was delayed so, for a while, he was smaller than some of the other boys, one fellow took his lack of physical stature for granted and tried to bully him on the walk home from school. Melvin said he took a piece of two by four and hid it in the bushes on the path home, when the bully came at him he lead the boy right to the two by four and wailed on his head, after that, his size became a misnomer and the bullies left him alone. They would say, "better not mess with Pep, a nickname he earned from eating a bunch of peppers he thought were fruit, he got sticks hid out everywhere to knock you out."
The little mischievous boy was also a ladies man. He and his friends would peer through the windows of girls in their little town to see if they could catch them undressing... and he remembered, fondly, his first tryst with the neighborhood fast girl.
Once when we attended a funeral of one of his classmates, afterward, all I could hear was his female schoolmates chirping, "Heeeeyyy Pep, Heeeeyyy Pep," while looking at him impishly. I would stand back and watch the spectacle and imagine that's how it was when he was a boy. He'd drop his head to the side and say, "Hey there or Hey Baby," give them a hug and fain interest in what they were saying. If he said, Sho' Nuff?" that was code for he ain't heard a word they said and Poo rescue me. He was a funny man and a precocious little boy.
Tomorrow.
Melvin was the third of seven children, two boys and five girls. His brother was older and off making his mark in the world so Melvin was surrounded by girls. His sisters would tell me how mischievous he was and how they tried, unsuccessfully, boss him. In rebellion he would hide their dolls or cut the dolls hair, taunt their girl friends when they came to visit and kiss them on the forehead so hard that a red mark would appear, this would become a trademark kiss given to me, my children and his younger sisters.
What he loved most was playing underneath the house with his toy soldiers and cars and going over to Papa's house. Papa was his granddad. Being the only boy at home, this was his great escape where he could avoid chores, have time away from the girls and eat Mrs. Della's cooking. He loved his family and I believe being raised with so many girls made his heart more compassionate to the sensitivity of a woman's heart, but Papa was larger than life to him. He loved to tell the story of how he would sell peanuts for his grandad at the balls games and him being a little boy a man once took a bag of his peanuts and did not pay him. He said Papa, who walked with a cane, saw the incident and told the man to pay him, the man still refused. Now Papa was a quiet man, as was Melvin's dad, so without saying a word Papa came across that mans head with the cane, suffice to say, the peanuts were paid for, no one said a word. Melvin looked on with awe. Papa sat back down and continued watching the game. This act of courage was not wasted on Melvin and served him well when he had to defend himself from a bully. His growth spurt was delayed so, for a while, he was smaller than some of the other boys, one fellow took his lack of physical stature for granted and tried to bully him on the walk home from school. Melvin said he took a piece of two by four and hid it in the bushes on the path home, when the bully came at him he lead the boy right to the two by four and wailed on his head, after that, his size became a misnomer and the bullies left him alone. They would say, "better not mess with Pep, a nickname he earned from eating a bunch of peppers he thought were fruit, he got sticks hid out everywhere to knock you out."
The little mischievous boy was also a ladies man. He and his friends would peer through the windows of girls in their little town to see if they could catch them undressing... and he remembered, fondly, his first tryst with the neighborhood fast girl.
Once when we attended a funeral of one of his classmates, afterward, all I could hear was his female schoolmates chirping, "Heeeeyyy Pep, Heeeeyyy Pep," while looking at him impishly. I would stand back and watch the spectacle and imagine that's how it was when he was a boy. He'd drop his head to the side and say, "Hey there or Hey Baby," give them a hug and fain interest in what they were saying. If he said, Sho' Nuff?" that was code for he ain't heard a word they said and Poo rescue me. He was a funny man and a precocious little boy.
Tomorrow.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Obedience
Many of the decisions I have made in my life have been, unfavorable, unpopular and left of the norm and this has never affected me. Quite frankly, sometimes, I don't fully ascertain what I'm doing, but I've come to accept obedience. Our culture has lead us to theorize that the mere word obey is an affront to our character and demeaning to the individual that we are, crap, all crap. Obedience is why some of us have held firm to our minds in the midst of crisis, obedience is why many of us prosper in poor economic downturns, obedience is why I can look back and say, "I am so glad I didn't give up and give in." It is easy to do the wrong thing, doing what's right is the challenge, I 've always enjoyed a good challenge.
As children we obey our parents:
"Don't run in the street, you might get hit by a car!" It didn't sink in until you saw someone get hit and injured.
"Don't touch that stove, it's hot." Then that throbbing blister makes you a believer.
"You better get your lesson in school, so you can take care of yourself." Doesn't quite sink in until,
upon entering that job interview you realize, your resume and skills don't quite measure up.
On our jobs we obey the rules and regulations or suffer the consequences.
I have obeyed parents and policy, and I do this because of my obedience to God.
I once asked one of my spiritual mentors, "How do you know when God is urging you to heed his calling?' she told me, and I paraphrase, that if there is doubt, insecurity a lingering, nagging feeling that worries you to sleeplessness, that's the thing you should avoid. God's will is none of these things, we know he is not the author of confusion, but of peace, if there is no peace, it is not the plan for you.
I have a friend who has had every job imaginable, and couldn't prosper,gain a grip or hold on to anything and nurturing an inner turmoil hat was about to name itself as a disease. All the while, that still small voice was saying, "You know you hear me, come on." She was too afraid, started questioning and doubting that gut wrenching urge to manifest that gift God wants you to set free, we all know what I'm talking about. Then she hit rock bottom and there was nothing else to do,but what felt comfortable, and in her case it was to speak on behalf of God. The first time she did in front of people, they were overjoyed and she was too. The next day she felt lighter, freer, able to laugh and enjoy living. Now she is an ordained minister, married and calm as still waters.
Find your path, don't worry about what anyone thinks or says, do you, be you. When we hoard our gifts we deny the world the experience...
...And this is how Melvin and I would minister to one another on Sunday mornings, he would often say, "I hope everyone is sharing and conversat'n with one another like we do." Me too Poo, me too."
Being obedient when others knew I was crazy has given me a truer since of myself, even as a girl I wanted to be Sarah to God's Abraham.
Tomorrow
As children we obey our parents:
"Don't run in the street, you might get hit by a car!" It didn't sink in until you saw someone get hit and injured.
"Don't touch that stove, it's hot." Then that throbbing blister makes you a believer.
"You better get your lesson in school, so you can take care of yourself." Doesn't quite sink in until,
upon entering that job interview you realize, your resume and skills don't quite measure up.
On our jobs we obey the rules and regulations or suffer the consequences.
I have obeyed parents and policy, and I do this because of my obedience to God.
I once asked one of my spiritual mentors, "How do you know when God is urging you to heed his calling?' she told me, and I paraphrase, that if there is doubt, insecurity a lingering, nagging feeling that worries you to sleeplessness, that's the thing you should avoid. God's will is none of these things, we know he is not the author of confusion, but of peace, if there is no peace, it is not the plan for you.
