My First Love......

Selfish.  That’s how I feel when I think to myself I want my mom out of this misery.  It’s misery.  I’m waiting for my mother to die.

 It’s my family and I gathering around her hospice bed, looking at her, crying over her, praying for her, and feeling sorry for her.  We touch her, hold her hands, run our fingers through her course hair, and stroke her cheek.  We play music from her hay day, hoping she enjoys the melody, hoping they are bringing to life some memory inside of her, hoping for a sign that she enjoys this time we are with her.

I randomly whisper in her ear “I love you”, “You were a great mother to me”, “I’m right here next to you”, and “I’m sorry this had to happen to you mommy”.  I can no longer expect a response, I can only tell her things in hopes that she can understand what it is I am doing.  Inconsolably, I’m waiting for my mother to die.

My nightmares are no longer of what’s under the bed, or what’s hiding in the closet, or of when the boogie man will strike.  My nightmare is not necessarily at “night”.  What I fear is my telephone ringing; I fear what I may hear on the other end.  It is a waiting game, a horrible, atrocious, ghastly waiting game that I cannot stop at my leisure. 

My thoughts regarding my mother these days are not of the good times, or the wonderful memories, unfortunately.  My thoughts bring tears, pain, and extreme panic.  My thoughts cannot move past the image of her lying in bed unable to effectively communicate with her loved ones.  My thoughts….

My primary parent is leaving this earth sooner than later, and this feeling is foreign for me.  I don’t know what to expect. My life will no longer be the same.  This experience has PERMANENTLY changed the fabric of what the rest of my life will be. All I know is my mother, her voice, her touch, her smile, her laugh, her smell, her mannerisms. 

 I am ANGRY!  I am HURTING!  I want to SCREAM!!!! HOW DO I MOVE FORWARD?  WHY DID THIS HAPPEN?  WHAT DO I DO?   There is absolutely nothing I can do, but “Wait for my mother to die…..”

John 14:1-3 

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.

Memories of Mother.....

I’m at a crossroad in my life.  My mom is suffering from the end stages of dementia (A form of Alzheimers), and it has been quite difficult for my family and siblings to see her at this stage.  Whenever I see her, I get weak, and I want to break down in tears….as she is but a shell of the vibrant woman I remember.

I think back to yester year when she was well.  I think of the littlest of things like her hands, and how pretty they were with long nails. My mother smoked many years ago, so I remember her holding a cigarette between her delicate fingers, and lifting it to her mouth.  I remember the gap between her two front teeth and how beautiful it looked when she smiled.  I remember her laugh as she would talk on the phone to her sister. She is no longer able to speak so I think of her sweet voice.

Many days when she would come home from work, my sister and I would hope she had treats for us.  If any of you are from New York and are familiar with the 34^th Street “Herald Square” train station many years ago, you may remember the candy concession stand dead center after you paid your token.  My mother would stop and get her favorite candy, “Jordan Almonds”.  I remember this so clearly, they came in a small white paper bag, and she would eat them on the way home while riding the train.  If there were any left my sister and I would share them, Oh!  How we loved those little candies.   I have many memories that are so VERY precious to me.

I love you so much mommy, so very much.  I’m crying as I type, as I am filled with emotion.  It has occurred to me that at some point you may not remember me, BUT if you ever feel a slight wind pass your ear, just know it’s me whispering “I love you, and you will always be with me….”

DDW

The End of Sadness….

All alone, and left with my thoughts.  I doubt anyone cares.  I cry often, begging God for finality, and ease of anguish.  Despair, disdain and desperation begin to set in.  I wonder what my purpose in life is, and will it reveal itself in time. My sadness is real, my loneliness is real, and my emotional downward spiral is REAL!

 I have no one to turn to; no one takes my heartache and pain serious.  My furtive calls for help fall upon deaf ears.  The earliest I can speak with someone professionally is ninety days, when I need to speak with someone now.  Will anyone listen before its too late?  

When all is done, there will be many who will come to see me, who will cry for me, who will have distant fond memories of me, but I’m not fooled.  They never cared.  If they cared, they would have been with me before my departure.  Talking to me, consoling me, uplifting me, holding me, telling me they love me, and I have nothing to fear.  WHERE WERE YOU?!?!?  The lights and the fire are out, too late for your words of comfort and kindness that you stand on the podium to recite.  It’s stuffy, dark and tight in here, but I hear you all weep. The pastor reads his scripture, the flowers are thrown, the dirt is shoveled, and those who have grieved and mourned my passing are now leaving to go back to living their lives.  It is forever, the end of my sadness….

*This post is NOT about me, but I do understand some aspects of this writing.  At times I'm sad, cry and speak with God on various issues.  However, there are people who follow through with suicide due to lack of resources or we don’t see the signs.  Please try to be aware of the signs, and be willing to help…. 

http://www.webmd.com/depression/depression-helpline

Wake up....!

