Beautiful

This morning’s song came directly from the heavens.

Truly Beautiful

I lost my Maternal Grandmother in August of 2001. It was earth shattering for me, because in my life at the time that would be the first “real” family member that died. You know how it is. Various “other” people die that are distant… and you feel poorly. But Granny RAISED me. She sat with me and my brother when we watched TV. Chased us around the house when it was time to wash up and go to bed. She took every spoon of porridge and blew on it good before I ate it so I wouldn’t burn my tongue. She hummed sweetly when she washed the dishes and her voice boomed low when she was upset (man… when that woman frowned… it was so serious – luckily, she didn’t do it often). She was diagnosed with breast cancer a few years before I entered high school, struggled with the idea of a mastectomy, lamenting “I fed my children with my breasts…” but eventually knew what she had to do. Had the surgery, did her very painful and sickening rounds of chemo, lost all her hair and then grew it back into the cutest little silver fro. The whole experience was harrowing for her but she took it like a champ. When she was in remission she decided she wanted to venture out and live on her own… experience something new (mind you … she was about 60 something at this time). So she moved to Ft. Lauderdale where her 2nd youngest son, Wilhelm, bought her a ranch home in one of those new communities (new back then). And I remember seeing the station wagon driving her away from us down Denman street for the long 24 hour trek… and I cried… and cried and cried. I didn’t want her to go… She’d been a part of my life from day one. But she felt like she had to move on for herself for once. And that was my first lesson in letting go of a loved one.

She lived down there for a few years and we made our visits to her – for Christmas when we drove down (My brother and I have countless laughable memories about this ride down); when mom sent us for summer vacation for 2 weeks when I was 14 – perfect timing as I was getting over breaking up with my “first” boyfriend; and she made her visits up to us and they were brief and far between. She was enjoying her time down there, meeting new people. But it was a big house and she was all by herself. One day mom was feverishly trying to contact her. She’d been complaining of not feeling well so mom was being a good daughter and checking. But to no avail. She asked one of her nearby neighbors to go in and check on her and found her on the floor, barely audible… barely moving. She had had a “mini” stroke. After a brief hospitalization, they packed up her stuff and rushed her back to New York where we could all keep watchful eye. But she went through her rehab pretty effortlessly and made what seemed to be a full recovery. During this time she was in a building about 7 – 10 blocks away from our apartment building. Not a heavy trek at all, but more “work” than the apartment she previously had which was around the corner from our building. I made those trips to visit her sparingly. By this time, I was almost out of college… “busy” doing my own thing; growing up and becoming a woman. I didn’t have time to make visits like I did when I was kid. (shaking my head thinking about how much time I wasted where I could have been with her … enjoying her… ) The years started to go on and there was a wear and tear on my mother to keep visiting her out there as my mom’s health was beginning to decline now and she had to rely on my father to take her to see her mother more and more (which -if you knew my dad back then… NOT. COOL). They saw less and less of each other but they spoke numerous times a day on the phone.

Finally at one point an apartment opened up RIGHT next door to us and we jumped on it. Spoke to the management company so they wouldn’t put it on the market and lock it down so that we could get Granny in there. It was perfect – a one bedroom… and it was literally? NEXT DOOR. Coming off the elevator to head to our own apartment, we’d pass that door. I thought gleefully to myself… Oh my god… it’ll be SO EASY to visit her now!!! I’ll see her every day!!