I have a friend who has had every job imaginable, and couldn't prosper,gain a grip or hold on to anything and nurturing an inner turmoil hat was about to name itself as a disease. All the while, that still small voice was saying, "You know you hear me, come on." She was too afraid, started questioning and doubting that gut wrenching urge to manifest that gift God wants you to set free, we all know what I'm talking about. Then she hit rock bottom and there was nothing else to do,but what felt comfortable, and in her case it was to speak on behalf of God. The first time she did in front of people, they were overjoyed and she was too. The next day she felt lighter, freer, able to laugh and enjoy living. Now she is an ordained minister, married and calm as still waters.
Find your path, don't worry about what anyone thinks or says, do you, be you. When we hoard our gifts we deny the world the experience...
...And this is how Melvin and I would minister to one another on Sunday mornings, he would often say, "I hope everyone is sharing and conversat'n with one another like we do." Me too Poo, me too."
Being obedient when others knew I was crazy has given me a truer since of myself, even as a girl I wanted to be Sarah to God's Abraham.
Tomorrow
Monday, January 24, 2011
My Earth
The good old Webster New World Dictionary, 1968 edition definition of earth is:
Earth - soil; ground; protection as for a seed; practical; realistic.
This collection of nouns and verb tenses describe our eldest son.
I knew Wind and Fire because they attended the elementary school were I was teaching when I met Melvin. Earth had moved to middle school. When I came into his life, neither of us knew what to make of the other. He remained in his room and to himself and we respected one anothers space. Many months after becoming the common law wife, but permanent mother, I was overjoyed when Earth came to me for assistance with home work. I did my best to act as though this was just another occurrence in our lives, but Melvin and I were ecstatic. I felt like Sally Field, "He likes me, he really likes me!" At that period in our life I never received smothering love from him, but I knew the feeling was there. Earth adored Da, (the a pronunciation is short) I loved to hear them say, "heyda." it was all one word (hey dad). It was not what he said or did with his father, but they way he looked at him, he really loved Melvin.
When Earth was around 11 or 12 he developed a tumor on his brain. This was during the time Melvin was away. I truly believe that missing and worrying for his father made him ill, but the cure was Melvin walking into his hospital room and sharing what God had shared with him, "My son, be not afraid, I am always with you and God will make a way." Praise God he did and Earth made a full recovery.
My grandmother taught me how to pray and instilled in me the power of prayer, but earth taught me how to bow down on bended knee and talk to God and his son.
Sixteen, driver's license, first car, get the picture. Lord have mercy. We told ourselves he can help shuffle the boys to school and baseball practice and help with minor errands, yeah right. He did, but how can you keep a teenage male whose cute as a button at home or tell them to stay within a set radius when they have their first car. Melvin would go to sleep on those nights, but if he was a few minutes past his curfew, I panicked and fell to the floor, and just when I would be about to make my inaudible conversation with the Lord a wake up the house shout, Earth would pull into the driveway, then I would go to sleep.
Melvin and I didn't officially marry until Earth was in love a ready to propose marriage himself, but when I told him, I told Melvin I wanted to be the one to tell Earth, he wouldn't let me talk, he just kissed me all over my face and for the first time I was given the same passionate look of love I had observed him share with only his father and brothers, my joy to this day is unspeakable. This is also the time I found out there was a vote if Da should marry me years before and Earth said,"Ma, I voted for you."
My Earth is solid, practical and realistic, he is so abreast of the world and his surroundings, yet chooses to be far removed from the toil. Earth is a source of deep, abiding love, a trait he gleaned from his father. And on this day we celebrate the birth of our son Earth.
Tomorrow.
Earth - soil; ground; protection as for a seed; practical; realistic.
This collection of nouns and verb tenses describe our eldest son.
I knew Wind and Fire because they attended the elementary school were I was teaching when I met Melvin. Earth had moved to middle school. When I came into his life, neither of us knew what to make of the other. He remained in his room and to himself and we respected one anothers space. Many months after becoming the common law wife, but permanent mother, I was overjoyed when Earth came to me for assistance with home work. I did my best to act as though this was just another occurrence in our lives, but Melvin and I were ecstatic. I felt like Sally Field, "He likes me, he really likes me!" At that period in our life I never received smothering love from him, but I knew the feeling was there. Earth adored Da, (the a pronunciation is short) I loved to hear them say, "heyda." it was all one word (hey dad). It was not what he said or did with his father, but they way he looked at him, he really loved Melvin.
When Earth was around 11 or 12 he developed a tumor on his brain. This was during the time Melvin was away. I truly believe that missing and worrying for his father made him ill, but the cure was Melvin walking into his hospital room and sharing what God had shared with him, "My son, be not afraid, I am always with you and God will make a way." Praise God he did and Earth made a full recovery.
My grandmother taught me how to pray and instilled in me the power of prayer, but earth taught me how to bow down on bended knee and talk to God and his son.
Sixteen, driver's license, first car, get the picture. Lord have mercy. We told ourselves he can help shuffle the boys to school and baseball practice and help with minor errands, yeah right. He did, but how can you keep a teenage male whose cute as a button at home or tell them to stay within a set radius when they have their first car. Melvin would go to sleep on those nights, but if he was a few minutes past his curfew, I panicked and fell to the floor, and just when I would be about to make my inaudible conversation with the Lord a wake up the house shout, Earth would pull into the driveway, then I would go to sleep.
Melvin and I didn't officially marry until Earth was in love a ready to propose marriage himself, but when I told him, I told Melvin I wanted to be the one to tell Earth, he wouldn't let me talk, he just kissed me all over my face and for the first time I was given the same passionate look of love I had observed him share with only his father and brothers, my joy to this day is unspeakable. This is also the time I found out there was a vote if Da should marry me years before and Earth said,"Ma, I voted for you."
My Earth is solid, practical and realistic, he is so abreast of the world and his surroundings, yet chooses to be far removed from the toil. Earth is a source of deep, abiding love, a trait he gleaned from his father. And on this day we celebrate the birth of our son Earth.
Tomorrow.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Children, Knowing when to let go
Like most children bred from my generation, my boys were sheltered. Though they experienced pain at an early age, they knew not the depravity from a lack of steady finances which leads to, darkness in the house after the sun goes down, wearing layered clothing within the four walls and slam sandwiches, that's just two pieces of bread and sometimes a saucy middle of ketchup or mustard or butter.
My children always had shelter, utilities, nice clothes, private transportation, all of their needs and the majority of their wants fulfilled. This is a good thing, but it's one of the reasons I felt it necessary to share with my boys the difference in how I was provided for and the provisions made for them. I did this not for pity, but so that they could gain appreciation for their circumstances and pass on the legacy of sacrifice for their offsprings.
My husband was in the Army and the Navy, came home and learned the trade of sewing, but he ultimately retired from U.S.Steel. Like many of us he could have been many things, but he had a family to care for and he meant to care for them well. He was appreciative of the the job, but hated everyday he had to clock in to manual labor job that could be overtly prejudice on occasion. Everytime he contemplated leaving that place and delving into a more satisfying, artistic venue, he would look at how well his pay checks were allowing him to provide for his family and he'd clock in another day.
