Father's Day

Today, on Father's Day ironically, I am excited and scared. I am embarking on a journey to find a woman who may be my sister.

Years ago, when I was 20 and just finding out about my mother's impending death, my family received a phone call from a woman who said my daddy was the father of her child, a child who was already a 32 year old woman. She and my mother talked and my mother explained to her what my family was facing. My mother was recently diagnosed with cancer and grappling with the fact that she had three months to live. My brother was 13 and my sister was 32, the same age as the young woman so curious to meet and know her family. My brother, sister, and I have always been different. Unlike them, I wanted to know more. I wanted to meet her and to know if she really was my blood. My brother and sister were both upset and hurt. At the time, I felt they were being irrational, but now that I'm older, I know that it was not only hurt fueling their anger, but fear as well. We were all scared, and that was ok.

The woman understood that right then was not the right time for us. She left her information, and months later, after only my mother's spirit was present, all of our family and friends had travelled back home and gone on with their lives, I thought about that young woman. My "sister".

I tried to find the number to no avail. It had been about six months or so and it seemed like ages. I figured one day I'd reach out to her and before I knew it years had gone by. Now, 12 years later, I am ashamed. I allowed so much time to go by and this young woman still had not succeeded in meeting and get to know the father she sought over a decade ago. I tear up imagining how I would feel in that situation. The courage it took for her mother to dial our number was huge, but unsuccessful.

Sometimes I think I may have seen her before. I could've been in the same room with her or even shared a conversation. I don't want to let another day go by without doing what I can to find out the truth. Today, on Father's Day ironically, I picked up the phone and asked my dad if it was ok if I tried to locate the woman and her daughter, and like I knew he would he said sure. He said he had thought about her sometimes, too. Now I am awaiting a call from a family member who may have the key to unlocking this mystery and opening our book to a new chapter.

Family has always been important to me, but as I age, it is the most important thing to me. Knowing my family, being with family and, one day, starting a family is almost all that I think about. Family is really all we have. I am truly reminded that on this Father's Day.

Dealing...

Periodically, I think about my blog site, sitting lonely without a new post from me and all my avid followers wondering where I've been. Just kidding :). But, I do think from time to time that I need to get out my thoughts and sometimes it just gets so hard to sit down and write. That fact in itself tells me that I'm not doing what I promised and taking some time for me. Writing is therapeutic and always has been for me. And I, at this very moment and for the past few months, need some therapy. In September, my aunt, my favorite aunt, the one who I felt was a kindred spirit and like a best friend left this earth unexpectedly. I have yet to deal with that fact.

I just kind of went on with life. And, though I think about how shocked and in disbelief I am, I move on with my routine and continue on with my day, never really coming to terms with the fact that she is gone and I will NEVER see her, nor talk to her again. I am old enough and wise enough to know that you don't question God or his decisions, but there's an imperfect and naive part of me that asks the question "why?" My aunt was 56 years old, a baby in my book, and in seemingly good health. She had a heart attack and quickly passed on. So sudden, too quick.

But the sadness that I feel comes more from the fact that she and I had just reconnected. My aunt had gone through a state of depression in about 2004 when she had to leave her job because of recurring back and neck pain and get on disability. Unfortunately, this huge transition made it hard for her to face family. At the time she lived in California and began to not return phone calls and emails to the point that most of us realized, "Well, I guess she'll call when she's ready." We were certain she was at least "ok" because my grandmother was the one person whose calls she knew she had to answer. Grandma relayed to us that she was fine. She sometimes told my grandmother to tell me hi, and my grandmother also told me that my aunt admitted that she felt badly that she hadn't talked to me. But still my phone calls went unanswered.

I eventually realized I had to give her some space and allow her time to contact me when she was ready. In the summer of 2010, I was blessed with the opportunity to attend a five day conference in Long Beach, California. Unbeknownst to me the conference was an intense 8 a.m. to 10 p.m. ordeal. On my second day, I received a phone call from a California number and it never occurred to me that it would be her. Yet, it was my aunt calling, because she heard I was in town and she had come to a point where it was easier to reach out to family. She began to tell me how sorry she was because she felt like she had let me down as well as my mother to whom she had promised she'd be there for me. I humbly told her it was ok and that I was just so elated to be talking to her. Because of my busy schedule I quickly had to go, but I was in a euphoric haze that day knowing that the "Thelma" to my "Louise" was back in my life.

For the next several months we kept in touch and then I got the news that my aunt was moving back home to Arkansas to be closer to my grandmother. That Christmas we saw each other for the first time in years and it was fabulous. We laughed and cried and the one woman who I felt understand all of my fears, dreams, and aspirations as well as my stress and obstacles was there for me and I in turn was there for her. In February of that next year, I called on her to talk me through a very tough time and she was there like I remembered. My aunt always had somewhat of a spiritual presence in my life. She was able to talk me through a situation, and without telling me what to do, make things clearer for me to make informed decisions. Her relationship with God was immeasurable and her love for the Lord contagious. She started texting me scriptures and sweet inspirational quotes and she always brightened my day with her giddy disposition. She left no situation in a funk. Whatever she touched was better than it was before she arrived.

