During these years there were so many pieces of myself placed on the shelf. So many of my wants and needs that I pushed aside in an effort to be a good wife and mother. I don’t know how people say things like “I have no regrets” and have that be an actual true statement. It sounds nice but the reality is there will always be things that we regret, things that we wish we had done differently. I really regret not making my wants, needs, and desires a priority. I consistently put myself last in the hopes that my sacrifice would be recognized or rewarded at some later date. The problem with that is if all we have is now later never arrives. This was perfect breeding ground for resentment.
Tag Archives: black families
Perfect, Imperfect Autumn Day
Have you ever had a day that was planned, but life found opportunities to be in the moment? Today was one of those days for me. My day was planned… Get the kids out for the bus without them killing each other, get dress, write today’s post, and go see the movie Harriet. First thingContinue reading “Perfect, Imperfect Autumn Day”
My Perspective, Musically Inspired By India.Arie
I will say this, I’m hoping that sharing my story will help me feel free and fly.
Trash Bags
One night before bed, Ms. Brown came into the girls room with a large black trash bag. We looked around to see who was leaving. You have to understand, being a foster kid at Ms. Brown’s isn’t perfect, but it’s almost as close you can find in Chicago. The hope is to stay here until it’s time to go home.
Pickled Pig Feet
Being a foster kid at Ms. Brown’s was almost like living at my grandparents’ home with a bunch of cousins, except ghetto. We had rules, she was strict, but we were allowed to be kids and have fun. For the rest of the summer, I almost forgot I was in foster care. I shared aContinue reading “Pickled Pig Feet”
Pocketed Change
After two weeks with Ms. Brown, I was informed that a social worker was picking me up in the morning, so I pack my bag. Packing my bags was basically a black trash bag stuffed with the clothes I had received over the last two weeks, my tooth brush and a brush that a neighborContinue reading “Pocketed Change”
Spare Change
I started by putting on the clothes from the previous day. And tried to brush my hair back into a braid with my fingers being my only grooming tool. Once fully dressed and somewhat presentable, I emerged from the room hoping to see a bathroom before anyone saw me. No such luck.
Moving… Again
We would challenge each other, we made a pact that we wouldn’t become statistics and had a strict no profanity rule.I was able to developer friendships that extended past school hours. I was with them when the news about Marvin Gaye died.
We sat on Tasha’s steps and cried. After the last tear had been spilled, we combined our loose change and went to the corner store for a bag of penny candy. Squirrel Nuts, Mary Janes, Jolly Ranchers, Jaw Breakers, and loose Now & Laters. Life was good.
Fire!
Nights in the apartment produced voices that only my mother heard. She would fight against the voices with prayer and reading the Bible. She would sit us in a circle and read to us from the Bible. If our young eyes got heavy, we would be awaken by yells or a hit upside the head. Some nights my mother had to compete with our neighbor who would play Queen’s Another One Bites the Dust. I never recall meeting this neighbor, but my young impression was he was crazy. I was becoming fully exposed and recognized crazy.
M&Ms Part II
Riding on the train from New York to Chicago was pretty uneventful. My mother sat quietly for the majority of the way, I honestly think I was getting on her nerves with all my questions. When she would talk, she would mention the M&Ms and how she couldn’t wait to share them with me. ChicagoContinue reading “M&Ms Part II”
Deliberately dope 