“I would still love them all the same, Jac-kie, no matter how they chose to live their lives.” Rea said in a very matter-of-fact tone.
“When that leukemia finally got the best of Cedric I thought I was going to die. A mother should never have to bury one of her own, it’s unnatural. But in my misery the Lord showed me how blessed I was. There are so many women who can’t have children, or children causing them a bunch of grief. But we all got good kids. No, we got great kids. Not one of us has ever had to go down to the jail house or morgue over something our kids done did. Not one of these kids has given us cause to hold our heads down in this community. So what if one of them happens to be different. Big Damn Deal, Sorry Ma”
My mother looked as if she had aged 10 years since the beginning of the conversation. Her hazel eyes, that normally looked as if she had a candle burning behind her iris, were unusually dim.
“What do you have to say about all of this Mae,” Lane asked compassionately.
“I don’t want to discuss it. Whether I or any of y’all will have to discuss it one day or not, I don’t want to discuss it today,” Mae said as she looked affirmatively into the eyes of each of her sistas, wondering why Jackie looked as if she were desperately trying to fight back tears.
“Well that is that, anybody hungry,” Big Mama said as she rose to her feet and headed to the kitchen, dragging Rea along with her like a disobedient child.
“Home cooked meals won’t cure everything”, Lane murmured as she walked toward the kitchen alongside Mae.
My mother, normally outspoken overly opinionated, still sat quietly, frozen, like Rea when Credic let go of her hand for the last time. Mae never decided to discuss “It” and neither did my mother.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
As only sistas can Part 2 of 3...short story
“Mae knows I love her, and y’all know I love Ricki to death, but that boy is about to be 16 and this is something we need to talk about. Ain’t no need for us to have these family meetings if we can’t keep it real.”
“Ricki ain’t no faggot”, Mae murmured almost inaudibly. Mae looked as if she had just been pouched by E. Holified, all the color had washed out of her face and her mouth hung half way open, as if she were finding it difficult to breath.
“I knew this was a bad idea from the start”, shouted Big Mama rising to her feet headed in Mae’s direction to offer comfort as only a Big Mama can. “Family meetings, paying dues, sharing your feelings, who ever heard of such a thing! Y’all need to keep your feelings to yourself and your mouths closed and let God handle the rest.”
“Mama this is healthy,” Lane said.
Big Mama froze in mid stride as if someone yelled “stop or I’ll shot”, and everyone again felt that uncomfortable silence grip the room as Big Mama slowly turned in Lane’s direction. Ain’t nothing healthy about calling your sister’s child “different”, said Big Mama in a slow deliberate tone.
“Mama, I’m just saying what’s on my mind and what I know has crossed y’alls’ minds at one point or another.”
“Every since you came home from Spelman you think you gotta tell everrrrrrrrrrybody what’s on your mind,” snapped Big Mama. “Spelman may have thought you a lot but you still got a lot to learn. Now apologize to your sista and this is not a request.”
“Sorry Mae”, Lane said, with a touch of sincerity, a pinch of fear and a barrel-full of embarrassment. Although Lane was approaching her thirtieth birthday, her mother’s eyes and tone transformed her into a twelve year old.
“Mama, all I am saying is that we need to talk about this so we can be there for the boy and give him the support that only his family can. Or would y’all whether wait until you find the suicide note and discuss it at his funeral.”
“Oh, Lane please, that boy ain’t going nowhere”, said Rea
“I betca that’s what Nicholas’ family thought too, and we see what happen to him.”
“Y’all hear dat”, asked Big Mama in a suspicious tone.
“Hear what?” responded Lane.
“Sound like something at dat door.” replied Big Mama
“My heart dropped.” My feet became paralyzed. Big Mama was not the passive-overly affectionate kind of grandmother like the one cast in the movie Soul Food. In fact, her most often quoted scripture was spare the rod spoil the child. She had no qualms with beating the hell out of one of her grandbabies for being mouthy or meddling in grown folks business. And although I knew I was her favorite, not even Jesus Christ in the flesh could save me from her wrath if she caught me listening at the door.
“Mama that’s the wind,” said Lane
Ooo, saved.
“Who’s Nicholas?” questioned Aunt Rea.
