Skip to main content

Determined - Anyway

 My oldest son and I were up early this second day of Kwanzaa.

I am already an early riser and so is he.

He is visiting from Missouri for the holidays and was getting all this gear packed.

Both of us missed to family message that his flight had been cancelled.

So we were blissfully going down our checklist, secretly happy that we had the day planned out with plenty of time to drive from Connecticut to New York for his would've been evening flight.

"Your flight has been cancelled and the earliest day is January 2nd."

Now for me, I smiled a bit and hugged him, thankful that he is an entrepreneur with his own custom sneaker design and restoration business. He is his own boss.

"Thanks, Mama."

And in the next minute, "I need to call my partners."

He and two of his business partners have a unique business in the Kansas City Metro Area that compliments their target audience - studio work, tattoo, custom sneakers.

We both smiled for a minute and just like that, had the day given back to us and more time, it would be the first time in some years that he will be with us for the new year.

Four of my five children were here for Christmas and the sons were set to leave within a day of each other. The youngest son was a car ride away. 

The blessing is that we have a big comfortable home for everyone to spread out and that since he is his own boss, he doesn't have to contact an employer to explain about Southwest Airlines and the weather that dumped lifetime snow on Buffalo, New York, disrupting thousands of flights. He already had to deal with not having his luggage for two days coming here because they lost it in Chicago. He adjusted and of course, I had a welcome kit waiting for him that had enough to sustain him until his cold bags arrived just before Christmas.

We spend our lives adjusting to unexpected events. As a business owner, he took it in stride.

On the other hand, as an entrepreneur, if he doesn't work, he doesn't eat, technically.

Like every creative, his wheels started turning, he already did some restoration work for me and his sisters .


It isis determination to have joy anyway, to see the bright side. His flight was supposed to be in the evening and not our family usual of early morning. We would have already been up and out at 3:30am on the way to New York and then would have been at the airport when the cancellation news came through.

We are in the comfort of our home and he is not like hundreds of others stranded in cities across the country without the love of family.

Maybe that is part of the broader lessons in this final week of the year and going into 2023.

Setbacks can happen, the unexpected can happen, the thing is how do we deal with it.

For my son, he was like, "well, I'm already mostly packed, so I will just use these couple outfits for the rest of the week and enjoy myself."

I told him it will all work out for his business and maybe he can expand to the Northeast.

"I'm not worried about it, mama."

We both enjoyed another cup of rosemary brown sugar coffee and the tranquility of home.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

©2022. All Rights Reserved. Enjoying the comfort of family in Connecticut. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Hannah's Song

We came together last night and sang Hannah's song. Family from California was in town, it was the night before Aunt Hannah's Home Going Celebration. We met at my house late in the evening to fellowship, remember, hug, eat, and laugh. Thom felt the love in the room and I'm sure his mom would've appreciated us doing what she did all her life - love. Aunt Hannah was a gracious woman. Her gentle spirit, sparkling eyes, and constant smile will be remembered. She has left us physically, but never spiritually. The laughter was like music in Thom's ear. For the first time in weeks I saw my cousin relax. He has been in a tornado for the past four weeks from his mother's diagnosis to her death. Even in her final stage, Aunt Hannah was granted her desire. She asked to not suffer long when it was her time to go, she had been a caregiver her whole life and I'm sure her prayer was for her son. In the last days of her life, she still greeted well wishers with a wa...

Brothers, Can we Talk?

 I'm a Black woman, born of a Black woman and a Black man. When my mother died, it was my father who nurtured me and instilled in me a sense of pride of self, of my race, of my abilities to do whatever I put my mind to do. He never imposed limitations on me as a Black woman. The only caution he ever gave me was to not burn my candle at both ends and to be mindful of my health, I am an asthmatic. He never stopped me from trying anything and always encouraged me. Daddy was a strong Black man who introduced me to Shirley Chisholm when I was a little girl. He reminded me of the fortitude of my late mother's quest for gender equality in the workplace and of the namesake who marched at Selma.  He is the one who gave me my pseudonym, Tayé. Daddy was a strong tower of empowerment and fought all the way to his last breath for social, gender, and racial justice. It is in remembering my father this morning that I'm asking the brothers, can we talk? What is it, especially those of my g...

Ashes to Ashes

 This is Ash Wednesday. For a lot of Catholics and Anglican Christians, it begins the holy season of Lent. We remember we are but dust and to dust we return, ashes to ashes.  It is a somber reminder of our humanity and the finality of life. We are a mere breath. Today, as a Hospital Chaplain Resident, I am imposing ashes on patients, family, and staff. It is a visible marker of a shared faith and belief. We look with anticipation to the finished work of salvation on the cross and in eager hope of the resurrection. As my day progressed, I noticed how much hope was in the eyes of the ones giving and receiving this reminder of our existence. It was both a somber moment and a joyful moment. Two things can exist at the same time. Like the world we find ourselves in. Even as it seems like the darkest, certainly the darkest I’ve known in my six decades on this earth. Completely imperfect as a nation, there was still a glimmer of light until the nightmare became reality. We wonder abo...