After my husband transitioned all I wanted was to have my sons around me. I didn't want them out of my sight, I had to protect them, my babies are all I had left. There was one problem, my babies were men. Yes, when I look at them I see my little boys, who needed me. But outside the confines of our home others see them as men and judge them accordingly, as well they should. Now, I mentioned early that the women in my family cater to men so I have male cousins who are well past their prime still dependent on the mothers. It's a detriment to them and the women who fall for them. I refuse to make my sons dependent. We forget that when we have children the object is to raise them to become independent, not dependent. If you give a man a fish he eats for one day, if you teach him to fish he will never be hungry. I mean for my children to catch fish. It has been and still is a struggle, but God is patient and I believe in God so...
In the days to come I will introduce you to my children:
Earth - the eldest
Wind - the youngest and
Fire - the middle
Tomorrow
My children always had shelter, utilities, nice clothes, private transportation, all of their needs and the majority of their wants fulfilled. This is a good thing, but it's one of the reasons I felt it necessary to share with my boys the difference in how I was provided for and the provisions made for them. I did this not for pity, but so that they could gain appreciation for their circumstances and pass on the legacy of sacrifice for their offsprings.
My husband was in the Army and the Navy, came home and learned the trade of sewing, but he ultimately retired from U.S.Steel. Like many of us he could have been many things, but he had a family to care for and he meant to care for them well. He was appreciative of the the job, but hated everyday he had to clock in to manual labor job that could be overtly prejudice on occasion. Everytime he contemplated leaving that place and delving into a more satisfying, artistic venue, he would look at how well his pay checks were allowing him to provide for his family and he'd clock in another day.
After my husband transitioned all I wanted was to have my sons around me. I didn't want them out of my sight, I had to protect them, my babies are all I had left. There was one problem, my babies were men. Yes, when I look at them I see my little boys, who needed me. But outside the confines of our home others see them as men and judge them accordingly, as well they should. Now, I mentioned early that the women in my family cater to men so I have male cousins who are well past their prime still dependent on the mothers. It's a detriment to them and the women who fall for them. I refuse to make my sons dependent. We forget that when we have children the object is to raise them to become independent, not dependent. If you give a man a fish he eats for one day, if you teach him to fish he will never be hungry. I mean for my children to catch fish. It has been and still is a struggle, but God is patient and I believe in God so...
In the days to come I will introduce you to my children:
Earth - the eldest
Wind - the youngest and
Fire - the middle
Tomorrow
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Mrs. White
During the nine years Melvin and I were apart I grew. I always knew that I could make it alone, my childhood prepared me for that. Yet, after I left Melvin and the boys, I was secretly forlorn and openly bitter. One friend gave me the name "the Rock". This was to insinuate that I was mean and my heart as hard as a rock. I found it difficult to allow a new relationship to flourish, no one met the unattainable criteria of being Melvin.
I immersed myself in education as a teacher and as a student. I bought a home and and settled into a life of independence. Still in the intervals Poo was there; When ice covered my drive way, he came to pour the sand; when I saw water bugs, he was pest control; when grief struck my heart, his shoulder was my pillow and we always conversed and made mutual decisions about the boys when and if a problem arose, as they do with growing children.
I can not recall how, but during the course of our hiatus I came across an old college chum. One whom I knew liked me from afar. We struck up a relationship and before I knew it, I was Mrs. White. My mother always said our relationship was more like a business. From the outside it seemed we had it all, but within the confines of home, it was just a house of two people sharing space. When I told Melvin I was getting married his advice was, "Poo I just hope you're happy and you know you got to share with him, that means money too." (I am frugal). he wished me well. I later heard a female friend moved in with him and my first thought was, he better not marry her, he never did.
I was Mrs. White for almost three years. We trudged along, a monogenestic routine, then one night I dreamt his sister was telling me that he was having an affair, I really couldn't blame him, to be honest, but I woke up and asked him if he wanted a divorce, he said he didn't know. Psst, that's code for yes, but let me tell ya when I get fully dressed in case you go nuts. We left it there. We both went to work, he forgot his way to the house for a few days, when he did come home, he slept in the other room, with a barricade at the door. After two nights if this I confronted him. "Are you afraid of me, what's going on?" he says, "I am going to see an attorney tomorrow, I want out and I want you to respect my wishes." I asked all of the questions one asks when they are being tossed aside, "Are you having an affair; do you want children, are you gay?.." Every answer was, "No." With my head hung low I am thinking, man, I 've got to go through this again another divorce, what will people think and so on. So, I was not prepared for what he said next, we had never discussed my life with Melvin and the boys. He said, "I think I have been a good husband to you, but you have never been a wife to me, you will forever be married to Melvin and mother to those boys, you will not let anyone else in and I don't want to compete with them anymore."
I was floored. Mrs. White was no more. We had an amicable divorce and though I have not seen or spoken to him in many years, I know there are no hard feelings. In hind sight, I thank him for releasing me, without it I would have missed out on the best years of my life. I am forever grateful to him for his insightfullness.
In the recesses of my mind, I knew he was right, the divorce was final December 31, 1999. What a transition into the new millennium with Melvin and the boys still safe in my heart.
tomorrow...
I immersed myself in education as a teacher and as a student. I bought a home and and settled into a life of independence. Still in the intervals Poo was there; When ice covered my drive way, he came to pour the sand; when I saw water bugs, he was pest control; when grief struck my heart, his shoulder was my pillow and we always conversed and made mutual decisions about the boys when and if a problem arose, as they do with growing children.
I can not recall how, but during the course of our hiatus I came across an old college chum. One whom I knew liked me from afar. We struck up a relationship and before I knew it, I was Mrs. White. My mother always said our relationship was more like a business. From the outside it seemed we had it all, but within the confines of home, it was just a house of two people sharing space. When I told Melvin I was getting married his advice was, "Poo I just hope you're happy and you know you got to share with him, that means money too." (I am frugal). he wished me well. I later heard a female friend moved in with him and my first thought was, he better not marry her, he never did.
I was Mrs. White for almost three years. We trudged along, a monogenestic routine, then one night I dreamt his sister was telling me that he was having an affair, I really couldn't blame him, to be honest, but I woke up and asked him if he wanted a divorce, he said he didn't know. Psst, that's code for yes, but let me tell ya when I get fully dressed in case you go nuts. We left it there. We both went to work, he forgot his way to the house for a few days, when he did come home, he slept in the other room, with a barricade at the door. After two nights if this I confronted him. "Are you afraid of me, what's going on?" he says, "I am going to see an attorney tomorrow, I want out and I want you to respect my wishes." I asked all of the questions one asks when they are being tossed aside, "Are you having an affair; do you want children, are you gay?.." Every answer was, "No." With my head hung low I am thinking, man, I 've got to go through this again another divorce, what will people think and so on. So, I was not prepared for what he said next, we had never discussed my life with Melvin and the boys. He said, "I think I have been a good husband to you, but you have never been a wife to me, you will forever be married to Melvin and mother to those boys, you will not let anyone else in and I don't want to compete with them anymore."