“You remember, the boy who was in my English class that committed suicide in the locker room at Craigmont.”
“Ooo, that’s different, he was white,” said Rea nonchalantly.
“Rea, I am not even going to go there with you,” Lane snapped.
“Jackie, why you so quiet over there, don’t you have something to say,” asked Rea.
My mother looked up with a dazed look in her eyes with tension lines forming on her forehead.
“I am sorry, what did you say, Rea.”
“I saidddddddddddd why are you over there acting like the cat got your tongue.”
Even though she couldn’t see me listening and peeping under the door, I could tell by the distress in her voice that I was at the front of her mind.
“That’s Mae’s business,” mama said.
“Well, I for one wouldn’t care,” announced Rea.
“That’s because all your kids are married and got babies of their own,” my mother whispered, unfortunately not low enough to escape Rea’s hearing.
“Ricki ain’t no faggot”, Mae murmured almost inaudibly. Mae looked as if she had just been pouched by E. Holified, all the color had washed out of her face and her mouth hung half way open, as if she were finding it difficult to breath.
“I knew this was a bad idea from the start”, shouted Big Mama rising to her feet headed in Mae’s direction to offer comfort as only a Big Mama can. “Family meetings, paying dues, sharing your feelings, who ever heard of such a thing! Y’all need to keep your feelings to yourself and your mouths closed and let God handle the rest.”
“Mama this is healthy,” Lane said.
Big Mama froze in mid stride as if someone yelled “stop or I’ll shot”, and everyone again felt that uncomfortable silence grip the room as Big Mama slowly turned in Lane’s direction. Ain’t nothing healthy about calling your sister’s child “different”, said Big Mama in a slow deliberate tone.
“Mama, I’m just saying what’s on my mind and what I know has crossed y’alls’ minds at one point or another.”
“Every since you came home from Spelman you think you gotta tell everrrrrrrrrrybody what’s on your mind,” snapped Big Mama. “Spelman may have thought you a lot but you still got a lot to learn. Now apologize to your sista and this is not a request.”
“Sorry Mae”, Lane said, with a touch of sincerity, a pinch of fear and a barrel-full of embarrassment. Although Lane was approaching her thirtieth birthday, her mother’s eyes and tone transformed her into a twelve year old.
“Mama, all I am saying is that we need to talk about this so we can be there for the boy and give him the support that only his family can. Or would y’all whether wait until you find the suicide note and discuss it at his funeral.”
“Oh, Lane please, that boy ain’t going nowhere”, said Rea
“I betca that’s what Nicholas’ family thought too, and we see what happen to him.”
“Y’all hear dat”, asked Big Mama in a suspicious tone.
“Hear what?” responded Lane.
“Sound like something at dat door.” replied Big Mama
“My heart dropped.” My feet became paralyzed. Big Mama was not the passive-overly affectionate kind of grandmother like the one cast in the movie Soul Food. In fact, her most often quoted scripture was spare the rod spoil the child. She had no qualms with beating the hell out of one of her grandbabies for being mouthy or meddling in grown folks business. And although I knew I was her favorite, not even Jesus Christ in the flesh could save me from her wrath if she caught me listening at the door.
“Mama that’s the wind,” said Lane
Ooo, saved.
“Who’s Nicholas?” questioned Aunt Rea.
“You remember, the boy who was in my English class that committed suicide in the locker room at Craigmont.”
“Ooo, that’s different, he was white,” said Rea nonchalantly.
“Rea, I am not even going to go there with you,” Lane snapped.
“Jackie, why you so quiet over there, don’t you have something to say,” asked Rea.
My mother looked up with a dazed look in her eyes with tension lines forming on her forehead.
“I am sorry, what did you say, Rea.”
“I saidddddddddddd why are you over there acting like the cat got your tongue.”
Even though she couldn’t see me listening and peeping under the door, I could tell by the distress in her voice that I was at the front of her mind.
“That’s Mae’s business,” mama said.
“Well, I for one wouldn’t care,” announced Rea.
“That’s because all your kids are married and got babies of their own,” my mother whispered, unfortunately not low enough to escape Rea’s hearing.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
As only sistas can Part 1 of 3...short story
This is a short story that I wrote...It's in two parts, let me get your thoughts.....