We helped pack her up and carefully moved her to the new apartment. She expressed a great deal of excitement to be so close to us too. We all couldn’t wait. We got all her personal effects in the apartment; set her up real nice like… shared some coffee and chatter with her at our apartment before she made the long trek back to apartment down the hall. Only about an hour or two went by before mayhem ensued. One of us was holding up the bathroom in our own apartment. And so my father took this opportunity to maximize use of the brand new bathroom that had made itself available right next door instead of fussing with whoever was holding up the progress. He got to grandmas apt and something wasn’t wright. She was laid out abnormally on the bed, muttering something about “always be there… i… will… always… be there…” over and over. Her temperature had shot up and her gaze was distant. We called 911 and all the siblings and everyone made it back to her in record time. The ambulance came and took her away to Elmhurst Hosptial (closest hospital for an emergency and worst. decision. ever). I remember NOT hearing the ambulance put on it’s sirens when it drove away that night with my Granny and wondering… what was so NON urgent about her not being well. I feel angry about it till today. Even though five months would pass while she deteriorated under the lack of care at EH – I felt that the need for her care was URGENT. She would appear to be making a comeback… and then get sick again. There was a question of bedsores that were forming but weren’t being taken care. I never saw it / them but I understood one bore down damned near to her tail bone. She would eventually start having respiratory problems and they would intubate her. At first it was pretty voluntary… but soon, it became the only thing keeping her animated. And what a miserable animation. Watching that machine literally fill her full of air and pull the air away. Abnormally jerking her body up and down. And then…. there was the gurgle…. *shudders* I can’t even bring myself to describe it. Out of the 5 months that she was there… she’d spend about 3 1/2 of them in this condition. Deteriorating every day. Recognizing faces less and less. Not being able to converse due to the tube in her throat with this MISERY in her eyes. And soon she animated less and less.

The afternoon of August 8th, which was a Wednesday, we got a frantic call from mom to drop everything and hurry to the hospital right away. My brother, Earl and I were all at work… so we hurried, met up at times square 7 train station and rode into Queens together. But it was rush hour. And there were train delays. Everything was backed up. We were stuck between the express stop of Queenboro Plaza and 61st and Woodside, when we got the call from mommy that she was gone. I fell apart right on the train. My brother kept up a good manly face, but he’d just lost his second mommy too. We got to the hospital… had a chance to say goodbye to her through the empty shell she left behind… just in case she could still hear and went home to plan the next few days.

A few weeks after we interred her body, I had to go away on business for training. A day trip at best but they sent me flying. As I sat in my window seat with my CD Walkman playing the new india.arie album, Acoustic Soul, I looked out over the clouds and remember stories of being told how heaven was up here… here in the clouds and sky. So if I’d ever be close to Grandma again, this was it. Staring into the clouds… maybe hoping that I’d see a glimpse of her… I heard her instead. Over gentle guitar and drum. Finally explaining why she really left…

“The time is right… I’m gonna pack my bags
And take this journey down the road
Cause over the mountains I see the bright sun shining
And I want to live inside the glow.

I want to go to a place where, I am nothing and everything
That exists between here and nowhere
I wanna go to a place where… time has no consequence and oh yeah…
the sky opens to my prayers…
I wanna go to Beautiful”

It might have been india singing… but these were my Grandmother’s words. Calling up images of the 5 months of suffering… the long life of hard decisions and sickness… and letting me know that where she is now… it’s better. It’s beautiful. It’s without pain or suffering and I shouldn’t lament her being gone – instead… rejoice that she’s at peace. The message was clear and I accepted it.

Lately, I’ve been hearing the song here and there… in a movie… in passing at the station… but I don’t stay to listen to it for fear that it’ll dredge up all sorts of emotions that I’m not ready to deal with yet. The anniversary of my mother’s passing is coming fast upon me and I’m not sure how I’ll handle it all. So it would come on and I’d walk away or turn off whatever media was streaming it and keep it moving. Driving alone yesterday there was NOTHING on the radio so I plugged in my ipod and put it on shuffle. First song to play…. Beautiful. I heard the guitar strum and the intial drum beat and started to chuckle to myself. Aloud I said, “Alright Granny… you win. What are you trying to tell me?” So I listened and sung along and took note of the 2nd Verse this time.

