A Tornado and The Debris

It is funny how something can come along like a whirlwind and completely alter your plans or your life or your future.

This happens in an instant and then you are left either cleaning up the debris or celebrating the clearing out of what you don't need, all depending on the perspective.

A tornado of sorts hit my house and I'm deciding on cleaning out the debris.

Back up a week ago to my glorious trip to Delaware. I had so much fun and it was well deserved after I spent the prior week cleaning the house and doing laundry so the hubby and kids wouldn't have to.

I came home to a mini tornado of my son forgetting to study and my hubby not thinking to tell him to study, despite always asking me how the kid is doing (he is a freshman). In my evaluation of those three days, I think they all just decided to play since mommy was gone, now the kid is paying a price for that was the the last weekend before the last week of class and finals.

Now here we are, finals week, and the kid is scrambling to complete his drama assignments. Cleaning out the debris on this one? I told him I will not pay $500 for him to attend summer theatre and he did not think it important enough to turn his his play assignments on time.

Then the weekend came and it was fun on Saturday at the African Arts Festival. Fun until that turned into the wee hours of Sunday and the hubby woke me up at 4:15am complaining of nausea. I thought it was because he ate spaghetti at 9 o'clock at night!

We finally go to the emergency room around 6am and by then he was complaining of shooting pain up his leg. No fever, chills, none of the raging H1N1 flu symptoms, none of that. Several tests and hours and hours and hours and hours later, they said they were going to admit him to the hospital. He was getting sicker in the emergency room. No Memorial Day parade or BBQ for us.

The week has been crazy between runs to the hospital and the endless tests and the unknown of what made him sick. The kid trying to study for finals, me trying to get my syllabus in and my program hires completed before June 1st. A tornado!

In the midst of this storm, we have been blessed with phone calls, emails, prayers, thoughts sent, meals brought over, flowers delivered to his room, offer to watch the girls. Real love, the kind perfect strangers will show you when a tornado hits your home. The help to clean out the debris and remove the broken pieces.

It is Friday and the hubby says the doctors will let him come home today. It is the last final for the freshman son. It is the school picnic for the first-grade daughter.

And tomorrow will be Saturday. A workshop for my new hires, graduation for the high school, play time for the girls. And it will be the day the sun shines and on Monday, the trash truck will come by and pick up all the debris of the week. The old papers will go away, the winter clothes packed away or donated, the summer things brought out, the broken pieces in the trash,and perhaps, somewhere in there, the hubby will mend and take better care of himself.

Life Lessons

I woke up the other day and noticed I had cellulite.

After giving birth to six kids and turning forty-five, I would expect to see some of the wrinkles, dimples, and children's coloring project on my legs. They were all earned and each has an history.

That brought me to thinking about my life and the lessons over the forty-five years.

I am warm, sensitive, outgoing, caring, creative, intuitive, generous, giving, embracing, forgiving, and nurturing. I am also impatient, distractable, and cautious. I am me and I love me.

It sometimes takes people well into their seventies or eighties to decide that they love themselves. This journey began for me probably fifteen years ago, I'd venture to say it began over twenty years ago, but I'll give it to the last fifteen.

Before I turned thirty, in my college years, in my twenties, I was headstrong and determined. I had already overcome the murder of my first-born and a lifetime of emotional and verbal abuse from my step-mother. I knew at that time that I could not stand the same company of most women and only counted a few in my intimate circle. Having grown up in a household with a domineering and bullying woman, I didn't feel like being bullied by a bunch of sorority women who kept getting kicked off the yard. Years later, this is the only thing from my college years that I do regret, but I digress. In my early twenties, I was already the holder of one degree, taught myself how to drive, had my own apartment,and a full-time job with benefits. I was a full-time college student in the evening and managed to keep a decent GPA. My life was directed and focused and I had already eliminated wholescale people from it.

Along the journey to thirty, I married, had sons, moved to a major metropolitan city, and was again focused, directed, and determined. I kicked my first husband to the curb when he decided that being a kid was more fun than being a husband. Having been less than a decade from my childhood home, I was not about to live with a bunch of fighting or domineering. My life changed and I became a d-i-v-o-r-c-e-d mom. That also was a pivotal change in my spiritual life because I had grown up with a few truths - wait until marriage to have sex (missed that as a teenage mom), do not have children without being married (oops, missed that one), do not get divorced (oops, definitely missed that one). Since the truths I had grown up with did not pane out in my life story, I had to define a new truth.