“Well I think it is down right nasty”, grunted Aunt Macy, “Mae” for short amongst the family. “Two grown men lying up together. Ash on top of crusty ash.”
My mother sat quietly.
“Did you see how they were acting the other day on Oprah”, murmured Mae as she reached into her dress to loosen her bra and wipe the August sweat from up under her arm. “Acting like they were all in love, hugging and kissing, you know I had a mind to write Miss Thang and tell her a thing or two.”
“Yeah, I saw that episode Mae”, chimed in Aunt Rea, my mother’s oldest sista, “but I have to admit, they did seem pretty happy together. They had bought a nice house and didn’t they say they had been together for about 10 years now.”
“10 years”, shouted Mae, “he was with his wife for damn near 20 before that home-wrecker came up on da scene. I tell you the truth, these people need to be ….“Watch it, Mae.” interrupted Big Mama. “This is a holy house.”
“Goodness, Mae, you acting like you scared James bout to break you off a bit of surprising news,” joked Aunt Rea.
Aunt Lane, my mother’s closest sibling, leaned over to my mother and whispered in her ear almost inaudibly, “It ain’t James she worried about.” Lane’s words sent shivers through my mother’s spine like a chilly breeze off the Pacific. It wasn’t James that my mother was worried about either.
“Well I am just saying. They had two beautiful kids and a nice home, that poor woman.”
Big Mama, sitting with a somewhat defeated posture, sat a little slumped over in her chair, staring aimlessly into space, wishing that Rea and Mae would change the subject. The mysterious knot that had formed in her stomach the moment Mae opened her mouth on the subject was becoming unbearable, and she couldn’t even pinpoint why it was there.
“That poooor woman, hasn’t let those two beautiful kids see their loving father in ten years, and you know that ain’t right. She even said herself that he was a good father and provider. Mae, you saw with your own eyes, that youngest girl was in tears when they interviewed her begging to see her daddy.”
“Serves him right!” Snapped Mae.
“Oh Mae, be quite!” said Aunt Lane.
“Don’t start with me Lane, I ain’t in the mood!”
“You ain’t never in the mood. That’s probably why you keep that sour look on your face. Like you smelling shit all the time.”
“O-K”, chuckled aunt Rea, in a high pitched tone imitating the urban girls that come weekly to her shop to get their “dos” fried dyed and laid to the side.
“Lane, have you lost your mind, apologize to ya sista”, admonished Big Mama.
I ain’t paying her no attention, responded Mae.
“Sorry Ma, but Mae needs to come off it, cause we all know that this is something she is gonna to have to face one day, so she better get hip.”
Uncomfortable silence gripped the room as Lane’s comments took root.
“Ouuuu, You done went to far this time Lane”, Rea said.
My mother continued to sit quietly in the corner, as if she were afraid that the conversation would turn on her at any minute.
to be continued.
“Well I think it is down right nasty”, grunted Aunt Macy, “Mae” for short amongst the family. “Two grown men lying up together. Ash on top of crusty ash.”
My mother sat quietly.
“Did you see how they were acting the other day on Oprah”, murmured Mae as she reached into her dress to loosen her bra and wipe the August sweat from up under her arm. “Acting like they were all in love, hugging and kissing, you know I had a mind to write Miss Thang and tell her a thing or two.”
“Yeah, I saw that episode Mae”, chimed in Aunt Rea, my mother’s oldest sista, “but I have to admit, they did seem pretty happy together. They had bought a nice house and didn’t they say they had been together for about 10 years now.”
“10 years”, shouted Mae, “he was with his wife for damn near 20 before that home-wrecker came up on da scene. I tell you the truth, these people need to be ….“Watch it, Mae.” interrupted Big Mama. “This is a holy house.”
“Goodness, Mae, you acting like you scared James bout to break you off a bit of surprising news,” joked Aunt Rea.
Aunt Lane, my mother’s closest sibling, leaned over to my mother and whispered in her ear almost inaudibly, “It ain’t James she worried about.” Lane’s words sent shivers through my mother’s spine like a chilly breeze off the Pacific. It wasn’t James that my mother was worried about either.
“Well I am just saying. They had two beautiful kids and a nice home, that poor woman.”