“Please understand that it’s not that I don’t care
But right now these walls are closing in on me
I love you more than I love life itself
But I need to find a place where I can breathe… I… can… breathe

I wanna go to place where I can hold the intangible
AND LET GO OF THE PAIN WITH ALL OF MY MIGHT
I wanna go to a place where I’m suspended in ecstacy
Somewhere between dark and light
Where wrong becomes right…”

Again, Grandma was telling me to listen as a message from Mom and Dad… mostly Mom, though… as I’d spend so much time before she died wondering… why she didn’t feel that Domi and I were good enough for her to consider as a reasons to live and persevere. Everyone needs a reason… why weren’t her children as good of a reason as her husband? And it burned and tortured me… But it wasn’t about ME. It was about all the circumstances wrapped up together. The longer I live with my relatively still new husband… the more I can’t imagine life without him. And we’ve been “together” for 10 years in December… married for 2 and 1/2 now. She’d been with daddy for 38 years. Regardless of what happened between them that was bad… they had so much history. And towards the end… they leaned on, nay, clung to each other – even if it might have been in fear. Between losing her own mom… losing her husband and feeling truly alone and that she was really losing this battle with her body’s ills…. she had to let go of the pain…with all of her might. What IMAGERY that gives me. It was so powerful that I had to pull over and sob right in the car. She had to go. I understand now.

It doesn’t hurt LESS… but I think Grandma gave me the keys to let go of the idea that any of this was MY fault.

Thank you Granny. I miss you and mommy INFINITELY.

*

The Healer

so many religions...

“Humdi Lila, Allah, Jehovah, Yahweh, Dios, Ma’at, Jah, Rastafara, Fire, Dance, Sex, Music, Hip Hop…”
Erykah Badu

This morning’s song battled for another in my head, but they’re from the same album. This particular songs music took over in my dreams and colored it with pretty red sashes and gold trims and decorative gold jewelery dangling from foreheads and waistlines. It’s a very calming and motivating song all at once. Her lyrics are wonky… but if you really try to see where she’s coming from – they’re not all weird. The words go on to explain how Hip Hop is bigger than religion and I feel where Erykah’s coming from. Reminding all that I’m not a huge proponent of RELIGION per se. But I’ll support a strong spiritual link and engagement with your maker (whatever you call him / her / it). To those that were there from the very beginning – or for those whose perspective on life was altered as a result, Hip Hop gave them something new to believe in and was definitely a force to be reckoned with. Yes. I said “was”. I’m one of THOSE types. There isn’t too much more insight I can give into the song beyond encouraging folks to listen.

This song does call to mind another mingling of ideologies to blend them for musical (social) purposes. I’ll forewarn — hearing this song AFTER knowing Coolio’s Gangsta Paradise is difficult at first… but only at first. Once you get a taste of the original, you’re hooked and the gangter’s nirvana becomes a distant faded memory. Stevie began in the homeland with the constant gourd shaker then took essential classical strings and married them to the conga drum and laid it all on a bed of hare krishna chants and bells clanging in conjunction with the shaker and all the while a gospel choir sings “We Shall Over Come” — and beyond all that, his words call out the injustices people wield onto one another. You really? don’t get artists who take THAT MUCH TIME to get one point across. Stevie got you at many angles – subconsciously if you’re one of those types that only listens to the music and not the words and right up front with the wording. After peeling back the layers and listening to how he brought it all together, Stevie solidified his position as one of my top 3 favorite artists of all time.

Finally the song I mentioned earlier that was jocking for position in my head with Erykah’s Healer was off the same New Amerykah album. Makes sense that they were coupled together because it’s the immediate next song. It’s called “Me”. Very deeply insightful song for her. Not overly adventurous musically – but she opens up her heart and pours out her feelings about growing older, her body changing, raising children from different fathers, being in the public eye. And to those who may find her “strange” they get a glimpse of her being quiet normal and introspective.

I guess we can look for the Healer anywhere we want. But it’s always something we end up finding in ourselves. Good to know that you never have to go too far…

Creeeeepy…. LOL
*

You’re Like a Diamond…

“… But she treats you like Glass
Yet you beg her to love you…
But me, you don’t ask.”
– Gladys Knight and the Pips

Jealousy is a disease...

So this morning’s song(s) are courtesy of my co-worker / sister Drenna. Her FB status updated and firmly planted this song in my head. And her comment on her own status after posting similar lyrics was “I just sang that song HARD in my pillow like I was Gladys,” and I felt her. I remember hearing and singing that song and having it touch me in a special place.