I was floored. Mrs. White was no more. We had an amicable divorce and though I have not seen or spoken to him in many years, I know there are no hard feelings. In hind sight, I thank him for releasing me, without it I would have missed out on the best years of my life. I am forever grateful to him for his insightfullness.
In the recesses of my mind, I knew he was right, the divorce was final December 31, 1999. What a transition into the new millennium with Melvin and the boys still safe in my heart.
tomorrow...
Friday, January 21, 2011
1993
It started out as a very good year. We were evolving into a family. If you saw one of us, you saw all of us. The boys were playing baseball, I was into my last year of my Master's degree and Melvin was taking care of home and all of us. I look back on those times and wonder how I did it. All wives and mothers know what I mean. I was raising a family, working, attending grad school and attending baseball practices and games. Yet there was one draw back, I was the common law wife and my pursuit was being the one on paper.
For years I endured the criticisms, stares, rolled eyes and speeches about the age difference between Melvin and I, his past, my past, blah, blah, blah. In the beginning his love and the children's acceptance was all I required. But in 1993, it all felt so right to me, it felt like the time for me to become Mrs. Mathews and all that came with the title. We discussed, no, I discussed it all the time. Melvin's past left him frigid on the subject and he would either avoid the conversation or hang out with Paul Masson and then relent to yesteryear in which my presence was a substitute for the villainous past, we'd argue, I would go to one room and he another. (Because of the events of the past we tried hard not to argue in front of the children so as not to upset them, they had endured enough).
Unwilling to jeopardize my blissful cohabitation, I'd let it go. And then, July 1993, summer time. The kids playing in the yard, windows raised inviting the summer breeze, I sit in my wing backed chair, in my two story home feeling like a princess. Melvin is softening on marriage. My birthday just past and I got two rings and a bracelet. Neither ring was an engagement ring, but I figured he was sizing me up for the big question. Our dining room is covered in my books and notes. Our abode is tranquil.
Thursday we all sleep late and wake up in time to get ready for baseball practice. We get to "The Ghost" and someone has cut the convertible top and busted the glass in the rear view mirror. Immediately I sense some shit in the game. "What's goin' on Melvin?" "I don't know Poo, it could be some n*#@er that likes you." Okay, I say to myself, things are going too well, we'll discuss this later. I broach the subject, nothing. A little later I say, "If we're to be married we must be a united front, show whoever it is they can't tear us apart. If you can't talk to me about it, we won't get past it and we won't make it." Reading this now, I know,to a man, this must have sounded like, "I'm gonna get him to confess an infidelity by acting understanding, then I got him, I got him." I was much too young and naive to play that game, I was sincere. He still didn't want to talk. By then I knew another woman was involved.
I found out later that he had been taking a previous girlfriend to work and back, her car was out of fix or something. He asked the boys if they would mind if he married me, one voted yes and the other two no(the day of the vote, they were angry with me about something and...) Anyway, he told the old girlfriend he was getting married and would not be able to help her out anymore... She got pissed and cut up the car.
But I didn't know this back then, so on Sunday morning when I heard him on the phone telling her how much she needed to pay him for the repairs, anger welled in me from the tip of my toes and traveled straight vertical. I held it in though, I was cool as a cucumber all day. My mother once told me that when you're angry with your man, that's when you really dot every I and cross every T. I washed, cooked, was the perfect hostess to my mother and brother in law who came to visit, I even made dessert.
I saved that passion pissed for that night when we were one on one. No longer was I that little girl, she fell out on the steps listening to the phone call and the woman didn't pick her up, I stepped right over her. I had figured it out. "You been with her all the time, this ain't no love, I don sacrificed my youth and life to made a fool of, I don't think so..." I went on and on and didn't give Melvin a chance to breathe, let alone speak. When I got through, at 3 o'clock in the morning, I packed my bags and went to my mother's house and vowed I would never cross his thresh hold again. And for nine years, I didn't.
And to this day that is my one regret, I left my sons. We still co parented the boys, but from a distance. We still loved and remained friends, but my broken heart and pride would not free me from my vow.
Luckily for us, in 2001 an Angel intervened.
TOMORROW
For years I endured the criticisms, stares, rolled eyes and speeches about the age difference between Melvin and I, his past, my past, blah, blah, blah. In the beginning his love and the children's acceptance was all I required. But in 1993, it all felt so right to me, it felt like the time for me to become Mrs. Mathews and all that came with the title. We discussed, no, I discussed it all the time. Melvin's past left him frigid on the subject and he would either avoid the conversation or hang out with Paul Masson and then relent to yesteryear in which my presence was a substitute for the villainous past, we'd argue, I would go to one room and he another. (Because of the events of the past we tried hard not to argue in front of the children so as not to upset them, they had endured enough).
Unwilling to jeopardize my blissful cohabitation, I'd let it go. And then, July 1993, summer time. The kids playing in the yard, windows raised inviting the summer breeze, I sit in my wing backed chair, in my two story home feeling like a princess. Melvin is softening on marriage. My birthday just past and I got two rings and a bracelet. Neither ring was an engagement ring, but I figured he was sizing me up for the big question. Our dining room is covered in my books and notes. Our abode is tranquil.
Thursday we all sleep late and wake up in time to get ready for baseball practice. We get to "The Ghost" and someone has cut the convertible top and busted the glass in the rear view mirror. Immediately I sense some shit in the game. "What's goin' on Melvin?" "I don't know Poo, it could be some n*#@er that likes you." Okay, I say to myself, things are going too well, we'll discuss this later. I broach the subject, nothing. A little later I say, "If we're to be married we must be a united front, show whoever it is they can't tear us apart. If you can't talk to me about it, we won't get past it and we won't make it." Reading this now, I know,to a man, this must have sounded like, "I'm gonna get him to confess an infidelity by acting understanding, then I got him, I got him." I was much too young and naive to play that game, I was sincere. He still didn't want to talk. By then I knew another woman was involved.
I found out later that he had been taking a previous girlfriend to work and back, her car was out of fix or something. He asked the boys if they would mind if he married me, one voted yes and the other two no(the day of the vote, they were angry with me about something and...) Anyway, he told the old girlfriend he was getting married and would not be able to help her out anymore... She got pissed and cut up the car.
But I didn't know this back then, so on Sunday morning when I heard him on the phone telling her how much she needed to pay him for the repairs, anger welled in me from the tip of my toes and traveled straight vertical. I held it in though, I was cool as a cucumber all day. My mother once told me that when you're angry with your man, that's when you really dot every I and cross every T. I washed, cooked, was the perfect hostess to my mother and brother in law who came to visit, I even made dessert.