No need to wonder why some women are single. The answer is a simple one. Women have been brainwashed. Recent generations of women have been taught to take care of ourselves, provide for our children, to be “just as good or bad” as a man, independent, and to compete in the workforce with men. When in fact we should be being taught to be loyal, submissive (honor and respect, not dominance) and most importantly know your role as the woman in the relationship. I wonder if being taught all of the independence, we lose what the role and demeanor of a woman should be. Some women want to run shit, they want to be the head of the family, yet they still want the man to be manly. How can he be? How can a man feel manly, when some women throw in their man’s face how much they don’t need them? How they, the woman, can do everything by and for themselves. Simply put a real man cant. Keep in mind, a loser will revel in the thought of you “holding it down” –ALONE.

I am guilty of being brainwashed. I find that the teachings of the recent generations left me with a very strong personality, and this, along with my independence leaves me empty. In a dream I had, I was speaking to a woman who had been cheating with a married man, and while speaking with her, she mentioned her lover preferring to speak to her in place of his wife. When I asked why, her answer was as simple as “It’s how I speak to him.” At that very moment I awoke, and was unable to get back to sleep. I hung onto those words and began thinking just how important communication is within a relationship. I began to think of myself in the wife’s place, in the sense of how I may be speaking to the men I have dealt with. My strong personality and independence leads me to believe I can run shit, so in turn I lean towards dominating the relationship. I’m sorry ladies, but a REAL man will not allow it!

The Real Man: A real man who loves you will check this type woman, and feel assured that the negative manner, disrespectful behavior or tone in which she speaks or displays will not happen again. No one wants anyone who is weak, and I am not promoting scare tactics. A man wants a woman to be soft and angelic, and a woman, a man who is compassionate and sensitive, but weak, NO. However, there have to be rules in place in a relationship. Once again, know your role or better yet, play your position, or game over!

The Loser: A loser who is looking for the free ride OR the guy that just wants to be in your presence will not check your dominance or manner in which you speak to him. Why would he? He is comfortable in knowing his place and or role. He knows your bills will be paid, the food will be bought, the sex will be given in rations (he is satisfied with any amount you give him), and the children will be cared for. He knows that if he abides by your rules, stays out of your way, and be the “yes” man, all is good. He knows you complain to your girlfriends about how he is, and he could care less, because his eyes are on the prize – YOU. This is not the man you want in your life ladies.

So, how does one change who they’ve become? How do I suppress the very essence of who I have been brainwashed to be? How do I find the real man I am in search of? It’s a huge challenge for me, but one that I am dedicated to overcome. The driving force behind me wanting to change my dominating ways, is the fact that I want my next relationship to be my last love.

There is a very real and true statement that we need to incorporate in our everyday routine, and it goes: “You will always catch more bees with honey, than you will flies with crap…”

Talk to me....
DDW

I am PERFECT....!

I am content and satisfied with every flaw, as I know God created me with nothing but greatness in mind. My stretch marks are the result of birthing two beautiful children that are developing into strong young men. My nose is big because God intended for me to take in deep breathes and inhale the air He streams into my body. My breasts are sized in accordance to supply my children with just enough nourishment. There is no need to strive to be any more PERFECT than what I am; my soul is at peace, my heart is pure, I am in direct alignment with God’s plan…

If you had vision you would be able to look beneath my surface and see that I am precious, but I am not for every man to experience. My PERFECT body may not be for you. You may be in search of IMPERFECTION, to which I have no account. Your search for IMPERFECTION may be the disguise you wear to lift your low self esteem. You’re right! Pass me by; I want no part in uplifting you. So goodbye, I bid you farewell, as I watch you walk pass PERFECTION and not even know it.

I am at peace with who I am. Folk see what "they believe" are my flaws and wonder how I can be so confident. My bald head is held high, my posture is erect, my stride is that of a thoroughbred, and the grace and elegance of my style is effortless, I will not allow you to disturb my PERFECT peace, because PERFECT is who I AM….

Talk to me....
DDW

The Confusing Dating Game.....

Eight months have passed since I wrote my blog on being single, and nothing has changed. I have met and dated men, but none of them seemed ready to go the distance, want to commit, simply were not interested, or maybe the chemistry was non-existent. I’ve grown to dislike the, at times grueling process of dating. I am not interested in acquiring anymore male friends, as the two I have are more than enough. When I get this vibe, I am completely uninterested in even a friendship. I do enjoy dating when it seems there is a mutual enthusiasm and interest. Perhaps I am not clearly articulating my expectations, or if I am, it could be a little premature which scares them off??? The uncertainty is what confuses me the most. I have been on enough dates to know when the objective is no more than a conquest, and on those dates, my non-interest is immediately noticed.

