25 posts tagged “family”

One of the hardest lessons that I've learned - and still reminding myself of - is that I'm worth it.

It's been on my heart and mind to sit down and talk with my aunt. I love my aunt, even in the midst of her flaws. After all, who am I to judge. Yet, it saddens me that at her age (she's edging closer to 50) somewhere deep down she doesn't feel like she is worth it. Granted, it's not my job to "fix it," but Lord knows I wish I could. I wish I could open her eyes to a lot of things about her self worth. Ironically, some of it is partly what she has inspired on me or shown me.

My own lessons of self worth developed before I had my daughter. I attracted quasi-decent guys; meaning I always looked at their social status, figured in how they would "complete" me (sorta speak) while carrying the "independent woman" sign with the disclaimer "I just want someone to love and be loved in return." Just when I had over extended myself by doing everything for them but jump through a hoop of fire baring a neon sign that says "pick me! I'm the one.." a disconnect would occur. Most of the time I was glutton for punishment and kept trying to force a connection when it was obvious it wasn't even a dial tone on the line.

Since becoming a mom it just seems like the wool has been pulled off my eyes and I see a lot of BS that floats around when it comes to people and relationships. I'm not claiming expert status. Far from that, but just the basic level of obvious bull - who really has time for that? Not I. Still what would it take for my aunt and so many other grown women to see the obvious and not accept it?

I wanna talk now, but things are hot....tense. She won't listen. I need a time to catch her off gaurd. So she has nowhere to hide to and no choice but to listen. Yes, it's time for the aunt to listen to the niece for a change.

All this over a man, that isn't trustworthy and has caused more harm to the FAMILY than good.

I think I had a Tula Portokalos moment over the weekend.

Sometimes I find myself keeping myself in check. Saturday, in the aftermath of Friday evening, was one of those times. You see, using my connects, I had long ago put in a requests for a two baseball tickets for a Washington Nationals game. Granted I'm not all that thrilled about baseball, but I still love going to the games as it is a nice outing, or something to do. I thought it would be something cool for Papi and I to do for a date since he's never been to a game, especially now that the new stadium has been built. For the record he's not a baseball buff neither. We're both pretty much into football.

Well I got the call Thursday eve, that I have my tickets for the game happening the next day, plus an extra one. The extra was to go to my mother because our political friend wanted her to participate in a special ceremony during the game. I wasn't too disturbed by this, because though my mother has always been there for our political friend, she wasn't feeling the idea of tagging along with Papi and I on what was suppose to be a date. By the end of the night my mother said the only way she would go would be to catch a ride with our friend and then she can leave early or stay late with her.

Then there was a slight change in plans just before I went to bed Thursday night. My mother had mentioned something that my father would likely take her place and that another ticket would be added so my lil cuz could go as well (since my father was picking him up anyways.) Even still I wasn't all that disturbed, because I just knew that none of my folks would want to go through the motions of getting to a baseball for a five minute ceremony at the beginning and then leaving.

My dream told me different. I awoke Friday morning feeling terribly drained. For a moment I couldn't figure out why until my dream instantly played back in my mind. The dream was fresh so I remembered all of it. Basically within the dream I was in a bedroom with the man of my affection. It wasn't actually Papi, but the man's form took on the appearance of Mr. S. (sigh - why won't he go away). In the dream I was getting ready for bed with Mr. S and he ran off into another bedroom. In the room there were people from my family and some of our mutual friends. Before I knew it EVERYONE was sharing the bed. I remembered in the dream I was growing frustrated because I wanted "my man" to myself. Then I found myself concerned with "Does he mind sharing a bed with my family?" Then I had this feeling of I needed to escape and that my man is for me and not for my family.

When I woke up, I was a little perplexed that I would dream such. I did have a slight feeling it had something to do with the baseball tickets situation, but I instantly brushed it off. I concentrated more on the sense that a crowded bed (pertaining to my relationship with Papi) must mean that one of us or both of us are carrying our past around with us whenever we're together.

After shaking off the dream, the day went on smoothly and as productive as possible until the moments leading up for me to get ready. At the last minute the word came through that EVERYONE was going to the game; my mom, dad, my Snickerdoodle and my lil cuz. My attitude fluctuated between extremes. I went from being pissed that my whole family was coming to feeling panic for some reason. The thing is, within our two year (and some change) relationship Papi has met my immediate family with a few extended relatives. He gets along fine with my father. The Snickerdoodle adores him like a big play toy.  My mother is still warming up to him, but so far no problems and so on. We're both family people, but at the same time we both crave our space away from them for just us. Because, really.. we're both up under our families so it's a constant. The other thing is, since we only just STARTED to acknowledge to everyone around us that we are in a relationship. Granted nothing hasn't changed much for us, but in a way it feels as if it has since family and friends (from both sides) want to know "Who is he/she?" "How long?" "Do he/she have kids?" What do he/she do?" and etc. etc.

