I Want My Mommy

One thing people never tell you as you age and mature – along with the wealth of wisdom they’re usually willing to impart with you is that reaction, that basic instinctual response to distress or hurt NEVER. EVER. LEAVES YOU. Almost 34 years old, I experienced a level of emotional pain that regressed me to almost saying that phrase with a sob yesterday. Of course you don’t actually say the words but the general sentiment / desire is there. The want to run to her and have her envelope you in her arms, stroke your head and ears and allow you to cry or be scared or feel defeated for just long enough until she says the words that ONLY FEEL GOOD WHEN SHE SAYS THEM::

It’s ok baby. Everything will be alright.

Think of how many other people you’ve heard say that to you in times of crisis. Honestly…. Did you ever believe any of them as much as you did your mom?

There was a protection in those words that made you KNOW you’d be alright. That somehow, she might help you. Protect you. Advocate for you and then truly…. All would end up being righted. And at the very least, she would be that shore you could return to when the waters of life proved to be too choppy. No matter how old – there with a warm touch, a soft gentle word and maybe even your favorite meal or dessert to comfort further.

It’s truly adulthood when you realize that you can’t have your mommy and you MUST figure it out on your own. It’s the emotional equivalent of standing in the middle of a desert alone and seeing the sandstorm whipping around on the horizon.

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Expendable

aka… Drop Everything!

We’ve heard the statement so many times before. “Drop EVERYTHING” – sometimes in commercials for a really good sale. Sometimes from the lips of friends who did it to get to some exclusive event. Sometimes from people who’ve gone through life’s changes and needed to focus on one thing – school, work, a new baby, a new lover… When someone comes to you and says

DROP EVERYTHING!!

What is your everything? What’s expendable? What would you put on the back burner in lieu of the urgent thing that has come across your path? What’s reasonable to ignore and what would still demand your attention despite your urgency? Your job? Your friends? Your marriage? Your children? Your bills? Your organizational responsibilities? What is “everything” to you that something else can usurp?

Recently, I’ve been examining what different folks view as being expendable in OTHER people’s lives. For instance… in a candid conversation with my Godmother, my mom actually admitted that she thought one of us (my brother or myself) would quit our jobs and come be with her 24/7 while she’s in the nursing facility. Although she later rescinded that as being irrational… the thought crossed her mind that our everything else was less important than her needs. She was even convinced that if my dad was still alive… he might have dropped his everything to be with her. In this instance, I’m grateful that he passed before her so that she would not have to be proven wrong. Of that? I’m positive.

It’s an important question to ask yourself. What in your life can take a back seat should something “more important” come up. I put that in quotes because urgency and importance are fleeting. One day important… next day… back of mind.

My EVERYTHING is exempt of my immediate family, my marriage and my job. I need them all. One to pay for bills and sustain what little lifestyle I have… and the others… well… because I love him and need him and made a promise to him. And I do so try to be a woman of my word. And my family… well.. to me? that’s’ a given. No replacing them. Sadly enough given the events of the last few weeks… I realize that I’m NOT exempt from his everything and could be indeed… expendable.

The first time I heard that word was at a job training. They explained to us that the way to NOT get fired… is to make yourself invaluable. Do something for the company that they feel could not be duplicated by someone else. That way? They have to keep you indefinitely.

I am desperately looking for that trait…

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I Can’t Make You Love Me

Sometimes… I hear a song and it has an indelible memory attached to it. Actually – this happens more often than not. One friend recently accused me of being so lost in a song that provoked a memory so intense that my company was useless at that time. I was so busy reminiscing. I feel music that way sometimes. And these memories are kind of locked in my head (for safe keeping). I figured, before I become too feeble minded… let me log them here.

“I Can’t Make You Love Me” – Bonnie Raitt.