Big Mama, sitting with a somewhat defeated posture, sat a little slumped over in her chair, staring aimlessly into space, wishing that Rea and Mae would change the subject. The mysterious knot that had formed in her stomach the moment Mae opened her mouth on the subject was becoming unbearable, and she couldn’t even pinpoint why it was there.
“That poooor woman, hasn’t let those two beautiful kids see their loving father in ten years, and you know that ain’t right. She even said herself that he was a good father and provider. Mae, you saw with your own eyes, that youngest girl was in tears when they interviewed her begging to see her daddy.”
“Serves him right!” Snapped Mae.
“Oh Mae, be quite!” said Aunt Lane.
“Don’t start with me Lane, I ain’t in the mood!”
“You ain’t never in the mood. That’s probably why you keep that sour look on your face. Like you smelling shit all the time.”
“O-K”, chuckled aunt Rea, in a high pitched tone imitating the urban girls that come weekly to her shop to get their “dos” fried dyed and laid to the side.
“Lane, have you lost your mind, apologize to ya sista”, admonished Big Mama.
I ain’t paying her no attention, responded Mae.
“Sorry Ma, but Mae needs to come off it, cause we all know that this is something she is gonna to have to face one day, so she better get hip.”
Uncomfortable silence gripped the room as Lane’s comments took root.
“Ouuuu, You done went to far this time Lane”, Rea said.
My mother continued to sit quietly in the corner, as if she were afraid that the conversation would turn on her at any minute.
to be continued.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Love in the time of Cholrea.....................and texting
I hate texting, hate texting, hate texting. Sorry ladies and gents, but I am still in my man hating, man loving, man hating phase, continuing my tragic routine of dating men I hate to love and others I love to hate. For the life of me I cannot figure out why men, (or as I have come to know them “tall boys with three legs”), will ask you on a date and then on the day of the date, THAT THEY SCHEDULED, text you the 3 letter word that I have come to hate more than the illusive facebook poke………….”SUP”. Thinking in my head, “DAMN, DAMN, DAMN here we go again with da dumb shit”.
Inevitably, “Sup is followed by “what you got planned for tonight”. Let the eye-rolling, teeth sucking commence. In my head, I’m thinking, “Well, like a fool I thought I was planning to meet you, since you asked me on a date, which is why, like a bigger fool, I got a haircut on a damn Tuesday (which no black man in his right mind does) which was much earlier than I needed, told my “he in to me but I’m not in to him boyfriend” I had plans and _______________ (things I can’t say on this blog but gay boys can read between the lines).
But for fear of being called “bitter” or even worst “jaded”, which I may one day find out to be true (once I get some health care, a psychologist and some medication), I texted ever so politely, “nada, sup with you”.
Does it really have to be this hard. Promise next post will be lighter. (Thinking to myself, “Lord make me White for a day”).
Sorry My Post are so late, I’m traveling.
Inevitably, “Sup is followed by “what you got planned for tonight”. Let the eye-rolling, teeth sucking commence. In my head, I’m thinking, “Well, like a fool I thought I was planning to meet you, since you asked me on a date, which is why, like a bigger fool, I got a haircut on a damn Tuesday (which no black man in his right mind does) which was much earlier than I needed, told my “he in to me but I’m not in to him boyfriend” I had plans and _______________ (things I can’t say on this blog but gay boys can read between the lines).
But for fear of being called “bitter” or even worst “jaded”, which I may one day find out to be true (once I get some health care, a psychologist and some medication), I texted ever so politely, “nada, sup with you”.
Does it really have to be this hard. Promise next post will be lighter. (Thinking to myself, “Lord make me White for a day”).