Probably one of the biggest life lessons for me was that God really does love me. As a daughter of a theologian and in an era where it was more about religion, showing up, and making sure you met the requirements of the people, it took a long time before I came to know the Lord personally, intimately, and lovingly. I always knew HE was there and HE listened, but didn't know that HE really was into me and what was going on with me...and that HE had a plan.

One thing I knew about myself was that I was strong. After I divorced, I stayed in that metropolitan city without the benefit of family or really friends. I worked full-time, took classes when I could trying to finish that senior year that was halted with marriage and sons. My life was mine, defined by me - not my parents, not my extended family, and not my ex-husband. Child support was something that was like dandelions in the wind so I figured out how to broker my degree to the executive administrative assistant ranks. I had my own flat, benefits, my sons in private school and was defining life on my own terms.

Looking back over my life, I see the lessons and the journey. Things that I have experienced have been to shape me and mold me to the woman I am today. I found a voice that became buried in my late twenties under the weight of religion and those oppressive Word of Faith churches or mega-churches. You know the ones, the ones that are welcoming and great at praise and worship, introducing the sinner to Christ, and teaching the unadulterated Word of God. But they are also (not all, but my experience over the last eighteen years) oppressive and put yokes on people that Jesus warned the Pharisees about. I fell under those yokes partly because of those little voices from my childhood condemning because I was divorced with sons. So I threw out my doll collection because it could've been evil spirits, I threw out what little "worldly music" I had, and I put on the long skirts. I was already not really wearing make-up because I loved my natural self so that wasn't hard. I picked up the Bible and devoured the Word of God. It was the best and the worst time of my life.

It was the best because I studied independently and learned what the Lord said. I discovered HIM and loved HIM. And as long as I was focused on HIM, I was fine. The best book, God rest His soul, was written by Bill Bright, The Steps to Christian Maturity. His Bible studies opened up the word like it was a hidden treasure. And it was the worse. Why? So what happened? People! You know, the ones that try to be God and tell you how to live this life? The ones who keep telling you about sin and not about grace. Who can tell you how to live holy except the ONE who is holy himself!

My journey eventually brought me back to myself when I left that metropolitan city and still lived two more years trying to be that rule-keeping woman that the church kept saying I should be. Following a bunch of rules is a yoke and can stifle the spirit. I learned that in my journey.

By the time I was thirty-three I was done with the spiritually-binding, condemning, without-grace churches. I left. I still loved God and embraced HIS word even more. Once I was had my confidence back and was assured that I was not going to hell because I left that church, I was able to forge a new and different relationship with my Savior. Life lessons, HE really does love us and is really intimately involved with us if we look to HIM. And I just talked to him.

In the middle of that journey, I had a great job with a great mentor, probably didn't realize how much I learned from her at the time, not until a decade later. I met some friends who I cherish and hold dear to my heart who are like precious jewels to me. They are the ones who proverbially held my hair back while I threw up, they KNOW me and STILL love me, they are not going anywhere, no matter who comes along.

My writing opened up the possibilities in my voice and people actually asked me to create for them. I took hold of my future and finished that degree, even went on to get a graduate degree. I also was able to be a life-giver, being a living kidney donor with the recipient taking my live and working kidney to the grave - his heart failed but my kidney was still working! He had eight more years of giving knowledge because of that gift.

My life changed in big ways in my mid-thirties. My dad was diagnosed with inoperable cancer and died six months after his diagnosis. He was my rock, a strong, silent, gentle giant. It rocked my world and I still miss him. His death ended a painful chapter of living at 311 Gordon Street. My brother and I stood at his grave site and realized we had no more reason to come back to that city. We had honored him and never disrespected his choice, but we had to also acknowledge the hurt his choice cost us. We put that lost childhood to a proper rest also.

I can never say that the remaining decade from when my dad died was the easiest. Challenges and experiences continue to happen. Learning to live a full life continues, learning to trust oneself is a continuous journey.