I know – NOT your typical fare for a hip hop and r&b music lover. But I’ve always advocated to my friends about country music. That shit? Is real. If you wanna hear about some heartache… Get yourself some Kenny Rogers… or some Dolly Parton… or Bonnie…

First time I heard about this song, I was in high schoool… maybe about 14 or so. And there were THE Couples in HS. You know… the ones that you just knew were going to graduate and go to the same college and end up getting married and be able to tell the story that they were “High School Sweethearts”. (Little did I know I’d end up being on of those couples – but we also know that the ending promised to us doesn’t always go that way). Anyway… THE BLACK couple at school like that were Charlotte and John. John and Charlotte. Anywhere in Saint Francis Prep that you went and said “Charlotte and John” – people knew… that was REAL love. They were going to get married and have BEAUTIFUL babies. Charlotte was (is – I’m SURE she’s still alive somewhere) light skinned, had very prominent “indian” features; LONG (mid back length) thick dark wavy hair. Small frame. (like mine… back then). Delicate hands, delicate features. And a soft lilty voice when she sang in choir (which is where I knew her from). John was dark chocolate… low cut Caesar / bald… brawny. Gentle in his ways but you could tell he was tough. No nonsense. And he loved his woman. What a powerful trumpeter when he did his solos in the Jazz Ensemble. They were going to be together FOREVER…

Until they weren’t.

And no one knows why. Some blamed John. Charlotte blamed him… once when we spoke about it. It was much like speaking to your parents about their divorce. You KNOW it’s none of your business… but you’d hope they’d share the pitfalls with you so that perhaps you can avoid them should you ever stumble across a similar situation. So me, being only a sophomore and her being a senior… I listened. I listened carefully.

She spoke of the hurt. She spoke of the pain of realization that nothing was ever going to be the sam and how she’d have to come to terms with that… And how funny it was that when people were driving down their blocks bumping Onyx or Tribe… here she was… playing “I Can’t Make You Love Me” at the height of her jeep’s speaker’s abilities. Trying to emote to the world what was happening to her. And for me – the outsider – I couldn’t FATHOM how John couldn’t LOVE her… how he might put her in a position to feel so unloved and unwelcome and unwanted. She was beautiful. She was his… Back then… it was so hard to wrap my mind around.

It really really isn’t anymore. Some realizations come with time and experience. And this has become a favorite song of mine over the years.

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I Want To Go Home…

We’ve said it all of our lives.

Sometimes… we’re caught in the rain or snow. Or whatever unfavorable climate.

Sometimes… we’ve had a really bad day at school. Or at work.

Sometimes… we’ve been somewhere … we really don’t want to be.

And all we can think of… are the comforts of home. Everyone knows us there. Everything familiar is there. And that’s the only place in the world we can imagine ourselves being. It’s almost like… as soon as we walk through the doors, we get to leave everything that ails us on the other side of it. It’s our safe haven. Our sanctuary. Our refuge.

Those words have never had quite the same tone on them and will never for those of you who’ve never heard them uttered by a loved one who is sick and / or dying.

“I want to go home.”

It’s the most dispiriting phrase at times… because you don’t know what you can do about it. Or even if that’s the best choice or not.

They’re discharging mom on Wednesday.

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The Black List

HBO’s Documentary – The Black List

If you’ve not seen it – definitely something to make time for. Just hearing these people talk about the Black Experience in America and in the world from their different accomplished points of view made for a very uplifting night. A polar opposite to the “how-unfortunate-are-we” regard from the CNN “Black In America”. Not to say that there wasn’t truth in it, but if you’re telling a story, tell the WHOLE story.

My faves: Toni Morrison (go Soror) on what freedom really means to her; Kareem Adbdul Jabar and his story of meeting and becoming friends with Miles Davis; Chris Rock and the gross exaggerations of White America concerning the Black Experience; Al Sharpton on how we have given the “hip hop” generation nothing to hold on to (you have to hear it, I was QUITE surprised to be in agreement with him); Even Sean Puffy-Pop-P-Diddy-Papa Combs sounded sincere about his “rise” (but I know better than to ever think a sincere word could be uttered by him… it just SOUNDED so).

Biggest Surprise?
This guy right here:

Slash of Guns 'N' Roses fame

One of my favorite guitarists HANDS DOWN. But I always assumed that given the company of his first famous band affiliation, Guns ‘n’ Roses, well… that he was white. But he popped up on The Black List Documentary as one of the first people to offer his commentary and I sat there the whole time like… Slash is black???? REALLY???? But I wasn’t the only one… Contrary to what my co-worker wants me to believe.

Everyone’s a critic!

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