She came into this country from Haiti. An underprivileged young black woman with her eyes set on the typical American dream despite the French on her tongue and a husband who had opposing plans. An introduction to a story shared by millions of my people. But unlike millions she dared to seek better conditions for herself. She had a daughter (my sister...whoop whoop!), little income and no where to go when she met my father who would change all of that. This new relationship was in it's infancy stage and she had no more room for mistakes so with a heavy heart she sent her only child off to Haiti to be cared for by her parents while she got her life together. This time she would be sure that the leading man in her life had her best interest at heart. And thank heavens he did (go, Daddy!). He was a tenacious man who defied his sexist culture and encouraged my mother to become an independent woman. She loved that about him so much that she overcame her fears about a second marriage and bore him a child (meeeeee) shortly after their nuptials. Life was grand. Grand enough for her to make the arrangements to bring not only her first child but also my father's child from Haiti. Finally we stood on a united front as a family. But the sun only shines for so long in our world. My father fell ill and all she could do was care for him as best she knew how as we watched him slip away from us. I say "we" loosely as I am the only child who's mind carries no such existence of these moments. As a mother she could only mourn so much. Three young children stood before her in need of care and monetary support she knew not where to find. My step-sister was the oldest at about 16 years of age and her rebellious ways took it's toll on our unit. She was a very troubled soul who let anger about the unfortunate route her life took fester into hatred for our dad. And now that he wasn't there and her birth mother was miles away; she turned that resentment against my mother (yes, my Mother wasn't going through enough apparently). It wasn't long before she moved out to move in with my paternal family (she wasn't old enough to be on her own). We lost touch forever. We tried to rekindle our relationship as adults however her hatred for my parents made it extremely difficult for us to even carry on a conversation let alone a bond between sisters. Well, anyway my mom sent my sister & I to live with my Aunt so that she could again try to establish a better life for her children. And she did. To this day, I have no idea how my mother kept a roof over our heads. We came back home and never wanted for food in our stomach (well most days) or clothing on our back. She took in other people's children when we were barely making it ourselves. She took in other people period. The same Aunt that took us in; she turned around and took her family in when they needed the help. Living in a home with so many women made everyday an adventure. To this day I feel a sense of nostalgia whenever I visit a multi-generational home. I think back in amazement when I think of how much my mother was there for me given her circumstances. And her faith in God was nothing short of amazing. Bitterness would eat at me whenever our unfortunate circumstances would overwhelm me. However, my mother would remind me of all of the things I did have. Family prayer at night, church every Sunday and random prayer vigils when the going got real rough. Church made me sick....lol. When I refused to go to college, she marched my behind up to the financial aid office and stayed there until I made arrangements to receive instruction that fall. She was fierce in her beliefs and dreams for her children.
And here we are. My sister and I hold college degrees and respectable employment. We are mothers in our own right to our own fantastic children. We both own a car (or 2) and hold her high on a pedestal. Classy women with men in our lives that adore us (they adore her too....lol). And when I thought she might be getting tired of all this mothering she turns around and becomes an exceptional grandmother too. Yes, she did that. Now my well of gratitude is filling up as the table of life turns. When one becomes even more of an adult and can truly value the sacrifices that their parents have made in their honor. Wow. My mom is awesome. I didn't have a father. I was the recipient of a New York City public school system that fails the youth daily. My neighborhood left much to be desired. I had a million reasons to be less than I am now. My mother was such a powerful is driving force at times I call her randomly just to ask her how she did it. To which she laughs of course.
Despite our disagreements my need for her are as intense as my first moments in the womb. She is still a lifeline.
And I'm in my late 20s. I love that woman. She'll always be my baby.