Standing in the mirror and looking at my cellulite, I reminded myself of my promise to me a couple years ago. There was still time for me to color my world and start something memorable. And I have. I've written stories and been commissioned with my poetry. This narrative has been a doorway. I've mentored and taught young girls from the vantage point of one who has been there. My nurturing has allowed my cache of children to reach into the double digits, my door always open.

I learned to speak up for what I need and not diminish it because of someone else. It was a woman-lesson because we are often the ones to put our needs aside for the expectations of another. Just recently I had that talk with my husband, kind of a, this is who I am and this is who I will be talk. He had no choice but to listen and realize that I was not going to allow him or anyone else to box me in, I am coloring outside the lines.

Even learning lessons before my birthday, my mama-sister gave me a new word - flourish! I love that word. It was a lesson she gave me sitting at a little table at Park 54 in Hyde Park, Chicago. She reminded me of the destiny still unfolding for me and the path I have yet to travel. She marked a turn in her life by going to South Africa over fifteen years ago. I thought that was so brave and she let me know that same bravery was in me.

I found my voice and now that I have found her, I will not let her go. I will not let anyone bully away my truth or her essence. I will not let anyone rewrite history to absolve themselves of their wrong. I will take chances. I will live life. I think that is the gift of being alive.

When I look at my daughters from my thirteen year relationship and nine year marriage, I realize my life lessons are for them. They are the jewels that spring from my diamond mine. Each one a reflection of the promise from my foremothers. They will be mighty women and will change the world. I cherish the gift they are to my later life, born when I was 37 and 39, respectively. And they will have what I didn't have - a mother to guide them and love them and nurture them and accept them, even if I disagree with their choices. And they will have a mother still adventurous and curious. And a mother true to herself and with a voice to say what she needs. A mother with a voice.

They have a mother that dared to dance. I shed the heavy coat of the "don't" and "can't" and "should'nt" to put on the pashmina of "yes" and "why not" and "try it" and "live life." I danced at my cousin's wedding until all the guests were gone. I reached across the aisle to meet and cherish friends outside my race. I embraced the joie d'vive! And not that I have a hold of her, I am not letting go!

Life lessons are what enables us to be connected to each other, infusing and unfolding the lines, curves, graying hairs, cellulite, and dimples that come with the journey. It has all been worth it.

Living Life and No More Fear

The other day I talked about turning forty-five.

The week or so since that pivotal birthday has been refreshing for me. I have more gray hair, have become comfortable with my wrinkles, and have found a voice that was buried.

There was someone in my life who was always controlling, invading, and simply toxic. I'm sure everyone has that lurking bully, reminiscent of high school gym class, who never seems to find anything good about you. Always accusing and you defending, or always disbelieving and you defending, or simply always condemning and you defending.

Yesterday I said enough. That's it. Life is too short.

Then I realized that our entire country has been under the strangle-hold of a bully. The prior administration, the invading of privacy at the airport, the civil liberties lost, the one ounce of shampoo, all of it has been the work of some big bully making our collective hearts beat too fast for fear of what they would do.

Well, as my father once told me, there are more years behind me than before me. Even if I live to be 90 years old, I intend for the next forty-five years to be fully lived, fully realized, and fully free.

So, if you look up one day and my bags are packed, suitcase in hand, passport tucked in blue jeans pocket, don't be surprised...life is too short and it is meant to be lived! Forget the fear of financial ruin, the banking greed handled that for the country. Forget the fear of what "they" may think, they are no better than the rest of us. Forget the fear and live the gift God gave.

Yep, I love being forty-five, found breath and the joie d'vive!

And It Was Good!

There are some weddings you go to that you are happy for the couple.

Then there are some weddings you go to that are more than a wedding.

And then there was Thom and Joy Foster.

Last night was an absolutely marvelous union of two kindred-souls. There was so much excitement in the air because each had lived and experienced life, each had journeyed to the altar not seeking anything other than a plate of food at a church conference. And then they walked, talked, shared, and he found her.

Joy is really a reflection of Thom's love who reflect God's love to her, the way he looked at her is the way a man should look at the gift of his bride.

Everyone from the mother-of-the-bride down to the little boy who danced the adults off the floor was joyous and celebrated something magnificient.

Welcome to the family my sister-cousin. It is good!

Delaware Diary

I have fallen in love!

Joe Biden country is calling me now.