I saved that passion pissed for that night when we were one on one. No longer was I that little girl, she fell out on the steps listening to the phone call and the woman didn't pick her up, I stepped right over her. I had figured it out. "You been with her all the time, this ain't no love, I don sacrificed my youth and life to made a fool of, I don't think so..." I went on and on and didn't give Melvin a chance to breathe, let alone speak. When I got through, at 3 o'clock in the morning, I packed my bags and went to my mother's house and vowed I would never cross his thresh hold again. And for nine years, I didn't.
And to this day that is my one regret, I left my sons. We still co parented the boys, but from a distance. We still loved and remained friends, but my broken heart and pride would not free me from my vow.
Luckily for us, in 2001 an Angel intervened.
TOMORROW
Thursday, January 20, 2011
He believed in me
My father raised my brother and I to be fearless. This meant not being afraid to attempt any feat or stand before any person, place or thing; learn from it, challenge it, conquer it, make your own and move on. We both mastered the concept. When we were children, if my dad said, "Go in the kitchen and make a cake." You couldn't come back to him and say, "I don't be know how, what should I do?" If you can think, read and calculate, nothing is impossible.
I love a challenge, but my flaw, I require reassurance. My dad told me a few years ago that whenever I embarked on something new, once I started it I would turn to him for confirmation that I was on the right track, reinforcement; to be cheered on; a pinch of input and I would be on my way.
That's what I miss from Melvin. In his mind and eyes there was nothing I couldn't do.
I couldn't help but succeed.
Tomorrow...
I love a challenge, but my flaw, I require reassurance. My dad told me a few years ago that whenever I embarked on something new, once I started it I would turn to him for confirmation that I was on the right track, reinforcement; to be cheered on; a pinch of input and I would be on my way.
That's what I miss from Melvin. In his mind and eyes there was nothing I couldn't do.
- When I came home from teaching in the classroom crying, "I want to do more for the children." He said, "Go back to school and get your masters, you'd be a good little counselor.
- When he had fix it projects at home and he asked for my help he would say, "Kee, you a good little helper."
- When I was insecure about disciplining the boys when they were little because I wasn't their biological mother he'd say, "You discipline the children at school, you don't love these God gave you enough to do the same?"
- When I was undecided about leading a high school as a principal, he said, "Poo you can do it, just be yourself and it doesn't matter if they don't like you as long and they respect you and follow your leadership."
- When I was very ill, he held my hand and my heart and never left my side.
- When I couldn't sleep at night, because of the ideas I had in my mind for work, he set up a desk next to my side of the bed. ( he got tired of me waking him up in the middle of the night:-))
- When he left for heaven he left all the tools I would need to tinker about the house, i.e cleaning supplies, caulking, exacto blades, etc, new, in unopened packaging. Not having these items when I need them frustrates me to tears).
I couldn't help but succeed.
Tomorrow...
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
On My Last Leg
A few months prior to meeting Melvin I had just finalized the divorce from my first husband, who shall remain nameless. In retrospect, I realize I married him because he had a wad of cash, on a regular basis, and I was desperate to get out of my aunts house. My aunts husband died suddenly and back then a young person in the family, with no heavy responsibilities, was chosen to act as caretaker for the grieving widow. In 1986, that was me. I loved my aunt ,but her husband haunted that house. I would hear footsteps in the night, a sound like someone was seating themselves in a chair, I'd smell him, I guess he just wasn't ready to move on or maybe I just didn't want to be there, at any rate, when "dollar bill" asked me to marry him I said yes. I knew my family would let me out of the agreement for a marriage. We're partial to and cater to men.
The marriage lasted all of 8 months. The longest 8 months of my life. Imagine my surprise when my naive tail found out where the money came from, oh the lies I was fed. The last straw was when I came home, checked the answering machine to hear two women saying they were incarcerated in the Bahamas, Jamaica or some island because they were caught bringing his drugs back to the states. I started distancing myself then. Good thing God has an affinity for children and fools, because he sure covered me through that. I escaped unharmed physically, but my finances were in a shambles.
I had bought a house and a new car. I had every credit card I wanted I was ballin'. When I started the divorce proceedings, I left "dollar bill" in my house and went to stay with my mother. School was out for the summer so I didn't really need anything out of the house, and lawyer said since he was my spouse I had to allow him at least 30 to vacate the premises. No problem. But that "beep beep bede beep beep beep" waited until day 29 to get a move on. By day thirty he was gone, but so were most of my clothes and jewelery. The little girl next door told me she would see some lady in my clothes. But that was not the worst, by now the law was on his tail, he couldn't keep a job, next best thing, max out my, your soon to be ex-wife's credit cards. Sick is not strong enough to describe how I felt, still I was exhilarated, because I was free.
My glee was short lived when the bills started coming due. The law said, because he was my husband, at the time of the charges, I was still responsible for payment of the accounts.
I taught during the day and worked at a department store in the evenings and I still had more bills than money. I didn't have a soul I could turn to for help, but I promised myself that I would never allow myself to get in a situation like this again, once God delivered me from it. I didn't know how or when I'd be given a pardon for being so stupid, but I knew as long as I kept the faith, walked and didn't faint, this too would pass, and I would be stronger.
After I met Melvin my home became known as, "The Club" we would have our own party away from the children, that was fun, but I couldn't pay my bills and that's how I came to live with Melvin and the boys. He said, "Why don't you rent your house, I'll take you to my attorney and let him explain debtor's court and you can live with me and the boys until you get on your feet." I was there for six years.
The marriage lasted all of 8 months. The longest 8 months of my life. Imagine my surprise when my naive tail found out where the money came from, oh the lies I was fed. The last straw was when I came home, checked the answering machine to hear two women saying they were incarcerated in the Bahamas, Jamaica or some island because they were caught bringing his drugs back to the states. I started distancing myself then. Good thing God has an affinity for children and fools, because he sure covered me through that. I escaped unharmed physically, but my finances were in a shambles.
I had bought a house and a new car. I had every credit card I wanted I was ballin'. When I started the divorce proceedings, I left "dollar bill" in my house and went to stay with my mother. School was out for the summer so I didn't really need anything out of the house, and lawyer said since he was my spouse I had to allow him at least 30 to vacate the premises. No problem. But that "beep beep bede beep beep beep" waited until day 29 to get a move on. By day thirty he was gone, but so were most of my clothes and jewelery. The little girl next door told me she would see some lady in my clothes. But that was not the worst, by now the law was on his tail, he couldn't keep a job, next best thing, max out my, your soon to be ex-wife's credit cards. Sick is not strong enough to describe how I felt, still I was exhilarated, because I was free.
My glee was short lived when the bills started coming due. The law said, because he was my husband, at the time of the charges, I was still responsible for payment of the accounts.
I taught during the day and worked at a department store in the evenings and I still had more bills than money. I didn't have a soul I could turn to for help, but I promised myself that I would never allow myself to get in a situation like this again, once God delivered me from it. I didn't know how or when I'd be given a pardon for being so stupid, but I knew as long as I kept the faith, walked and didn't faint, this too would pass, and I would be stronger.