My father's day weekend was hectic. My troop traveled to my hometown in New York City to join our family in celebration of the Baptismal of my twin daughters and niece. We partied as only Caribbeans can (lots of love, food, wine, and people) Saturday night. Sunday morning we shook off the fatigue as the sight of the Deacon blessing 3 beautiful girls into the Catholic faith sobered us. There was even a miracle. My son had only brief moments of misbehaving. Boy, was I shocked. I was anticipating a series of meltdowns at the least. This was the first time he has ever been this well behaved during a mass ceremony. It took awhile however I have come to the conclusion that it could only be one thing other than forces from up above. The men in attendance were dressed sharply and expressed impeccable manners throughout the ceremony (other than a few who nodded off here and there....yeah your secret is safe with me). *smile* No, really though my son adores the men in my family. He was inspired to behave like them because he recognizes the greatness in each one of them and aspires to be like them. After the ceremony we started up the grill back at the house. My son was excited to be among this throng of god-fathers, uncles, grandfathers, etc. I know these men and love each one in my own way. They also all possess qualities that one would find undesirable. And for the most part I know of at least one woman that has been a recipient of some of their ungodly behavior. I say all this to state the point that they are flawed yet they are still men. I'm a proud feminist. Being the offspring of a single mother, I can say that woman have an enormous well of strength in them. Some of us can do it all. However and this a big however doing it all is not ideal. Children need their fathers. Boys, especially need an army of men to exemplify and teach how to truly be men. At one point I deemed certain masculine characteristics innate however life experiences have led me to believe that manhood has to be taught. And there are things that only a man can teach. To the women who have been hurt and hold bitterness in their heart, I implore you to find forgiveness for the sake of your children. He may not have held up to your expectations. Lied. Cheated. Refuses to pay child support. Etc. If he decides to be in your child(ren)'s life and he doesn't pose a threat to their safety of course.....let him be a father. And trust I've had my share of disappointments with the opposite sex. This includes the father of my own children (don't get me started....lol). But those disappointments are my own; not my children's. My son holds his father in high esteem because their relationship is their own. My daughters believe that their father is King, not because of the rent that gets paid or the groceries that are bought but because of the love that he gives to them. Simple as that. Let your child(ren) form their own opinions. I cannot begin to list the multitudinous amount of men who have been invaluable assets to my mother, my sister and myself despite being labeled terrible fathers by the families who they've actually donated genetic material to. The same goes for my son. I've heard people speak ill of men who have patiently taught him a game or read him a book. All he knows of them is love. Love is love. Whether from a drunkard or a world leader. Sometimes the best thing that you can do for your child is to allow them their father's presence. Your relationship with him does not determine the relationship with his children. Last time I checked abortion in this country is still legal. So is adoption. So whether you care to hear it or not you decided to partake in this journey of parenthood with this person. Let your child(ren) have the good that their father can give. However diminutive it may be. If someone gives you a dollar, is it not still money that they gave you? Is money not still a good thing? Same goes for love. Be it a little or a lot. Let them have it. And for the deadbeats it is never too late. Let go and let God. Happy Father's Day to all.
My son is not much of a talker. At 4 years old he doesn't care to express himself verbally as much as other children his age. As someone who encourages the freedom of expression across many platforms, this concerned me for a minute or two. He speaks however seems more comfortable using his "baby talk" language when he's in an expressive mood. His pediatrician quickly put all negative notions to bed by asking a few questions.
Dr. Amazing: "Is he able to express to you what he needs?"
Me: "Yes"
Dr. Amazing: "Do you or his father have trouble understanding him?"
Me: "No"
Dr. Amazing: "Is he having any trouble learning?"
Me:"I mean no but....."
DR. Amazing: "Leave him alone. Every child has their own developmental time table"
And that was that. LP knows the alphabet (backward & forward), numbers, shapes, etc. He paints lovely pictures on his easel and when he isn't being territorial he is a wonderful brother to his younger sisters. Writing seemed to be a bit of a hurdle for him and so for the longest time I zeroed in on teaching him to write his name. There were many sighs of frustration as unused crayons rolled off of the table. My thoughts slowly edged toward the question of whether this was the "difficulty learning" part that the pediatrician mentioned. We were making so much progress. Maybe I'm not such a great teacher. Maybe, maybe, maybe *channeling my inner Jan Brady* So I prayed on it. And I guess the heavens saw fit to send me an answer. During one uneventful "session" while we were working on the letter P, LP looked me in the eye and said "No, Mommy" ever so sternly. I must admit that my reply was in a fit of exasperation. "Okay, what can you write then?....Sheeesh". And that's when he did it. He answered me with a simple "L, Mommy" as he scribbled it down. Just like that. Here I was pushing the issue for him to write what I wanted him to instead of asking him what it was that he could do. No wonder we were at a standstill. So I asked him if he knew how to write any other letters and the floodgates opened. The subsequent letters were O, V, and E. So thrilled was I at the breakthrough that I ended our little session with a homemade Popsicle and a short hike on a local trail. Well anyway, the next day I looked over our scrap paper and noticed that LP had written the word LOVE. This humored me to no end. He is the recipient of so much love that the very letters are subconsciously swimming around in his head. Well, that's my theory anyway. So my sentimental aka corny aka super cheesy personality had the ultimate desire to memorialize this picture. I was going to frame it. Then I entertained the idea of a tattoo. But then I stumbled upon this adorable website; kidzcandesign.com. They basically turn your child's artwork into jewelry. The customer service was excellent and I am completely satisfied with my order. Now I have it forever.
kidzcandesign.com
Day 30 – A photograph of yourself today + three good things that have happened in the past 30 days.
- I wrote more than usual
- Therefore I smiled more than usual
- And of course this made me feel more than beautiful
I'm a simple woman really.