I wonder why men send signals that seem to be from “outer space.” I’ve met many men who were attracted to me, who have been persistent in getting to know me. Men who send me flowers, cards, candy, perfume and text cute notes to let me know they were thinking of me. Men who take me out to lovely restaurants and say all the right things – everything seems to be moving in the right direction. Then, out of nowhere the enthusiasm changes, our communication and conversation seem to diminish, their interest wanes, and they disappear without a trace or a clue with no explanation.

I find this behavior immature, frustrating, confusing and ambiguous. I’ve asked some of my male friends to share their thoughts/points of view on this behavior. What they shared still left me puzzled, and wanting more insight. I don’t believe it has anything to do with my demographic area, my age, my standards, my looks, the so-called ratio of women to men, where I work, how much money I have or any other excuse you can think of to determine why I am single. We are individuals and we all have an agenda. Finding that individual with an agenda that’s similar to ours is the challenge.

I want to believe finding my soul mate is all about timing, Godspeed, fate and destiny. When your soul mate arrives it will be the two of you coming together at a precise moment in time that cannot be controlled, determined or foreseen. However, I do wonder if I should stand still, and allow fate to take its natural course – OR – if I should intervein and help fate along, by looking for the man that is to be my “soul mate”?

My ideal soul mate and I will be equally yoked, and have the same goals in life. Our lifestyles and values will be consistent with one another. We will instantly know that we belong together – there will be no mistake about that. Establishing our relationship will be effortless, and loving each other will be easy. There will be a sense of peace and harmony, respect and admiration, caring and trust. We will form a bond that cannot be broken, and God will bless this unity with unconditional love, faith in Him, prosperity, and compassion.

I will keep you updated on my progress, or lack there of.

Talk to me….
DDW

Imagine……a journey through time.

I’m imagining I am a “slave” in the late 1700’s early 1800’s in Virginia. I am there. I am amongst my people, clueless as to why I am in this forsaken country, this foreign land with foreign verbiage. Transported in a vessel to the other side of the world chained together with my brothers and sisters as if we were ainmals. Why were we snatched from our land, from our communities, from our culture? Was there no one who could farm your land, raise your children, cook your meals, and bore your unwanted children who I grew to love? My hands are callous, my back is weak, my arthritic hands and knees have had enough of the rigorous work you have ordered me to do. And in return you feed me the remains of animals you would not feed your dog, you give me rags to wear on my back, and sell my family members on the auction block to the highest bidder.

You are evil. You came to our land and snatched us, you came into our shacks and raped us, you whipped our strong men with the hopes that you would break them. You remedy us ignorant, you degrade and abuse us. However, we remain strong. We look to God to deliver us from this torture. You can not break me you people devoid of color, you have tried, but you can NOT break me!

I’m imagining I am a “nigger” in the 1960’s, in rural Alabama. I am there. I am amongst my people, clueless as to why I am still treated like less than a man. Why are we sprayed with water from hoses, ordered to sit on the back of the bus, and crosses burned in our front yard? I ask myself “Does my color and or presence scare you?” Are you now threatened by my freedom and what it is I could possibly do to you? What is it that makes you want to treat me unlike the man I am? I know. You think me beneath you. You call yourself a Christian, but are unaware, or refuse to believe that God has created man equal. I am free. I am no longer obligated to call you “massa” and agree with you “Yes sah boss.” I am my own man. I now receive pay for the rigorous work I do, although my wages are not equalled to the labor performed. I no longer have to show “freedom papers” as proof of my humanity.

I am afraid to walk the dark roads past a certain hour, fearful that I may be hung from a tree. I walk with my head down, afraid that if I look up, I would have broken some unwritten law. I know my place, although I am not happy with this condition. I pray the leaders of the Civil Rights movement are protected by the hand of God, and that someday Black folk will not have to live in fear. “We” are a strong people, you can not break me you members of a racist group of European decent, you have tried, but you can NOT break me!

I am an “African-American” today, in New York City. I am here. I live in a big city among many cultures and am thankful for the opportunities and possessions that I have. My ancestors did not die and suffer in vain. They died securing the freedom and privileges that we enjoy. No longer can you demean me to my face, spit on me, and rape our women with no recourse. I am human, and you have begun to treat me as such.

To the amazement of our ancestors, the leader of this country is of African decent. Barack Hussein Obama, all praise is due! I am happy, but I am NOT surprised. We are a strong, intelligent people. We were born to be great. We have endured much pain and suffering in our past, for this day to be before us. President Barack Obama along with all who value freedom are standing on the shoulders of our ancestors who suffered so that we, our children, and generations to come, will not have to experience the injustices that they gave their lives for.

Barack Obama is our payback without violence. He is the silent scream of our ancestors.

Talk to me…..
DDW