In all honesty, I think most women have probably shared a view from this same vista. Watching someone that you could love with all your might and make him as happy as you know he could be but he pines away for someone who isn’t worth his time and effort. And you sit there at times from afar (or maybe not so far) trying to gently convince him w/o breaking boundaries that maybe… maybe being with HER isn’t such a great idea for his life. Gently. And it can spin off in a million directions from there. He could completely ignore you. He could take you up on that suggestion and start dating someone else. He could decide to stay with her AND somehow be with you. All roads, with your rose colored glasses of what your particular future with him could be like, lead to fuckery. But it’s so impossible to see situations as they should be when you’re the one afflicted with “love” or “infatuation” as it were. You just know you could do better for him – appreciate him the way he “deserves” to be. There have been a MILLION songs written to express the same sentiments shared by women looking on as they “spend the rest of their lives knowing that someone else is married to their husband” (copyright When Harry Met Sally). A more recent version of the same sentiment was expressed over heavy beats and staccato piano by Mary J. Blige and Li’l Kim in “I Can Love You”. In the 90′s there wasn’t a girls head that wasn’t bopping to this jam. So I included it in the playlist.

Truth be told, I’ve been in that situation more times that I care to count. To say that my marriage sprouted from such a situation would be an exaggeration. Yes, he was in love with some silly girl who had NO idea what she had in her possession. But at the time that I found Earl romantically — HE had already made the decision that he could do better. I mean… it was after learning that she’d slept with… well… everyone. And when Earl is done? He’s effin’ DONE. So I didn’t have to compete with her in that regard. I did, however, have to fight her off a few times as she (of course) came to the realization of what Earl could have been to her later and she tried to *ahem* reclaim what was hers. Y’all that know me? Knows that was NEVER. HAPPENING. But the essential is that the lynch pin in the decision is HIM feeling like he can be loved better by someone else. Till that happens? You’ll just be in the corner pining and wasting your precious lifetime when you can find someone else who can belong all to you and appreciate all this love you have to give.

I’ve also been on the flip side… where some girl convinced my then man that she could do better for him – and he believed her enough to see her behind my back. And upon finding out, I’ll let him be with her instead, cause I didn’t want to have anything to do with that anymore. Well… those relationships never lasted long… but I ALWAYS found myself in at least one situation where he was there with his new girl… and she was giving me the side eye like I wanted anything more to do with them. And the last song on my list would have been PERFECT as a soundtrack.

It’s always better to put that lamenting energy in to finding someone just for you instead of making yourself crazy for someone who could give a shit.

(friends reading this off of my facebook feed who can’t see the playlist, click on “View Original Post” before the comment box to go to my blog and listen to the songs )

*

All Through The Night

Reppin' to the fullest for Queens, NY

I’m thinking I’m going to use the phenomenon I expressed in the previous blog to get me on here every day. I’ve been kind of trapped in my own head and I’m battling to get out. It’s not a bad thing… I just miss blogging. It’s freeing.

So the premise I’ll use to get some thoughts out every day is the Song of the Day in my head. I wake up every single morning with one song in my head. I usually don’t know where it came from. Sometimes it’s because I heard the song some time during the day. Usually? I don’t and it’s an offshoot of my dreams or the very last discussion I had before I went to sleep. And usually, it’s a song I’ve not thought about in AGES. Which gives just a touch more testimony to the amazing data space in our minds that we’ve yet to harness. I’m positive in my head I have cataloged over a million songs. And all I need is just a few notes from it to completely jog my memory of the song and it’s like i never forgot it. Earl marvels at this phenomenon when we watch TV. I know THE MOST obscure songs and he just sits there counting them off while I sing “Twenty two thousand, six hundred and forty three…” he’ll mumble as I belt off yet another song that he knows nothing of.