After I met Melvin my home became known as, "The Club" we would have our own party away from the children, that was fun, but I couldn't pay my bills and that's how I came to live with Melvin and the boys. He said, "Why don't you rent your house, I'll take you to my attorney and let him explain debtor's court and you can live with me and the boys until you get on your feet." I was there for six years.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
A Threesome
When we're young we have such lofty ideas and convictions and we look at those who have lived longer than us and thumb our noses, "Oh, I'll never be like that or I'll never do that, or why are they acting like that." Then life happens and we fall into our own vices and comfort zones. Mine is a full body and mind retreat for Melvin it was distilled sugars and corn. My main rival, another man, Paul Masson. When Paul was in the house, it was on. At first he would be a mellow friend ,eager to please and making you laugh, life of the party, then he became critical, judgemental and mean. During the latter he would make Melvin relive the past and wallow in it. I would bear the brunt of Paul's true intention, to deceive and give false courage. Paul would tell Melvin all women meant him harm, don't trust them, I'm your friend, I do not disappoint.
I hated Paul and used every sober moment to tell Melvin, "Paul is not your friend, he doesn't agree with your body or your mind. Look at where you keep him, under the sink with all the other, possible household poisons. He'll tear us apart one day." "Awe Poo, me and Paul see each other in moderation, that's alright, ain't it baby?" Paul would win again.
On holidays Paul kept me up all night talking, on weekends Paul wanted to drive too fast, in a crisis Paul went to sleep. most of the time that was a good thing.
I hated Paul for so long and eventually Melvin grew to hate him too, but found it difficult to part ways with the paper sack brown quencher. After a long struggle he did bid Paul farewell, but by then I was long gone and Paul was not the culprit.
Tomorrow
I hated Paul and used every sober moment to tell Melvin, "Paul is not your friend, he doesn't agree with your body or your mind. Look at where you keep him, under the sink with all the other, possible household poisons. He'll tear us apart one day." "Awe Poo, me and Paul see each other in moderation, that's alright, ain't it baby?" Paul would win again.
On holidays Paul kept me up all night talking, on weekends Paul wanted to drive too fast, in a crisis Paul went to sleep. most of the time that was a good thing.
I hated Paul for so long and eventually Melvin grew to hate him too, but found it difficult to part ways with the paper sack brown quencher. After a long struggle he did bid Paul farewell, but by then I was long gone and Paul was not the culprit.
Tomorrow
Monday, January 17, 2011
Full Disclosure
This is day 42 of my blog so we go back to the beginning.
Our first date was on the second Wednesday in November 1987. An intimate one on one between two lonely people. The initial meeting was kinetic so this first date was like being with someone I had known all of my life. There were no awkward moments or silences, just common conversation and lots of laughter. He would talk and I listened, then I would talk and he listened. We shared mutual ideas and stories and it was on this very first night that he told me the story of why he was alone. Oh there were the children, but no significant mate, at that time.
He told me that his wife had died and that it had been by his had and his soul was torn wide open. He had served two years in prison from an initial sentence of forty. He said he had asked for Gods grace to be released so that he could take care of his children and God appeared to him in his cell and told him, "Be not afraid, I am with you." Several months later he was released.
Melvin worked and retired from U.S. Steel. Frequently the company would lay off workers for one reason or another. When he was laid off, he kept the boys. At this time the youngest of the three was not yet two. While getting ready to cook he needed help on how to prepare a meal, so he called her office and was told she was on vacation and had been so for two weeks. Not knowing what to feel or what to think, he waited for her to come home so they could talk about it.
Him - "How was work today?"
Her - "It was alright."
Him - "I called your office, they said this is your second week of vacation."
Her - "Well now you know and I am leaving."
Him - "You can go, but with the clothes you have on, leave my car and you can't have the children."
From there the words became daggers, cutting and maiming the other. The gun was hidden from where she placed it. She is searching frantically, he's hidden it, afraid she'll find it, he scrambles to the kitchen cupboard, she's behind him with the phone, trying to make a call. With the baby in his arms he turns, she hits him upside his forehead with the phone, the blow jars him, first reaction, to swing. He hits her in the back of the head, she's on the floor. He's thinking, shes acting. He calls for her to get up, no response. He's thinking this is going to get worse, I've got to get the kids out of here. He calls his sister, we're fighting, she wants to leave and she can not have my children, I'm bringing them over. While he's taking the boys to their aunt, she calls the police. When he returns, the house is surrounded by people and police. The police ask, "Is this your home." He says, "Yes, where is my wife." "She's dead sir, what happened." He mentally passes out.
He'd hit her with the gun in his hand and it fired, with all the commotion he said he didn't hear the sound.
For some reason hearing the story did not frighten me or make me want to say, "Okay, well it was nice meeting you..." just the opposite I felt closer to him. To this day I don't know if he told me because he wanted to tell me before anyone else or he liked me so much that he wanted to make a full disclosure in order to make or break our bond. All I know is I admired his honesty and from that day on we never hid anything from one another.
I can also say that I love his first wife very much, because she gave me my children and my grandchildren and to deny her or belittle her would be a travesty. My husband spoiled those he loved and sometimes that kind of love can be taken for granted and misused.
But we loved each other enough to stand the rain.
Tomorrow
Our first date was on the second Wednesday in November 1987. An intimate one on one between two lonely people. The initial meeting was kinetic so this first date was like being with someone I had known all of my life. There were no awkward moments or silences, just common conversation and lots of laughter. He would talk and I listened, then I would talk and he listened. We shared mutual ideas and stories and it was on this very first night that he told me the story of why he was alone. Oh there were the children, but no significant mate, at that time.
He told me that his wife had died and that it had been by his had and his soul was torn wide open. He had served two years in prison from an initial sentence of forty. He said he had asked for Gods grace to be released so that he could take care of his children and God appeared to him in his cell and told him, "Be not afraid, I am with you." Several months later he was released.
Melvin worked and retired from U.S. Steel. Frequently the company would lay off workers for one reason or another. When he was laid off, he kept the boys. At this time the youngest of the three was not yet two. While getting ready to cook he needed help on how to prepare a meal, so he called her office and was told she was on vacation and had been so for two weeks. Not knowing what to feel or what to think, he waited for her to come home so they could talk about it.
Him - "How was work today?"
Her - "It was alright."
Him - "I called your office, they said this is your second week of vacation."
Her - "Well now you know and I am leaving."
Him - "You can go, but with the clothes you have on, leave my car and you can't have the children."
From there the words became daggers, cutting and maiming the other. The gun was hidden from where she placed it. She is searching frantically, he's hidden it, afraid she'll find it, he scrambles to the kitchen cupboard, she's behind him with the phone, trying to make a call. With the baby in his arms he turns, she hits him upside his forehead with the phone, the blow jars him, first reaction, to swing. He hits her in the back of the head, she's on the floor. He's thinking, shes acting. He calls for her to get up, no response. He's thinking this is going to get worse, I've got to get the kids out of here. He calls his sister, we're fighting, she wants to leave and she can not have my children, I'm bringing them over. While he's taking the boys to their aunt, she calls the police. When he returns, the house is surrounded by people and police. The police ask, "Is this your home." He says, "Yes, where is my wife." "She's dead sir, what happened." He mentally passes out.