The more I thought about what the special ceremony was for, the more I thought about how some of the political connects that do have close ties to our family would be there, on top of my family going. My body temperature rose and my breath quickened. The phone kept ringing back to back with my mother changing transportation plans. I ended up letting out a loud scream by the end of one conversation. It was the worse. I couldn't go through with it. I picked up the phone and called Papi on both house and cell phones. No answered. I figured he was in the midst of getting dressed. After my family came by to pick up the Snickerdodle, Papi called.

After I gave him the rundown of what was going on, he calmly asked "What do you want to do?"

I suggested we go out to eat instead. So, we drove out of DC and ended up at a nice resturant not far from Baltimore. I was calmer and truly enjoying myself in his company. When I came home I got the report that the family did stay for the whole game. The Snickerdoodle had a marvelous time as she was amazed at all the activities going. I'm glad she was able to go, now I know she can handle baseball games and I can take her with me next time I go. I went to bed in a blissful daze only to wake up Saturday morning reflecting on Friday eve a bit.

My Big Fat Greek Wedding

I thought about the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding, when Tula (the main character) pretty much freaks out or is embarrassed by a lot of her family's over exaggerated Greek activities. The scene that ran through my mind is when Ian asks Tula about her family. She goes into this spiel about how her Greek relatives act and how there are so many of them. Granted, Papi and I have talked about each other's families and he knows that mine is huge, I feel a pull of some sort. Even though I may gripe about my family and secretly wish I could move to another country sometimes just to get away, to be honest I'm close to my family. So I know to even try to totally dismiss them is hard.. more than likely not even an option. 

I'm sure having the family with me on a "date" wouldn't have been so bad, especially at a baseball game. Yet, it bothered me that I freaked out like I did. Of course it would have meant another opportunity for Papi to bond with my family, but am I really ready for that? Am I really ready for a relationship now that we've called...labeled it what it is?

I guess I must first be honest with myself and go back to a question that Papi asked me nearly a month ago. What am I expecting from this relationship?

Maybe there was a little bit more to the dream than just crowded seating at a baseball game.

Or....

Maybe I am just being (emotionally) clumsy.

The Girl Can't Help It - Little Richard (1956)

Sometimes I get a little uncomfortable when people assume because I'm a writer I'm REALLY REALLY good to the point where words come easy. True, words do come easy, but NOT ALL THE TIME. I suppose it's contradiction, but it's just me.. my mind.. my emotions... trying to process what I see, experience and so forth.

For three weeks my world has been reeling. Part of me has been dying to get to my nearest computer and log onto my journal(s) to type away and document it all. The other part of me has been tangled up with words that I pretty much silenced myself to see the situation play itself out.. to see if there is a new perspective or a lesson to learn from it all. I must say what has transpired has brought me to laughter and tears.

Two weekends ago I never felt so found in all my life as I traveled with my parents, my daughter, my aunts, my cousins and more cousins to Cincinnati for our family reunion. A cloud hovered near my immediate family right before the trip, but it didn't deter our planned mission. It tried to. Mr D, my grandmother's husband, passed away in his sleep two nights before the trip. Ironically I had been at there house for much of the evening and hadn't even seen Mr. D moving about the house like he normally did when I was there. Even during that day, my grandmother and aunt were prepping for the trip to Cincinnati. With Mr. D's and my grandmother's clothes packed, they were ready to go. Of course on the night of his passing my grandmother was upset. We worried this would be a set back for her depression and (pre) dementia. She even refused to go on the trip. Yet, her reluctance kicked in after talking to a couple of her first cousins that encouraged her to go.

In the end, she was glad she went.

We partied from the time we loaded the bus at five o'clock that Friday morning (seriously we were dancing in the aisle of the bus by 7 am), to the time we met up with our family in Cincinnati, to the time we left Ohio and came back to DC.  I met family I knew little to nothing about. I learned a little more about our family history and I just felt warm to the openness and hospitality shown to us from that side of our family. I cried at the picnic when folks were giving little speeches about who they were and shared testimonies about their life, I laughed at silly antics my cousins and I did throughout the weekend and I bubbled over with warmth and pride as I watched my daughter get into playing around with her younger and older cousins.

By the end of the trip I thought it was ridiculous of me to feel alone as I had been feeling lately. The lonliness that I was no longer a part of any core or inner circle of a "friendship" group because all the friendships (with the exception of a couple) I have pretty much known.. I had outgrown. My family is my core, my inner circle. I thought back to how generations of cousins have been each others best friends because the family is that big and back then everyone hung out with each other every week. By the time I came on the scene, there were such gatherings, but as the elders or those 11 siblings of our family's patriach and matriach grew older... different sects of the family just drifted a part.