I flew into Baltimore, Maryland yesterday morning for a wedding tonight in Delaware. My brother-cousin picked me up the the airport for the 1 1/2 hour drive to my hotel in Smyrna. The drive was breathtaking because we crossed the Chesapeake Bay! I looked out the window and saw the most breathtaking site. It was picture-postcard with the boats lined up along the bay and all the coastal homes. The weather was a little gray but and a slight mist swept over the bridge. It was refreshing.

Once we made it to Middletown, Delaware, literally in the middle of the state, my caffeine-deprivation was kicking in full gear. I do not do Starbucks and since I had a 5:50am flight from Lambert, I didn't have a chance to get a descent cup. US Airways has their complimentary coffee and all I can say is "ugh!!!!!"

We were on Mainstreet and I was thinking that a quaint little shop called E's on Mainstreet would have a good cup. Her espresso machine wasn't working! My cousin had a great chai tea but the latte was not happening.

My quest for coffee was interrupted thought with some slightly spice crab cakes from a placed called Immediato's. Let's just say I will come back here just for that. And they have veggie burgers!

The drive to our hotel was pleasant and I figured out that this part of the country, composed of Virginia, Maryland, Delaware, and Pennsylvania, is really just one metro. These are tiny states that have their own flavor. I think Baltimore is more like DC and there really are black people in Delaware!

Once I made it to my room, I took a quick nap, I had only been operating on about two hours of sleep over the last 24 hours. A couple hours later, a refreshing shower, and retwisting my locs and I was ready for a night of partying at the Dover Downs.

I had on some dress jeans, white and black tunic, and hot little black shoes my husband bought me for my birthday. I was ready for the rehearsal dinner and playing the quarter slots (something I had never done before!).

My cousin and his handsome sons picked me up for the short drive to Dover. I saw a few coffee shops as we passed and made him promise to find a way for me to get a descent cup before I left the state - yes, the latte queen needs her caffeine! Anyway, we entered the room filled with lots of love and family. My brother-cousin is certainly blessed to marry my soon-to-be sister-cousin. She is the only girl of five brothers.

Aaron, my cousin's son, and I got our eat on with plates loaded up with vegetables and fruits. He is a deep young man, amateur boxer and spoken word artist. At 29, he is very wise. His is the next wedding in the family. Well, he and I talked and ate and then hit the casino.

Our trip downstairs was inspired by one of the younger cousins and his $50 win off playing $5 in the slot machines. That kids was happy. He really wasn't supposed to be in there but at 17 and 6"3" with a football players shoulders, that little lady at the door wasn't carding him! I thought, ok, I've never done this before, have some fun. Well, I was overwhelmed by all the machines in the room! I told Aaron I had to find a latte first!

Finally, finally, finally I found a good one. In the Dover Downs Hotel, in the lobby with all the other little shops was a little place called Sweet Perks. Ok, I was back alive with a white mocha! I will come back there before I leave if I have to because it is close, near a mall, and of course I need my caffeine!

With latte in hand, a couple $5 bills, Aaron and I set off to find a machine.

There is a strategy behind it. He told me in Vegas the older people walk the rooms and watch who has been on a machine for along time, then they sit down, play a few dollars and then hit.

I just wanted to say I tried a new experience so I popped in my $5 (the machines would not take $1 bills which is what I wanted to do at first.) Well, I hit the button, lights when off, the little wheels started rolling and then...nothing! We went to another machine, our intention was to find the quarter slots but that room was HUGE. Anyway, I lost two lattes worth and that was enough for my speed.

Aaron and I then went out to the fountain, talked some more, and just waited for rides back to our hotel in Smyrna. It turned out, this new hotel is filled with family for the wedding, we have the entire third floor.

Once back in my room, I refreshed, retwisted my locs, and crawled into bed ALONE. That was glorious. I was able to nuzzle under the covers without arms, legs, or noise.

This morning sent me on a quest for coffee. I'm not in love with Wawa. One of the younger cousins told me they had good coffee. She was right, not a latte, but a good cup of coffee, a toasted cinnamon raisin bagel and some berry cream cheese. I am good now.

Delaware will likely see more of me. I have yet to get to the beach and am not sure what is planned for this afternoon. Well for me it will be a little work, a little sleep. The rest of them are getting ready for the wedding. I have to practice the piece I wrote for the ceremony.