He'd hit her with the gun in his hand and it fired, with all the commotion he said he didn't hear the sound.
For some reason hearing the story did not frighten me or make me want to say, "Okay, well it was nice meeting you..." just the opposite I felt closer to him. To this day I don't know if he told me because he wanted to tell me before anyone else or he liked me so much that he wanted to make a full disclosure in order to make or break our bond. All I know is I admired his honesty and from that day on we never hid anything from one another.
I can also say that I love his first wife very much, because she gave me my children and my grandchildren and to deny her or belittle her would be a travesty. My husband spoiled those he loved and sometimes that kind of love can be taken for granted and misused.
But we loved each other enough to stand the rain.
Tomorrow
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Our First Thanksgiving
I grew up in a time where girls were in the kitchen with their mothers, grandmothers and aunts and watched and helped while they cooked. This was also a time to hear all of the juicy neighborhood gossip. The latter was lost on me, but I did develop my natural aptitude for cooking.
On mine, Melvin and the boys first Thanksgiving together I decided, this was it, my time to show Melvin he need not look any further, I was the woman for him and the pies ta resistance would be a home cooked Thanksgiving dinner. I was terrified, yes I could cook, but at 24 I had never prepared an entire holiday feast, my mother did that. So here I am auditioning for motherhood in Melvin's kitchen. Melvin gets all of the food items on my dinner list, I'm in the kitchen and ready to go, I call my mother, "What to do first?" "Is your turkey thawed and ready," my mom says. "Yes." "Well start with that." I remember I have a Betty Crocker cookbook at home so I rush over and get it for backup. I get the turkey on, start cleaning and cutting the greens, Melvin enters, "You got it smelling good Poo." with his trade mark kiss on the forehead. Oh it's on now, my confidence is through the roof.
I gather Melvin must have gotten on the phone and told his family and friends that I was cooking, because people were popping in and spreading the holiday cheer. By now the fear had left me and I was in that kitchen like a pro. Here comes Melvin's friend J.B. "Look at ole Kisafer cookin', I call Kisafer Mel cause she look so kissable." I just smile, I could see Melvin's chest sticking out with pride. I was on my way. I knew that even if the dinner wasn't good I would have a chance to redeem myself the next year and there would be a next year.
Then it came, "J.B. join us for dinner." What, what, if it ain't good for you and the boys that's one thing, but guests, they'll run my name through the mud. I could just hear it, Sugar Hill Gang in real life, " Have you ever went over a friends house to eat and the food just ain't no good, I mean the macaroni's soggy, the peas all mushed and the TURKEY tastes like wood..." I can't have him putting doubt in my baby's head by teasing him about my cooking, I've got to get this right. I was a ball of nerves again. I call mom, I get the book, call mom get, the book, this goes on all day.
Finally I get the major foods cooked and refrigerated for the next day and Thursday morning I'll fix the potato salad, yams, pies and gravy any other last minute items.
Around three o' clock we're all dressed and ready to eat, by know I am too exhausted to fear the final verdict. Melvin says the blessing and we begin to eat. Silence. All you can hear is forks hitting plates. They enjoyed it, I did it, thank you Jesus. It was that day that Melvin began to tell me after ever meal, "Poo, that was just too damn good." Sometimes it was so, sometimes not so much, but it warmed my soul and now I am a pretty good chef. Oh J.B. took a plate home.
Tomorrow
On mine, Melvin and the boys first Thanksgiving together I decided, this was it, my time to show Melvin he need not look any further, I was the woman for him and the pies ta resistance would be a home cooked Thanksgiving dinner. I was terrified, yes I could cook, but at 24 I had never prepared an entire holiday feast, my mother did that. So here I am auditioning for motherhood in Melvin's kitchen. Melvin gets all of the food items on my dinner list, I'm in the kitchen and ready to go, I call my mother, "What to do first?" "Is your turkey thawed and ready," my mom says. "Yes." "Well start with that." I remember I have a Betty Crocker cookbook at home so I rush over and get it for backup. I get the turkey on, start cleaning and cutting the greens, Melvin enters, "You got it smelling good Poo." with his trade mark kiss on the forehead. Oh it's on now, my confidence is through the roof.
I gather Melvin must have gotten on the phone and told his family and friends that I was cooking, because people were popping in and spreading the holiday cheer. By now the fear had left me and I was in that kitchen like a pro. Here comes Melvin's friend J.B. "Look at ole Kisafer cookin', I call Kisafer Mel cause she look so kissable." I just smile, I could see Melvin's chest sticking out with pride. I was on my way. I knew that even if the dinner wasn't good I would have a chance to redeem myself the next year and there would be a next year.
Then it came, "J.B. join us for dinner." What, what, if it ain't good for you and the boys that's one thing, but guests, they'll run my name through the mud. I could just hear it, Sugar Hill Gang in real life, " Have you ever went over a friends house to eat and the food just ain't no good, I mean the macaroni's soggy, the peas all mushed and the TURKEY tastes like wood..." I can't have him putting doubt in my baby's head by teasing him about my cooking, I've got to get this right. I was a ball of nerves again. I call mom, I get the book, call mom get, the book, this goes on all day.
Finally I get the major foods cooked and refrigerated for the next day and Thursday morning I'll fix the potato salad, yams, pies and gravy any other last minute items.
Around three o' clock we're all dressed and ready to eat, by know I am too exhausted to fear the final verdict. Melvin says the blessing and we begin to eat. Silence. All you can hear is forks hitting plates. They enjoyed it, I did it, thank you Jesus. It was that day that Melvin began to tell me after ever meal, "Poo, that was just too damn good." Sometimes it was so, sometimes not so much, but it warmed my soul and now I am a pretty good chef. Oh J.B. took a plate home.
Tomorrow
Saturday, January 15, 2011
The Sound Track of our Life
We love music, all kinds, but there are songs I hear and they are distinctly mine to covet for they enthrall the soundtrack to my life. There are two categories BMD, before Melvin's departure and AMD after Melvin's departure. Of course I can not list all of our songs, because there were many, but these are a few I wish to share and that stand out in my mind for this journey.
BMD
Love Won't Let Me Wait by Luther Vandross - It was a school night and we'd put the boys to bed. We'd been sitting on the deck talking and the night was so calm and filled with stars and possibilities. So Melvin suggested we ride around the block with the top down on "The Ghost" and enjoy the breeze. I agreed. My grand dad always said, "A man that lets you drive his car really likes you." Well I got to drive. As I pulled out of the driveway, on the radio was the intro to this song, whew. The whirling sound "The Ghost" made, the iridescent blue light on the dash, me in the drivers seat and Melvin to my right...paradise.
Whip Appeal by Babyface - Self explanatory, OKAAAY!!!
Tenderoni by Bobby Brown - Melvin's best friend was J.B. and I would here him telling J.B., "Man I got me a tender, a tenderoni."