Now my family is working on mending this. Actually just yesterday my parents and I had an impromptu dinner where we invited cousins and extended family over. Part of it was a carry over of the funeral we just had for Mr. D. Natrually we had a repast (which, I found since Michael Jackson's funeral is a foreign concept to A LOT of folks), but folks still wanted to be of comfort to my grandmother. So they came to her house after the repast and ate some more. Seriously it was really a lot of food available. What is it about funerals and people wanting to cook or bring over food? Old school tradition for sure.

Even in the midst of Friday's funeral, I had to make an unexpected trip to BWI airport to pick up my sister. She came into town from Charlotte to look after our oldest brother who is battling Lupus. Nevertheless, I brought my sister back to my grandmother's house so she could eat and take home some food to our brother. We had our sister chit chat and even when I dropped her off at my brother's I stayed awhile to catch up with him.

As my family has been helping me "find" or rediscover myself, I did something I haven't done since I dated Brandon back in the late 90's. Although Papi has already met my parents, he stopped by yesterday and met the family that had gathered here at the house. During the course of last week, after two years and a few months, Papi and I have finally admitted to ourselves and others that we are indeed a couple..... we are in a relationship. Since we finally put a label on it, we both don't think anything will change much. We'll still move at our own pace. There are no talks of marriage from both ends, but from our conversations it's pretty safe to say that we're open to it, just can't see it now and if to each other.

I feel like I'm leaving out a lot of details and my extra deep thoughts. Maybe when I'm feeling really deep thought-ful-ish I'll revisit this.

In short I just wanted to express how close I've been feeling to my family, cousins and all, and how they helped me rediscover me. It's a good feeling to know that the blood that flows through you is of good stock....meaning the lineage from it is a strong legacy worth more than gold.

So much as taken place since I last wrote within these virtual pages. So much so, that I think it would be unfair to my brain to even formulate a "real" blog entry for the fear of leaving a detail or two out because my mind is racing faster than my fingertips can dance across my laptop keyboard.

Instead it's bullets.

• Talks of my grandmother going into a nursing home/rehab facility became a reality nearly two weeks ago. The stay was only suppose to be temporary; until she was able to build her strength back up by eating or her insurance paying in full up to 20 days - which ever of these came first. However, my grandmother didn't allow any of them to happen. A slightly scary situation arose this past Wednesday, only a little over a week since she had been at the facility. During my visit with her that afternoon, she complained about being in pain and she barely talked above a whisper. After conferring with her nurse and even talking to my mother over the phone I learned that during my mother's visit earlier in the day she met with my grandmother's doctor. They discussed my grandmother's alledged pain, since it seemed she was having pain on different days and in different places. The doc diagnoised my grandmother with having pre-dementia.

• Oddly enough when I first heard the word I ignored it. Then it angered me as I heard the nurse and the EMT folks go back and forth using the word "Dementia" as if it were full blown as they hovered over my grandmother assessing her and trying to decide if she really needed to go the hospital. Eventually she was taken to a nearby hosptial, where I stayed until my mother got there. Later we learned she had a bladder infection, so it could very well be that my grandmother was not imagining her pain. Later that evening I did look up pre-dementia and even looked up Alzheimers. I didn't get very far because a lot of what I found was a bunch of medical jargon. I did understand the main point. With pre-dementia there is a shortage in the brain where short term and long term memory goes in an out. It is known to be a precurser for full on Alzheimers and it's not curable, but the meical realm is looking into different treatments; from brain exercises to drugs.

• I thought back to Mother's Day and how we all were at my grandmother's side. I was to her immediate left and she down at my middle finger on my left hand. It is there that I wear a 14 karat gold ring (the only gold I wear) carrying my birthstone; amethyst, and two small diamonds on the side of the stone. She looked at the ring and reminded me that we got that ring out of JC Penny's a long time ago. It kind of stumped me because she was mumblin a bit, but mentioning how she bought the ring for me one day after school. Honestly I don't remember much about the day. I don't even remember exactly how old I was. What's fresh in my mind is my blue uniform from elementary/jr. high school. I'm guessing I was in the sixth grade cause I almost remember what I looked like the day she bought the ring. I remember what that particular jewelry department at that JC Penny's looked like at the time. No sooner had she talked about the ring, my grandmother was trying to recall something else before she eventually said "my memory isn't worth two scents these days."