The energy in the air is because these two are beautiful people. Both of them have lived a life, each with children from previous marriages. Their journey allowed their paths to cross and they are kindred spirits. Simply made for each other and I would journey again across the country, even without caffeine to witness this coming together!

My Delaware Diary continues!

Mommies, Memories, and Messes

The other day it was my birthday and my husband surprised me with a fantastic party. He gathered together some of the people I love most in the world and brought them to my home to celebrate the day my mother brought forth my essence.

Mother's Day always has me thinking and reflecting. First because the day always comes right after my son and I have our birthdays. I bring up the memory of my father who used to tease that he wanted three presents in June because Father's Day was always two weeks before his birthday and wedding anniversary. "I don't want them all lumped into one." Thankfully, my husband has always managed to make the three early May celebrations unique and distinct. The day ends with me feeling special and appreciated for bringing six lives into this world, five of whom are still here to share it with me.

Then Mother's Day brings up other memories because it is always about a week before what would be my own mother's birthday.

Mothers are always a missing piece for me and they are the one thing I crave. I often find myself appropriating my elderly aunts, cousins, or friends' mothers for my own. Perhaps losing mine at age four has left an indelible hole in my soul.

MS took my mother away from me and my younger brother before we even knew who we were. I think both of us have spent parts of the last 41 years wondering what it would've been like. The only thing we have are pictures and stories of my late father or siblings or relatives who tell us of her beauty, her writing, her spirit. As great as these stories are, I just know there had to be some mess.

One thing I can't stand is a messy house and I guess after having all the kids I do, I should be used to a little junk. Top that with a majority male household and you can only imagine how the laundry overflows or the dirty socks under the table or the Friday night howl out party in the family room. So I think that perhaps my mother, who at the time of her death had six children, wanted what I want...someone else to do the chores.

Yes, that is the ultimate Mother's Day Gift - the people who make the messes to actually be the ones to clean those messes. From the dishes to the laundry to the toilets, let them do it. That would be bliss. To not have to hang up someone else's wet towel or tell the teenager I'm not sure what is growing under his bed or hold back from fussing at the husband's shoes under the dining table or stepping on yet another of the daughters' baby dolls.

Messes perhaps are the memories of motherhood, who knows, but I do know that almost universal, moms would love to have the house cleaned and not have to hire someone to do it, that would make the day glorious!

So as I finish up my celebration week of my son and I having great birthdays and gathering some air in the St. Louis spring to summer brutality on asthma, I muse about tomorrow and wonder, if like me,my mom just wanted a cup of coffee, the sounds of life...and a clean house.

My Born Day

This is the day the universe opened up the chasm and birthed me out.

This is the day that love united and the nerve damaged ravages of MS never prevented essence from pushing out life.

This is the day strength and comfort held the tiny form of womanhood and promised to always protect and cherish.

This is the day life breathed out possibility and purpose and promise

This is the day meaning came to "priceless, of inestimable value and great worth"

This is my born day and I thank essence and love and strength for nurturing the joy of my being.

Today is My Son's 15th Birthday

So much on my mind today.

My baby boy turned 15 years old at 3:22am today. Has it really been that long? The essence of him fills my thoughts even now.

I think about how my life has changed over the last 15 years as a result of birthing this talented young man. Chicago no longer became my home when this child was still a babe-in-arms at 2 1/2 months. He was 5 years younger than my now middle son. I could not believe I had a baby boy at my age. Back then it seemed old to have a child at 29 years, 11 months, 363 days. Now it is more commonplace.

This son of mine is all teenager, he is goofy, loves his action figures, is great at singing, acting, dancing, musical instruments. He is intelligent and disorganized. He can be annoying and is always loving. He gives great hugs even though at 5'8" he is all sticks and bones. My organic and vegetarian quest has found a friend in him, he is a germaphobe and seems to want to don gloves before taking out the trash.

He wants a skateboard for his birthday, that or a BMX bike, clothes, or a new XBox360, as if he didn't have enough electronic games already. He told me the other day he just wanted to be a kid. On the menu? Chinese food and carrot cake.

I look at this son and cherish him in my life. He is one of the reasons I take a breath every morning and will be in my spirit when I close my eyes tonight.

Today is my son's 15th birthday and I celebrate his presence.