Can You Stop the Rain by Peabo Bryson - Now you know no love story is perfect and in the days to come you'll see that too, so, on an occasion that I was angry with Melvin and left him for about nine days, this song was his present to me. We always had make up songs that he would dedicate to me.When he played this song for me I realized the depth of our devotion to one another and I knew, without a doubt, our love was real.
AMD
A Song for you by The Temptations - Death really hits the loved ones after the services are completed and all the people are gone. I cried everyday for eight months straight, sometimes for hours. The only thing that would dam the flood was this song that I would play on a CD player with headphones on repeat, over and over and over until I fell asleep.
Thank you Sonya Johnson for the CD player.
Heaven - by Jamie Foxx - My youngest son Michael, brought me this CD, "Ma it's like Jamie Foxx made this CD just for you, you'll like these songs!" and I did, but this one stood out the most.
The Garden by Marvin Sapp - I wanted to know what Melvin was doing in Heaven and was he okay and I just asked God and his Son so many questions about my baby's journey and I felt like I wasn't getting any answers. I never voiced that to anyone, but a friend gave me the CD and I procrastinated and didn't get my message until weeks later. While everyone was mesmerized by Never would have made it, it was the song before that captured me. If you have the CD you know that right before the song comes on, Sapp is singing "find your place of worship... ", I was in my car, dreading going upstairs without Poo hiding, and I heard it, "I come to the garden,aaaalloone, while the dew is still on the roses..." God is truly awesome.
Thank you Shalanda Craver for the CD.
and last, and most importantly;
I'm Still With You by Eric Benet - I could not get the song Pretty Baby out of my head so I asked my brother to burn me a copy of the CD. Driving helps calm me know, so I rode with that CD a while. Now y'all know Benet can belt a serenade, so all the songs are good, but the last cut blew me away. I know this one was written for me, whoever wrote it may have had other ideas, but as for me, I'm claiming the muse.
Because we listened to music all the time and communicated through the lyrics, I know the AMD songs were sent to my from Heaven, he had to let me know he was still thinking of me too and trying to help me make sense of life without him.
Tomorrow,
"Angel of the Morning"
Friday, January 14, 2011
The sooner I get to work, the sooner I will get home...
The last few years Melvin and I spent together were free. We had nothing to prove to one another or fear from the outside and with that comfort we began to become territorial of our time together, now I know why... We had a game we would play when the boys were small, hide and scare or startle one another. When it was just us we continued to play the game with one another. I knew once Melvin heard the garage door he would hide from me and I had to say, "Poo I know you're hiding from me, where's Poo?" and he'd jump from behind the door or another room, but I loved to see him hiding under the dining room table. He was 6'2" and about 220 pounds, imagine a grown man crawling under a table to scare you, it would be hilarious. When he would come home and I was hiding he would say, "Call the police somebody got my baby, bring her back..." I couldn't wait to get to work and get it over with so I could come home to Poo. I knew there would be peace there. What I miss, at night, the most is how I would hate to go to sleep, because we'd be having too much fun, but I had to go to sleep so I could get up and be a big girl in the morning for work so I would say, "Poo, tell me a story" (In that little girl voice all of us women have when our heads lay in the chest just under the chin of the man we love). Then he would began, (in his pacifying, please the baby in my woman voice) "Onest upon a time..." The story would always be an embellishment on our life together, how we met or something like that. CHERISH
Tomorrow...
Tomorrow...
Thursday, January 13, 2011
The Ghost
Melvin bought a top of the line, fully loaded, 1987, white, convertible, Chrysler LeBaron that was awesome. I really like cars so before our heaven scheduled encounter at the school carnival, I noticed him and his sons in this beautiful car I would later name, "The Ghost."
Though I lived around the corner and up the block from the school where I taught, I would still manage to be late. This is how I would end up behind Melvin and the boys. I would see his eyes through his rear view mirror as he would kiss the forehead of each of his sons as he let them out for school. I thought that was precious, so the car and his routine gesture of affection to his sons made me take notice. So, after I saw the full spectrum of the man on that fall evening in October, my dreams were confirmed.
On our first date, when I saw him exit "The Ghost," in front of my home at last, I nearly fainted. My McDreamy was coming for me and the evening was sheer bliss.
Tomorrow
Though I lived around the corner and up the block from the school where I taught, I would still manage to be late. This is how I would end up behind Melvin and the boys. I would see his eyes through his rear view mirror as he would kiss the forehead of each of his sons as he let them out for school. I thought that was precious, so the car and his routine gesture of affection to his sons made me take notice. So, after I saw the full spectrum of the man on that fall evening in October, my dreams were confirmed.
On our first date, when I saw him exit "The Ghost," in front of my home at last, I nearly fainted. My McDreamy was coming for me and the evening was sheer bliss.
Tomorrow
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
The Forty-five minute rule
I was an educator and I loved it. But with this profession comes and endless barrage of questions during the day. Melvin instituted the 45 minute rule. When I came home from work he would not ask me any questions and would give me time to myself for at least 45 minutes. This was my time to unwind and mellow out. We avoided arguments, disagreements and plain ole bad vibes that one can bring home from the job. If after 45 minutes I was still wired he would say, "Poo, go in there and take a nap." He would then turn off the ringer on the phone in the bed room and screen my calls. Sometimes I would just lay there and laugh at how he tip toed around trying to be quiet as if I was a "terrible two" year old who you want to stay asleep as long as possible. When I would wake up, dinner would be ready and we'd resume our romantic paradise of togetherness, just the two of us. His peaceful manner pampered the hurricane that is my mind and in his arms I was purged and ready to face another day.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Day 48
How did we meet? We met in my dreams when I was just a little girl sharing a room and the top bunk of our bunk beds with my brother Joe, Junior as I call him. I would have a reoccurring dream of being at a Carnival and amidst all of the people and fare of the event I would see a man in the distance. He would be looking for me and I trying to get to him through the crowd. With each dream I would get a little closer to him and with each step I would grow older. I could never really see his face, but he had the same physique and demeanor as the man I would meet in 1987 in front of the school where I taught, on October 31st, the evening of our fall carnival. I was entering the building and he was coming out. As we passed, we both turned around and looked at one another. It seemed we stared at each other forever, but I am sure it was only a few moments and with all the hubbub in the air and all the people around, only he and I existed at that moment and for me time stood still. I knew he was the one and my life would never be the same.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Forty nine days left
On this date in 2006 I had no idea that my husband and I only had forty nine days left together here on earth. Ironically enough we lived those few days together as if they where our last. I can truly say we loved each other more than life. I should be happy that I was loved so completely and knew love so true, but for me, it was too brief. Each year since, around this time, a cloud of grief hovers over me like a cloud filled with the tears of all who have loved and left too soon. I am as a wounded animal retreating to the woods to heal and I shut the whole world out. I shroud my mind with the moments I shared with my soul mate and the journey is surreal. Man do I miss my man...
TOMORROW.
TOMORROW.
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