• Everyone has been dealing with my grandmother's health in their own way. My aunt is amazingly helping out more, especially in regards to looking after my grandmother's husband, who really hasn't fully recovered from his stroke nearly three years ago. My mother of course is in superwoman mode. So much so that when it's too much I can tell, it's all over her face and it showed today as she caught an attitude with me for not cooking dinner today. I've been helping, I've cooked, I've been trying to do my part and little extra, but the day I stopped (such as today) to gather my own thoughts of course it is seen as selfish.  Now I feel like shit cause of the attitudes flying in the air.

• I'm confused about everything right now. I'm not sure how I'm feeling. As I looked up pre-dementia I couldn't help but wonder if my grandmother drove her self to this state. Ironically, everything checks out excellent with her healthwise, but her mind..... I thought about those religous cliches and kind of chuckled at the cliche images of sister prayer circles armed with Bibles and standing over my grandmother being prayer warriors and casting out demons and such through prayer - think the near ending of Beloved when those church sistas came and prayed over Setha's house. My chuckles faded as I thought about it some more. Our old pastor did come and say a word and had prayer with my grandmother, mother and myself during her initial stay at the hospital. Still was it enough? Is it enough to think of a silent prayer in the middle of the day or in mid thought as I write? Granted in the stats I read, millions of Americans are living with pre-dementia, but why do I feel like my grandmother doesn't have to? Maybe something is going on. Perhaps something bigger than me and it's gonna take something stronger than what I can give (or maybe subconsciously willing to give) to eliminate it.

• I noticed that I haven't beem eating much myself. I lost a pound or two. I'm not stressed. My appetite just isn't here. A few bites and my stomach is tied in knots.  My grandmother's health is taking a toll on me. My appetite only goes M.I.A when something is wrong.

It's going on 4 a.m. I'll finishing my thoughts later.

Today my grandmother sat still long enough to actually go through a catheterization . As always it's a battle to get my grandmother to see a doctor. Last week was real trying. She's been dodging the cardiologist for....EVER!  Not that there is something seriously wrong, it was just recommended that she see one just to keep tabs on her heart at her age, and especially since her high blood pressure problems have "reappeared."  Nevertheless, she saw the cardiologist last week, who ran a test that showed a few concerns...mainly a possible blockage in her heart.

My mother took my grandmother to the hospital center today for the catheterization procedure. My mother had one done two years ago. It's an all day process, where test are conducted on the heart and if there is a blockage, a balloon is used to open up the artery. Blockage wasn't found in my mother's heart and today.. none was found in my grandmother. Somewhat like my mom, my grandmother's heart is a bit weak, so there isn't enough blood pumping through and the rate is a bit slower. My mom's heart is sort of weak as the muscle on one side has called blood to pump slowly through, but through medication she's able to stablize her heart rate. When she's feeling tired she rest or if something requires extra strength... she'll summons someone to help.

Though I'm not sure all that has caused my grandmother's heart to weaken, I find it odd that just the other day there was a news report on a study linking depression and heart disease. It's interesting to watch my grandmother before my eyes and notice how a vibrant woman because so down and tired all of the time.

After a catheterization it's required that the patient lay still for a certain amount of hours. Sometimes they may have to stay over night. My mother had to, but my grandmother didn't. My mother brought her pass the house for a while so she could see the progression of the renovations. She's been wanting to come over since the kitchen has been in place, the walls painted, carpet layed and etc. I watched my grandmother walk around the house today. It all seemed to be a bit much for her. More than likely, she will have to take heart medication to stablize her heart rate, but the pain will be in making sure she takes them. She hates doctors and she hates taking medication.

In the back of my head I hear a voice telling me to get checked out or at least take my ass back to the gym. My weight has been up and down since having the Snickerdoodle two years ago. Even though that up and down is in inches.. those inches mean a lot, especially when you are thick chic such as myself.

Though I may look healthy, for the most part I don't feel healthy. I wasn't exercising much after I had the Snickerdoodle. So when I returned to school and started walking up and down those steep hills on campus, I would be out of breath by the start of my next class. I wouldn't calm down until nearly the end of the 50 minute class.  Gradually, as the semester has rolled on and I continue to walk those hills, my breathing has leveled. It doesn't take me as long to calm down, but still I do find myself out of breath.

I'm sure all I need to do is get back in the gym and leave chocolate alone. I've pretty much over did it with chocolate the last two months. Actually I'll blame it all on mother nature and the fact that Entemen's chocolate icing donuts and the chocolate cake with chocolate icing from the Amish market are sooooooo kryptonite. Oh and Papi's chocolate chip cookies..... *sigh*

Still, I need to make may way to the cardiologist stat.. just to be sure.

Again, death has seem to come in threes.

Once in my family.

Once in my extended family.

Once in my extended extended family.

I lost a cousin to her battled with emphysema on Sunday. The story alone behind this is kind of bittersweet. Originally I wanted to set aside a special blog entry concerning just what took place in a matter of weeks before her death. Yet, I was just hit with a ton of bricks about an old coworker of mine.