She was home in Arkansas for nine months when she went home to her father. I, along with another one of my aunts, believe that she came home to say goodbye to us all. If that's the case, I am so happy that I got that opportunity. She was also able to reconnect, even if for a short time with all of her children except one during that time period. I am confident that those opportunities gave her pleasure and probably closure. My other aunt and I also believe that she knew she was sick and as angry and upset as we are to not have known so that we could try to help her, we understand that she probably felt that her time here was coming to an end.

We don't know how long we have here and we don't know if the last time we see someone will ultimately be the last time. I am blessed to have known such a beautiful, spiritual, and enlightening woman, Patricia Ann Harris.

As I am sitting here getting these tough thoughts and realizations out of my head I acknowledge that I am dealing with the fact that she is gone. And I also acknowledge that it will take time-time to heal, time to understand, and time to grow. Fortunately, my aunt had planted those seeds in my well before she left this earth. She taught me to call on God and give him my desires and fears so that I can understand what is needed to heal, understand and ultimately grow. Remembering her teachings is how I deal.

A New Outlook...on an old problem

Work. Exertion or effort directed to produce or accomplish something; labor; toil.

I've been working very hard for as long as I can remember and I'm tired.Why have I been working so hard? Because I want to help people. That's not good enough. Well, it is important to help people, but not at the expense of yourself.

I've been thinking long and hard on how much I do for others. Don't get me wrong I'm not turning over a new leaf to be selfish but I'm starting to see that "Can you..." rolls off people's tongues very easily the more I do for them and the more they see me do for others. Even when I'm in the midst of doing something this sly smile comes over their faces when they say "do you think you could do one more thing?" Really, REALLY! And don't even get me started on the people around me who do not do anything and it NEVER dawns on the begging idiot to ask that person over there twiddling those lazy thumbs. So...

Ive decided...

It's back to being about me. I have not worked out. I have not went grocery shopping. I have not done much of anything that wasn't sorority based, job based, or for someone else in a long time. Even spending time with my family gets put to the side when I have too much going on.

I recently lost my righT to watch cable...yeah I'm gonna pay that bill one day. But having that free time--especially since we went digital and all I get is snow--I've picked up a book that sits near my bed and for the most part collects dust. The Bible. I've enjoyed reading it and analyzing it. It's a blessing to have time to get closer to the only word that will protect me, see me through and comfort me.

I want to be able to walk slowly and smell the flowers, heck I want to plant the flowers. I want to be able to not just clean up but dust and shine and water plants so they won't look and feel just as dead as I've been feeling. The hustle and bustle of life should not consume and neither should being nice enough to do for others. First, I must do for me. That's my plan and I'm sticking to it...I hope.

Another one bites the dust...

Wow...so I'm on the road to rediscovering the concept of dating. Really enjoyed it to until ^%&%**# BAM!!!!!! WE HIT A BRICK WALL!

WTF! What happened? Why does it always seem like I'm the last to know that it wasn't going well. Didn't we just have a nice flirty and cute conversation? So why all of a sudden do I get a cold shoulder...short conversation and emotionless texts.

I have had about enough.

As I started aging, I realized that what I wanted in life I was only going to receive if I opened my mouth. So even though I was shy (some of my friends don't believe this!) and sometimes an introvert who found it hard to voice my opinions, I started speaking up. And despite my extreme fear of rejection I starting telling the opposite sex, "I like you. I want to see you again to see where this could go." Now, it didn't always work but I felt progress. Isn't that the ultimate goal you'd like to achieve with age--progress? So why do the "gentlemen" I find myself dealing with lack progress or even a clear and strong voice to admit how they feel and be honest with me. I am starting to question myself and I guess that's okay. Any person who seeks personal growth should. But, I'm a little afraid of the answer I might find...

Refresher

Man! I can't believe it's been this long since I've blogged. I guess it doesn't matter since I don't have any followers except one and she probably forgot about me.:)

I guess I should use this as a refresher to get acclimated to blogging again. But I guess it's like riding a bike...

So something that's been on my mind...the opposite sex. Can't live with 'em...can't live with 'em. Why is it so hard to fathom being without a mate, companion or special friend but at the same time when you've been single for so long you can't imagine how or which way to jump back into the "together" mode?

Sometimes that's not like riding a bike...more like driving a dumptruck-I have no clue how to maneuver that rig with all that baggage or even without all the baggage since it still has the capacity to hold a lot or let things fall.

Where do you start? Do you say to this new person, "Give me a minute; let me get my bearings"? Or do you wait until you know this person is right and say, "Can I be honest? I'm afraid." Taking the "I got this" road just seems so untrue because sometimes we don't have this. But sometimes we don't want to make a big deal out of one or two dates...even though those dates may lead to the rest of your life.

It's not easy to tell; so should I risk it?

Hmmm....

My fear

Ok so this is the third day and I feel I need to say something to the world. I'm trying to get used to this blogging thing but time is of the essence. Where is the time? Where did it go? What's on my mind right now is ALL THE STUFF that I have to do. I thought I was on summer break...I have to make some changes or else I will be consumed by paperwork! Teacher eaten by a ream of paper ...what a headline.

Day 1

So...I created this blog for my grad class but I am actually excited to do this. A friend of mine showed me his like 2 years ago and I thought, "who has the time for that?" But...to make time to get my thoughts out of my head before it explodes is probably the smartest thing I could ever do.