Sorry My Post are so late, I’m traveling.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Gaysha on Family
10 Truths About Your Family Nobody Will Ever Tell You
1. Drinking can sometimes help.
2. Your Mama can be both your best friend and your worst enemy.
3. There is NO substitute for a good father.
4. No family keeps secrets forever, but there will always be one that you don’t know and everybody else does.
5. Mothers treat sons better.
6. There are only 3 gifts between family members that matter, love, patience and forgiveness.
7. Black kids are really not that different from white kids.
8. Everything don’t run in da family, some of that shit just you.
9. People are able to change.
10. There is a gay in every one.
1. Drinking can sometimes help.
2. Your Mama can be both your best friend and your worst enemy.
3. There is NO substitute for a good father.
4. No family keeps secrets forever, but there will always be one that you don’t know and everybody else does.
5. Mothers treat sons better.
6. There are only 3 gifts between family members that matter, love, patience and forgiveness.
7. Black kids are really not that different from white kids.
8. Everything don’t run in da family, some of that shit just you.
9. People are able to change.
10. There is a gay in every one.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
LOL Wednesday
You know you are CORPORATE GHETTO......
if two or more of the following are true:
1. You don't officially start working in the morning until you read your emails.
2. You have at least one drawer/cabinet that contains more food than office supplies.
3. Not only do you know all the security guards, janitors and cafeteria workers, one
of them has asked you out on a date.
4. Your version of a conference call is when you call your friends and plan what you
are doing for the weekend.
5. The only time your man/woman picks you up from work is on payday.
6. Friends and family members call you at work to cuss you out because you
didn't answer your phone quick enough.
7. You paint your nails at your desk.
8. When you are on a personal call you, laugh so loud your co-workers on the
other side of the office come and ask you what's so funny.
9. You have pictures on your wall with you and your friends at the club.
10.To beat the system, you have codes for personal calls that let's someone
know to call you right back. (Let the phone ring two times and call me right back).
11. You give your out-of-town friends your company's 1-800 number.
12. Before calling in sick, you rehearse your sick voice and sick story several times out loud.
13. Coworkers inquire how your father's surgery went that required you to be out
for days and you don't even know who your daddy is.
14. You use the company's postage machine to stamp your personal mail.
15. Your kid's school supplies all have your company insignia on them, you order
personal supplies for you and your kids.
16. You call in sick on payday Friday and send your cousin to pick up your paycheck.
(Now THAT'S REAL ghetto!! Get direct deposit!!)
17. You contribute $1 to the office Christmas party, eat the most food and take
a platter of lunch meat and potato salad home to your family for dinner.
18. Before someone uses your telephone at your desk, they have to wipe
the chicken grease off the handset.
19. You call in sick on Friday because you went out on Thursday.
20. You don't like your supervisor and a couple other coworkers and you tell
them off on a regular basis and wonder why you haven't been promoted.
21. You get your haircut/hair done on lunch and come back two hours later and
then ask "Was anybody looking for me?".
22.. You cuss your creditors out for calling you at work.
23. You come to work on Friday's dressed for the club.
24. Your kids call your job and say to the operator, "Let me speak to my Mama"
25. You are sitting there reading this instead of getting your work done.
if two or more of the following are true:
1. You don't officially start working in the morning until you read your emails.
2. You have at least one drawer/cabinet that contains more food than office supplies.
3. Not only do you know all the security guards, janitors and cafeteria workers, one
of them has asked you out on a date.
4. Your version of a conference call is when you call your friends and plan what you
are doing for the weekend.
5. The only time your man/woman picks you up from work is on payday.
6. Friends and family members call you at work to cuss you out because you
didn't answer your phone quick enough.
7. You paint your nails at your desk.
8. When you are on a personal call you, laugh so loud your co-workers on the
other side of the office come and ask you what's so funny.
9. You have pictures on your wall with you and your friends at the club.
10.To beat the system, you have codes for personal calls that let's someone
know to call you right back. (Let the phone ring two times and call me right back).
11. You give your out-of-town friends your company's 1-800 number.
12. Before calling in sick, you rehearse your sick voice and sick story several times out loud.
13. Coworkers inquire how your father's surgery went that required you to be out
for days and you don't even know who your daddy is.
14. You use the company's postage machine to stamp your personal mail.
15. Your kid's school supplies all have your company insignia on them, you order
personal supplies for you and your kids.
16. You call in sick on payday Friday and send your cousin to pick up your paycheck.
(Now THAT'S REAL ghetto!! Get direct deposit!!)
17. You contribute $1 to the office Christmas party, eat the most food and take
a platter of lunch meat and potato salad home to your family for dinner.
18. Before someone uses your telephone at your desk, they have to wipe
the chicken grease off the handset.
19. You call in sick on Friday because you went out on Thursday.
20. You don't like your supervisor and a couple other coworkers and you tell
them off on a regular basis and wonder why you haven't been promoted.