Even the news about my extended "relative", who passed after a long battle with cancer, wasn't as much as a shock as the third death.

The crazy thing is, I think my intuition be telling me things, but I ignore it. A few days ago, maybe a week ago, a flash thought came to me. It wasn't even a dream. Just a thought. A thought about some folks I use to work with when I was in the federal government, but the people have passed away. I didn't think much of it. Thought it was tied into my cousin's situation.

Then today's news.....

My former coworker lost her husband last night in an accident. I can't imagine the pain or the range of emotions she is going through right now. The ironic thing is, I'm sitting here talking with Ms. C. She's telling me that her husband had also been in an accident this weekend, but he is okay. Yet she was upset about that, and after learning about our co-worker's loss she took a step back and though hurting for our friend, she began to give thanks for husband surviving his accident.

I can see my former coworker's husband just as clear. Her and her family had started attending my church a year or so ago.  Her, her husband and two sons. I'm not sure if they ever joined, but faithfully I would see them, whenever I show up and we would briefly greet each other. I never knew much about her family life, only to say that (I believe) her and her husband had been together since they were in high school. My heart goes out to her, but all this does is remind me of a few things.

Though (personally) I never been a big fan of being married (never thought I was the marrying kind), I've grown to be more open to the idea or possibility of it (but still not pushing it). While I have seen beautiful examples of love though family members who have been married for 50 plus years, when death comes I can see how the heart is torn in two, especially when you have been together for that long.

I know how I love. I love deeply till there is nothing left and I'm even searching in the reserves. If I get married and it happens that my spouse goes before me... I can't deal with it. I know I can't. Forget about "well.. if you and your husband are right with the Lord and walk with HIM daily there is no need to fear etc. etc. etc."

That maybe true, but I know me. I know when my selfishness kicks in. I love the beautifulness of death but I hate the unfairness of it. If I manage to get married and I know it's for all the right reasons with God being number one.. I know how deep my heart would be in it. I would probably be mad at God. This is the same for if my daughter is taken away from me. I would be angry.

Maybe it is a bit unfair of me to assume all of this now, but my gut and my heart tells me this is so. So right now this is the only thing making sense to me.

*sigh*

Needless to say...

If it is meant for me to be married.. I am not going to let this be a factor for not getting married to "that guy." It will be a fear, no doubt, but all in all, I wouldn't want my husband to die alone.

I should be sleep at this hour, but obviously I'm not. I can't. I probably will be a bit grouchy tomorrow as I have to get up early. Another funeral for another cousin. Wow, come to think of it this is how last January started - a funeral for a cousin. A majority of my being doesn't want to go. I'm realizing that as I get older I don't like funerals too much. But I know I must. There is a small portion of me curious and excited enough to see a few of my cousins (that are or around my age) I haven't see since we were kids... literally, especially Kelly. Kelly is my age. We basically grew up together. Somewhere along the line we weren't growing together anymore due to her many hospitalizations. She suffered with tumors for much of her childhood. I believe it was leukemia. I would always get updates on her, especially during our teenage years. For a time she moved to California to live with her aunts from her mother side of the family. She eventually came back to the DC area, living a well life even though a small reminder of her childhood illness lingers, her lips. I would love to see her. I would love for her to see the Snickerdoodle. I actually miss my cousin. 

Speaking of the Snickerdoodle, I love her dearly but today I felt a bit tested. My patience. Today, or yesterday rather, was a long day. Initially I wanted to join my parents as they went to the convention center to support YA. Newly elected and re-elected council members were sworn in today, as well as other elected officials in various DC government and neighborhood positions. Instead I had to be on "grandma duty." She had a much needed eye doctor appointment and of course I made sure she kept it. What I didn't expect was sitting in the doctors office for four to five hours.  With the Snickerdoodle in tow, naturally she became restless and even wanted to run around and play in the office. I had to keep her in check, which wasn't an easy task.

She grew weary of the supply of animal cookies, milk and juice I had in my bag. The biggest meal she had was breakfast before we left home and by the time 4:30 came around I knew she was ready for some REAL FOOD. She whined, TRIED to through a fit and was just doing all the fidgety movements toddlers do when they are restless. I kept it together until we finally made it back home close to six o'clock. I figured she was hungry so I fixed her a bowl of the black eyed peas we had for New Years dinner (a traditional good luck dish for New Years). At first she was refusing to eat, even tried to turn the bowl over on the table. Myself had been starving. I hadn't eaten the entire day. I was headachy, frustrated, tired....spent. I almost burst into tears on the spot.