The funny thing (and this is just a bit of an aside) is how much a part of my life singing and performing used to be… and how much so many people in my life now have no idea that I can LOL! It truly took a back seat to becoming an adult and getting a job and making a living… But don’t catch me in the shower… or in my car… or alone with the stereo. Some folks have indulged with me (*winks at Kimmy for our numerous wonderous car duets*) and some folks have gotten in trouble with me (*smiles at Max cause my neighbor put a kabosh on our musical evening that time*) and some just listen and enjoy on rides home or away. I’ll never get too far from how music makes me feel. It was said best in “August Rush” (great movie, by the way) that you can’t give up on your music because it’s what you’ll turn to when you’re feeling sad or need to regroup and definitely what you’ll use to express your happiness and excitement. 9 times out of 10, if I cite a song to anyone… it’s not really JUST for the music… there’s a message I want them to hear in the words coupled with the flow of the song. I thought everyone was this way, but it might just be me… which is why I think very carefully before I tell anyone “Hey… have you heard this song?” Because once they listen to it… I want them to know that had I the chops? I would have written that for them but since that artist beat me to it… here is what I’d like to say to you… so really listen. Words escape me a lot. Thank GOD for singers and songwriters.

Back to the In high school I shared a respectful observance of my best friend Nicky’s obsession with Cyndi Lauper. It was easy not to take her seriously back then with the multicolored crazy version of Madonna’s virgin. And all the hiccuping sounds, funky body gyrations and the nasal weirdness that she purposefully put forth. But if you leaned in just a touch closer past all of that… she’s a POWER HOUSE. An 8 octave range achieved EFFORTLESSLY (you RARELY see that anymore), a musician with proficiency in guitar, piano, trombone, electric bass, percussion and as demonstrated on American Idol – Appalachian dulcimer. She writes and produces her own lyrics and music. All that to say is that she’s a force to be reckoned with. Hanging out with Nicky gave me an in depth look into her catalog – one that I wouldn’t have had if he hadn’t been there to help. So last nights song is courtesy of Cyndi – “All Through the Night”. However, there are 2 other Cyndi songs that I love and never got enough play at all that I’ll try to include in the listing below just to open up minds to something new (no message here folks LOL). The first is “I’m Gonna Be Strong” – the original one- off her first album “Blue Angel” – this didn’t get any radio play as far as I remember, however, I still have the black cassette tape TDK with the white label that Nicky made for me and how often I RAN that song after one particular break up. Some songs are really therapeutic that way. The second is “I Drove All Night” which is innately sensual and inviting and I feel in this song, she didn’t try to disguise her talent behind any gimmick or strangeness. She let you have it all the way.

Okay folks – enjoy my trip back to the 80s

*

A Most Glorious Trend

My nights have been pretty restful lately. My whole body is changing, so that’s changed the way I do nearly everything. I’m good and sleepy by 10 / 10:30PM, my body POPS awake at 5:00 (even though I wrestle with it to sleep for just a half hour more – not cause I’m tired, but because the bed just FEELS so good). And every morning I wake up with a song in my head. As if someone had put an earphone in and left a song on repeat. I’ve been trying to find a way to catalog all the various songs I wake up with because they usually determine how my day will be. This morning’s song was Marvin Gaye’s “You Sure Love to Ball” (but mostly because I heard the song just once during the day — I guess that’s all it takes…) And there are CERTAINLY worse songs… I love that song. I think it colored my dream though so I thank Marvin in advance for setting the mood.

I dreamt that my hubby and I were getting married… but it was our first time getting married. NOTHING like our actual wedding. There were far less people involved and I want to say that I was pregnant in the dream, but not apparently to the world… just he and I knew. And we were both overwhelmed with happiness and excitement. So all of this seems pretty normal — except that I didn’t normally dream about the man laying next to me… cause you know… he’s right there, and why dream if i can just turn over and tahdaaah? But lately, when I close my eyes… there he is. Wooing me and loving me even in my dream world. So when I do wake up and roll over, I’m just doting on him. And he doesn’t mind that one bit. In my dream world he’s a much more verbally expressive person. Everyone who knows my husband knows that he does use few words unless you know him extremely well. He lets his actions speak for him mostly and he is true to both. But the dream hubby version of him has mastered the art of self expression and does it regularly. What I love most, though, is that my dreams are a manifestation of my reality.

The man I married is evolving right before my eyes and it’s a wonder to witness.

Who says a man can’t change? You certainly can’t FORCE him to… but when he’s ready? Look out!

*