with me that every day
something has tried to kill me
and has failed.”
– Lucille Clifton
Last week, Saturday, October 3, 2020, I buried my mother.
On Tuesday, September 22nd, we learned she might night make it. That night I spent the night in the basement on the couch watching Grey’s Anatomy episodes with a glass of wine. I couldn’t sleep, but you will inevitably fall asleep on the sofa when you are downstairs in my house. We’ve had the couch for a while, and it has claimed many victims who promised themselves it was not comfortable enough to tame them. What also happens is I lose service down there, and while I drifted, my phone rang and rang, but I couldn’t hear it.
Finally, I went upstairs, and my phone rang again. My heart dropped. There is only one reason people call that early. I accepted my sister’s call and asked, “why are you calling me so early?,” although I already knew the answer.
“It was the twenty-third of September. That day I’ll always remember, yes I will ‘Cause that was the day that my mama died”
The next day, September 24th my aunt, my late dad’s sister, also passed.
I didn’t talk about it, but my Uncle John passed earlier this year on May 28th, two days after my birthday, and on June 2nd, a dear friend and brother passed.
The world also lost Kobe Bryant, Chadwick Boseman, and Thomas Jefferson Byrd, known best for his role as Luther from Set It Off. He passed the day we buried my mother.
I need no more reminders of how fragile life is, and that’s what sticks out to me the most in my time of silence as I seek to process all this death.
I think we are all aware of this delicacy that is life, but it becomes much more real when a loved one passes. It is then that we realize how insignificant we are and precious too. The insignificance is the weakness of our flesh; how it so easily topples and breaks down. The preciousness is the breath of life, without which we are lumps of clay.
It made me think about how we treat each other. It wasn’t until Yah breathed into Adam the breath of life that he became a living being. We are nothing without this power, and yet, we treat each other as if the breath pulsing through our veins differs from someone else’s. We treat each other as if the Almighty can’t call our spirit back at any moment.
What right do I have to mistreat someone when I return to the Earth just as they will? What right do I have to judge someone’s life or mock their pain when I know that I bleed just as they do?
What right does any of us have to think we are better than anyone else when the sun rises and falls on all of us, righteous and wicked, alike?
There are so many promises we make to one another at times, such as this. We promise to be there for one another, we promise to keep in touch, and we promise to appreciate the time we have.
But these promises do not last and are only remembered at the next funeral.
Our life is like the wind, a breeze that comes and goes. How I wish we could be consciously aware of our own lives’ fragility as we live and not only in death.
Don’t forget to grab your copy of My Soul is a Witnessand leave a review as reviews help to expose the work of Independent Artists.
This song is deep. If you can’t see the video, look it up in your country. It’s called “Brenda’s Got a Baby” by Tupac. The song is based on a true story. In March of 1991, The New York Times published an article about a baby who was saved by maintenance men from a trash compactor (umbilical cord still attached) where his 12-year-old mother put him. The maintenance men heard the baby’s cries and called the police—the baby was ultimately placed in Foster Care.
The girl got pregnant as a result of being raped by her cousin. The inspiration for the song came when Tupac read the story in the NYT when he was filming the movie Juice. They filmed the music video in January 1992.
This isn’t the first time Pac’s done this either. He dedicated lyrics to Robert “Yummy” Sandifer, the 11-year-old who died in Chicago and garnered National Attention (the catalyst for the tearing down of the Chicago Projects, read more about him in my post here.) And the killing of Latasha Harlins, a 15-year-old Black girl killed by a Korean store owner in 1992, where he dedicated the song “Keep Ya Head Up”, saying in his sophomore album, “because a bottle of juice is not something to die for.” Latasha’s death, along with the beating of Rodney King that same year, became detonators of the 1992 Los Angeles riots.
Like I said on this blog before, black music and television are also part of black history. I put the most powerful lyrics (in my opinion of course) of the song in bold below.
“Now Brenda’s belly is gettin’ bigger
But no one seems to notice any change in her figure
She’s 12 years old, and she’s having a baby
In love with the molester, who’s sexing her crazy
…he left her, and she had the baby solo
She had it on the bathroom floor and didn’t know so She didn’t know what to throw away and what to keep
She wrapped the baby up and threw him in the trash heap…”
We are six days away from the eBook release of my new novella, Even Salt Looks Like Sugar so this is your once in a blue moon shameless self-promotion post. Go get it!!
Okay. Now that I have your attention. What is this about any way?
Wanda wants nothing more than to escape the oppressive upbringing of life with her abusive foster mother. Miss Cassaundra manipulates the system by bringing lost children into her home turned whorehouse and collecting the money. Wanda knows what it’s like to be abandoned and has no doubt Abby is Cassaundra’s next case. When an opportunity arises, that could save them both, Wanda must find a way to get the paperwork that will secure their freedom. But Cassaundra’s got eyes everywhere and no one can be trusted when even salt looks like sugar.
You should read this book if:
You are into Young Adult Fiction
You are passionate about African American experiences
You love women’s fiction
You love and care about children
You suspect something is wrong with America’s Foster Care system
You’ve been in the foster care system
You are a mother
You didn’t grow up with a mother
You are short on reading time (this is a short novel)
You are short on finances (this book is just 99cents)
PreOrder this short novel today in eBook at just 99cents on Amazon. CLICK HERE!!
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