I fixed me a bowl of rice and black eyed peas. Left the Snickerdoodle in her high chair. Found me a quiet corner and ate.  I got back up, poured what she didn't eat into my bowl and began to eat some her share. I went in for another spoonful and placed it towards her mouth. FINALLY she ate!

I was calm....until.....

Later this evening I began to think about school. Classes literally start this week coming up! Am I really ready this time? Suddenly I felt panicked... a bit freaked out. I'm not really surprised by this actually. It's almost as if I'm waiting for the bottom to drop... again. I'm freaked that I may be consumed with the feeling of being overwhelmed again. I'm freaked that the federal loan may not cover everything and I'm not sure how much I'm expected to "contribute" to my tuition. I'm freaked because in the midst of this renovation mess I don't know which box has all my important documents, especially the folder I kept for school that has a listing of all the classes I've taken thus far and how many credits I really have left. I know.. I'm seeing the advisor on Monday, but still... I haven't registered my classes yet!!!

I actually had an interesting dream last night. My mom and I were talking about money. She was telling me that I should take X amount of money to pay off some of my "little" bills, but I was a bit upset because I had no money. I was telling her there wasn't any money in my account to pay for anything. She kept pushing me to pay bills and I was telling her I had no money. After about the fourth time of telling her I had no money, she looked at me kind of strange and calmly said "oh."

Then I woke up.

I'm not sure what that was about. Immediately I thought it had something to do with my conversation with cousin T yesterday in reference to the mortgage payments of the condo(s). Part of her reasoning for believing I should have followed through with things was because a number of the units still aren't ready and (of course) mortgage payments don't start until you actually move in. Then I left that thought and began to think about school and began to worry how many books would I have to purchase this semester.

Maybe a financial blessing is coming my way, but I'm too blind right now to see it.. feel it... believe it. I'm trying to regain my optimistic self. I miss that person. Yet my reality seems to only want to show me what's real in the here and now.

Right now.. my reality is... it's after 1 am. I need sleep.

Ever feel like at the time you gave up something it felt like it was for the best. Yet there is still a small ounce of remorse left after all is said and done?

Ironic.

Cousin "T" is in transition from returning to DC from her life in New York. She's right on schedule to graduate from F.I.T. in May but has been making moves in coming back home to live. A few weeks ago I learned that she purchased a condo. My heart was torn about the news. While I was happy for her, the more I learned about where she was living I began to realize it was the same opportunity I had given up a year ago.

City Vista are newly developed condos built along the edge of Chinatown. Equiped with a grocery store, a cleaners, a bank, a gym, and few other local hot spots and restaurants and rooftop terrance/pool area, it's a city person's dream, especially since it's in the mix of downtown living. As the complex was being built I entered a lottery. The units available through the lottery were set aside as affordable housing and of course based on an income scale. I entered into the lottery right around the time but just before I found out I was pregnant. A year later, a few months after I had The Snickerdoodle, I received a letter in the mail. I had been picked from the lottery to own one of the condos.

With no steady job and being a new mom, at the time I figured there was no way I could afford to pay on a mortage plus condo fees and of course a parking space in the garage. So I turned it down. I let it go. It hurt (a bit) to let it go, because it was part of my dream or my goal..my emancipation from this house. Still I would have had to figure in new furniture for two and other expenses. I just wasn't ready.

When I heard the news about "T" I wanted to call her immediately and contgradulate her, but my heart hurt. I felt bad that I couldn't be fully happy with "T's" new home because of that ping of jealously. Sure I tried to play it off and do the whole Erykah Badu thing...yanno claim that my eyes were green because I eat a lot of vegetables. Still I didn't want to call her and fake the happiness. I wanted it to be real. So I waited.

As 2008 faded away I let all of that emotional gunk I had been dealing with since November roll away with it, including that stupid green eye thing. So today when I got the invite to ride along with my cousin to T's new place I wasted no time in getting ready and hopped into the ride. 

Her two bedroom is lovely and quaint. Though not fully furnished, she pretty much has her bedroom in place and the walls throughout are painted (this pretty brown shade. Chestnut? and this lovely green in one area). My (sincere) happiness for her oozed as I washed her gush with excitement of embarking on something new and moving around her kitchen being a natural hostess to the rest of the family that had gathered tonight. She even took us on a tour of the 12th floor where the rooftop terrace is located.

We even had the opportunity to talk about my missed opportunity with Cita Vista. Of course she believes that I should have went ahead and followed through with the lottery winning and for what she was saying I could have been missing out on a blessing. Yet when I thought about it I figured it probably would have caused another big financial mess for me when I clearly wasn't ready. Besides, I think what mainly scared me off from the opportunity was the fragile housing market and how people were getting taken with the "creative financing" gimmick that was going around. I always figured that if I wanted to own a home I wanted it the old fashion way of having a FIXED mortage.