21. You get your haircut/hair done on lunch and come back two hours later and
then ask "Was anybody looking for me?".
22.. You cuss your creditors out for calling you at work.
23. You come to work on Friday's dressed for the club.
24. Your kids call your job and say to the operator, "Let me speak to my Mama"
25. You are sitting there reading this instead of getting your work done.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Two Bites of a Rotten Apple
OMG, OMG OMG – for those of you who have been with me since the beginning, you know that the inspiration for this blog stemmed from the extreme disappointment I felt after being stood up at the last minute by a potential beau. This inconsiderate behavior combined with a sense of looming defeat at the fact that I still haven’t found my prince after a decade of F’ing dating (i.e. searching) led to a week or two of some serious depression, almost resulting in me giving up men all together…..almost…(Brandy singing in the background “almost doesn’t count”).
So it has been about a month since I started blogging; two weeks of depression and a few weeks of being back in the saddle, looking and feeling good. WELL WOULDN”T YOU F’ING KNOW IT…….Do I even have to tell you…….Guess who decides to call out of the blue……Mr. Can’t tell time, To lazy to send a text, Can’t keep a damn date. (Jesus take da Wheel).
OMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG and he is looking good…gooooood, I tell you…It’s not as romantic as it sounds. I am using the word “look” loosely. I haven’t actually seen him in person but we” web-camed” last night (uhummmm, fill in the blank).
So a few days ago he texted me one of those dreaded, “Who is this? I have your number in my phone but don’t remember you” texts (i.e. I am cleaning out my cell phone and I don’t really remember you but in the back of my mind I remember somebody by this name being cute). I didn’t respond….Then he followed a few minutes later with a text requesting that I send him a picture. Normally I wouldn’t comply, but I am still recovering from a few unfortunate blind dates in which I was not blind, so I am in a very humble state. (This is the first time in my life I regretted having lasik eye surgery. In the old days of ugly blind dates, I would have just taken my glasses off and felt for my utensils and glassware, pretending to make eye to eye contact, all the while focusing on blurred images). But I digress.
So we exchanged photos and he is even finer than I remembered. We then exchange a few more text messages and decide to chat on instant messenger and use our web cams (shout out to gay boys with web cams *wink* cause I know you are reading between these lines). Wouldn’t you know it, we ended up talking for 2 hours. We actually have a lot in common and he even made me laugh. So you knowwww what that means --- Get ready for two weeks of extreme depression, cause you know I asked him out, again……………
Wish me luck…….
So it has been about a month since I started blogging; two weeks of depression and a few weeks of being back in the saddle, looking and feeling good. WELL WOULDN”T YOU F’ING KNOW IT…….Do I even have to tell you…….Guess who decides to call out of the blue……Mr. Can’t tell time, To lazy to send a text, Can’t keep a damn date. (Jesus take da Wheel).
OMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG and he is looking good…gooooood, I tell you…It’s not as romantic as it sounds. I am using the word “look” loosely. I haven’t actually seen him in person but we” web-camed” last night (uhummmm, fill in the blank).
So a few days ago he texted me one of those dreaded, “Who is this? I have your number in my phone but don’t remember you” texts (i.e. I am cleaning out my cell phone and I don’t really remember you but in the back of my mind I remember somebody by this name being cute). I didn’t respond….Then he followed a few minutes later with a text requesting that I send him a picture. Normally I wouldn’t comply, but I am still recovering from a few unfortunate blind dates in which I was not blind, so I am in a very humble state. (This is the first time in my life I regretted having lasik eye surgery. In the old days of ugly blind dates, I would have just taken my glasses off and felt for my utensils and glassware, pretending to make eye to eye contact, all the while focusing on blurred images). But I digress.
So we exchanged photos and he is even finer than I remembered. We then exchange a few more text messages and decide to chat on instant messenger and use our web cams (shout out to gay boys with web cams *wink* cause I know you are reading between these lines). Wouldn’t you know it, we ended up talking for 2 hours. We actually have a lot in common and he even made me laugh. So you knowwww what that means --- Get ready for two weeks of extreme depression, cause you know I asked him out, again……………
Wish me luck…….
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