Also, when I think more if it, I think I wasn't jealous so much of T's residence, being a place where I once wanted to live. I think it was more of an add of to things that I had noticed. That being, how people in my life are/were progressing and that latter part of 2008 caught me in a runt, stuck, angry and mad. I actually mentioned this to Ms. C when I had my little meltdown. I felt bad because I wanted to be happy for people in my life and their progress but I couldn't be because I was just in an iky place.

So tonight as I celebrated the new year with family, I felt good. Good because T is back home, even though she still has to go back and forth to New York to take her left over classes until graduation. Good because I feel that iky-ness is passing over. Good because I can still have my piece of the urban pie, I just have to take the long route in getting there. Needless to say, when I am ready I'm aiming for a house. Capitol Hill has been my goal for a long while. It's residential, yet urban with good schools nearby, on the edge of downtown, but has it's own hot spots and I love the energy in and around Eastern Market.

Still.... we shall see.

Where I currently reside isn't bad. It's DC but sometimes it feels like the forgotten portion. It's always been an ambition of mine to move closer to the "nerve" of the city. It kind of sucks when you do live East of the Anacostia River and need a cab to get home. Plenty of times cab drivers had refused to take me home after a late night of partying in Adams Morgan, Georgetown or visiting friends that lived uptown. You know it's bad anytime you try to convince the cab driver that you live in a good part of SE. The only way I would make it home if I ended up with an old black man that grew in DC or a young black guy that probaby was packing and wasn't afraid to come into SE. If I couldn't neither one, I had to catch the train and still walk six to ten block home.

Thank God that I have a car now.   

This day will always be etched into my mind. For it was the day that I felt a genuine connection and my grandmother heeded her warning.

Can't stop gushing like a school girl. Papi left not long ago with his gift in hand. Like last year, again I'll be away when his birthday comes around next week. Since he's always so kind to bake me chocolate chip cookies, I decided to leave him with something sweet to "remember" me until I return. Originally I tried a recipe for no-bake oatmeal chocolate cookies. In the end, they really turn out to be something like fudge (bars) and not really cookies since you don't bake them. They were okay, but very experimental. Nothing I would give to anyone unless I keep working and tweaking it.

So I stuck to one of the things I know best in baking. Chocolate poundcake. Still without a kitchen as the renovations press on, two months ago my mother bought a small/medium toaster oven that can be used as a conventional oven for small baking jobs. After searching a few boxes for my 6 inch bundt mold packed away, finding it and washing it out, I remembered and followed a basic recipe for baking the chocolate cake from scratch. I pretty much had everything I needed here at the house, except baking soda. However, a few quick references on some cooking sites, I found I didn't really need it as long as I had self rising flour.

I made two. One for my mother. A diabetic kind, mainly by substituting sugar with Splendor.

The other for Papi. With real Domino sugar.

When I was done, I cut up the cake into slices and I packaged it up all nice and "pretty" in this large mock Chinese take-out carton that was decorated for Christmas (from Target); wrapping each slice in Chrismas-sey tissue paper, and attached his birthday card to the box.

He tried a slice in front of me. He loved it. Then again, he's never complained about my cooking.

Still I was hit with this gushy feeling, even more so as he noticed my hair (the first thing he noticed and expressed that he liked very much)

My afro. Mostly pulled back from my face.

True Mahogany(-ie) form.

As always he left me with a full cd/dvd of music to travel with. He always looks out for me when it comes to this. I love this about it.

Last time it was Ledisi, Erykah Badu, Lenny Kravitz... all my favs.

This time more favs. Raphael Sadaaq, John Legend, Santogold, Thievery Corporation, Q-Tip, Common & more.

When I get back I know to expect some Geno Young. 

I haven't left town yet. Already I miss him and the smell of Delicious filling the air between and around us.

Despite the girly-ness that contains me now, my earlier conversation with my grandmother is stuck in the back of my mind. I won't want to think about it, but it's alive. It's visible. 

The crying. The pleading.

Her depression is stubborn and being a straight up bitch. I wish I could become that superhero to just break it all away. Today was not a good day for her. Yesterday as my mother and I took her Christmas shopping, I should have taken the hint. She was fine. Stable. Still the evidence was lurking. I smelled it. Still I ignored it. I shouldn't have.

As she sobbed and talked she repeated her warning

Her warning: "Please take care of your mother. Look after her. I worry about her so. Look after her."

I sense that my grandmother doesn't have long. I'm both scared and relieved by this thought. Scared that she may be doing this on her on will. Her own time. Her own destiny. Not sure I'm ready to face a reality without a grandmother who still is/can be as vibrant as the sun. 

Relieved that she may get the peace that she so desires right now. She's tired. Missing her best friends which were her mother (Granny) and a majority of her first cousins. No other friends around. She's lonely.

I don't want to sit here and estimate and count the days she has left. Yet I don't want her to suffer neither.

This is out of my control and it hurts. If I had my way, obviously it wouldn't be this way.

All I can do.. pray & meditate on this.

This day will always be etched in my mind. It was the day that I recognized a genuine connection and that I'm not a superhero.

I was pulling into my usual parking space in front the house yesterday after returning home from a late Saturday afternoon outing. Immediately I did notice movement across the street, but it was nothing unusual. I live on a main street so a steady flow of traffic via cars or pedestrian is nothing out of the sort. So when I noticed movement from a single female figure walking along the opposite side of the street, it was nothing more to me than added background "noise."

I went about my business of unloading my car by unloading the Snickerdoodle first. I grabbed her diaper bag/my over sized purse, the Snickerdoodle and marched her into the house. I placed her in the care of my father while I went to retrieve other items from my car. It was during my second trip to the car that the walking female REALLY got my attention.

"Do you live here?"

"That depends."

Female steps off the curb and walks in my direction, with a cell phone up to her ear. Instinctively, I want to hear the woman out. I do believe in being a good Samaritan, especially when I never know when I need the help of strangers. Yet, in this day in age its scary. You don't know who to trust, because not all people in need are really in need. Still I wanted to hear the woman out while keeping my distance. However, with each step back I was taking she was coming closer.

"I wanted to know if you could take me to the gas station to get some gas. My car ran out of gas."

Her cell phone was still stuck in her ear as she pointed in the direction of the bottom of the block. Only thing I saw further down my street was a Metro bus pulling off from its stop and making its usual left turn at the foot of my block. I saw a few cars but they were moving towards their destination. Nothing resembling a car, a truck or even a scooter at a standstill was in sight. The female further explained that she lives further up my street but not saying exactly where. My street runs a long way in this part of the city and I live on one extreme end. I asked her where was her car and she pointed down the street once more, but this time adding that the car was around the corner on the cross street that is at the end of my block.

I began to feel funny. 

I told her to wait where she was standing as I began to walk towards the house. She followed me for a few more feet before stopping at the gate in front of the house. Then, as I walked up the stairs she mentioned that her sister was suppose to be on her way to wait by the car.

I really felt funny.

First of all, if her sister was on the way AND she had a cell phone stuck to her ear half talking/half yelling at someone why couldn't the sister or the person she was speaking with help her? Another thing; where was her gas can? I approached my father and asked him if her could assist the lady outside or at least see what she wanted. My father immediately thought a scam was on the horizon. He walked out of the house and the female said nothing to him. My mother went to the door and boldly asked if there was anything that she could do for her. Again, the female didn't have much to say and kept on walking up the street. Moments later, my father spotted the female in a car riding down the street. I guess a ride came through for her to help with her need.

It's sad that in this day in age you can't be as free to help someone in need, because there are lot of predators on the loose. Now there is cause to be smarter in who you choose to help and relying more on your gut instincts. Lately it seems that everyone on my block and perhaps throughout this city is on their guard. It's summer, schools are out and idle hands and thoughts are getting the best of people. Even worse, apparently the 80s ARE back as PCP users are on the rise again. A few known incidents around here have occurred that involved folks on that superficial high, which can put any innocent person on edge.

My folks are going to be out of town for about a week and course my mother is nervous about me and my daughter being home alone, especially in light of a few (isolated) incidents that have occurred with a couple of neighbors. I'm scared to know how she will react when I finally do buy a home on my own. I worry about our safety, but I don't worry. I do have common sense with a bit of street sense. Also, I know this house is watched over by God and the good neighbors we are surrounded by. Thankfully, I live on a block that is like an old school village. We all know one another and therefore we all look out for each other. Even as new folks move in we eventually establish an understanding with them of what this block is all about.  We are a block full of working families, retired baby boomers, mobile and disabled elderly people, children, a couple of teenagers and young adults. We don't tolerant foolishness.

After the encounter with the female, I did wonder if she was really in need. I silently prayed that if she was in need, that she received the appropriate help. Then I resided with the thought that it just wasn't my assignment to help her. After an experience back in late January with my Aquarius Brother, I can say I can pretty much take the hint when I am being called to duty to be the good Samaritan. I can't say it enough... what an awesome experience it is to be used in that manner.

From my experience with the radical homeless lady a couple of years ago to the young guy roaming the local Giant grocery store looking for change to get a hot plate from the hot bar a month ago, I can pretty much tell when a person is in need. Still there are some tricky, clever ones out there. Those are the ones that scare me. Those are the ones that have turned me into a picky Samaritan.