What's in a Date?

What’s in a Date?

At this very moment, as I watch the rain fall in heavy droves in downtown Atlanta, I sigh. My heart is heavy. I feel as dreary, gloomy and gray as the weather. My soul is sad... My spirit feels alone. . . I see the rain as being symbolic of my tears and the state of my downtrodden spirit.

My mother’s birthday is fastly approaching and I always get this way around this time of the year, like clockwork. She would have been 66 on August 23rd. The passage of time never seems to make the realization any better to accept.

I often question the “whys” of life. Why did I have to lose my mother to breast cancer? Why me? It’s simply not fair that I didn’t get to spend the time I needed and desired with her. It’s simply not fair that I didn’t get to share precious moments and events in my life with her. I wasn’t ready to let her go. We never are.

However, no one ever said life was fair.

I’ve heard it all: It was her time, she’s in a better place now, it’ll get better with time, she’s no longer suffering, you’ll see her again some day. I realize people say these things and they do mean well, but. . . it doesn’t lessen the pain. Unless you’ve walked in my footsteps, you can’t truly understand. True, with time, life does move on; it has no choice but to. Yet, there is still a dull, piercing ache that reminds me at inopportune times how I am a motherless child. I’ll never have anyone say, “That’s my child” or “I am so proud of you.” I’ll never have that unconditional love again. My heart aches and I feel all alone in the world and then just like that, the moment passes and life begins again. Life goes on, regardless.

God has blessed me with “substitute” mothers at different times in my life, even though I didn’t realize it at the time. They gave me what I needed and was missing at that moment, a mother’s love and guidance. I am so thankful and grateful for their entry into my life. I guess when it is all said and done, at the end of the day, God really doesn’t give us more than we can bear.

When Sunday, August 23rd rolls around again, I’ll try to focus on the good memories, and there were many, that I keep close to heart. Memories that I will treasure until the day I die. I’ll share stories with my children who never truly got the opportunity to know their grandmother. They were very young when she passed. Mostly, I’ll give thanks and celebration for the years I did have with her and for the independent and loving spirit she instilled in me.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Dream In Color

I have this curious thing I can do. I first noticed it around 12 years old, so this ability has been with me for quite awhile. Well, it's not really an ability . . . I'm not quite sure what one would call it.

Occasionally, I can dream something and it comes true or I can dream about a deceased relative, as if I'm talking to them and they are alive and well. Throughout the years, I have had dreams in which an event I dreamt of, actually happened. It may not happen the very next day or happen exactly like the dream, but it happens. Typically within two weeks. Don't believe me? Ask my relatives. The joke used to be: "Electa, don't come calling me talking about a dream you've had. If I was in it, I definitely don't want to hear it." There have also been many instances of visits from deceased relatives either while I'm awake or via a dream. Curiously enough, I'm not ever frightened. I always say, "We have nothing to fear from the dead, it's the living we should be afraid of."

Roughly two nights ago I experienced such a dream. I remember falling asleep with my thoughts clearly focused on my mother. I had a lot on my mind, situations that were bothering me. When my mom was alive she was one of the few people I could talk to who always put my mind at ease with just a few encouraging words. I would call her up sad or upset about something or another and it never failed, with just a few words of wisdom, in a calm, reassuring voice, my soul would be put at ease. Just like that. I never doubted her wisdom. Usually, I'd hang up the phone with my spirit lifted, laughter in my soul and seeing the problem in an entirely new light. How I miss those conversations and having someone in my life who can reassure and make everything okay in my world.

Right before dozing off that night, I recall silently asking God to send me some sign that my situation would work it's way out for the best. In the past, I've always asked for my sign to be something specific, like a red butterfly or a purple flower. For whatever reason, this time I didn't specify. Being exhausted, I fell asleep pretty quickly. That's what I do. When I have a problem I sleep and sleep and sleep.

The next morning I awoke feeling refreshed and eager to start a new day with a burst of energy. All was well in my world.

As I started my day, I vividly recalled the dream I had the night before. Most of the time, I never recall entire dreams, only bits and pieces. In my dream, myself, my sister and my mom were sitting in the kitchen at her house. The kitchen always was the central gathering spot, the center of activity. I was seated in the bar stool/chair at the counter, Tresseler (my sister) was at the kitchen table and my mom, as usual, was cooking something on the stove and drinking a cup of coffee.

To be honest, I don't remember any of the conversation. I just recall we were laughing and having a good time being in each other's company. And most of all, I recall the emotion I felt in the dream. That was what stuck with me and greeted me the next morning like an old, long lost friend. For a brief moment in time, my mom was back and I felt the familiar blanket of security and peace back in my life. I experienced the sensation of pure, unconditional love embrace and envelope me like a silky cocoon. And I awoke with the feeling, though never spoken directly to me, that everything would be okay. This too shall pass. . .

The words softly caressed my soul, lovingly whispered in my ear. And you know what, it did pass.

It's Hard Being an Adult Orphan

Even though I experienced great exhilaration on yesterday, witnessing the first African American president to be sworn into office, the dawn of a new day, I still find my mood swiftly going downhill.

It's almost January 29th.

I find myself each year, knowingly and sometimes unknowingly, moving into a mood slump. You see, January 29th is the anniversary of my mother's passing from breast cancer. She left this world ten days after my sister's birthday. My mom died with me holding her hand and whispering to her about all the love in the room.

You'd think it would get easier with each passing year, after all it has been 10+ years, but it doesn't, never does, probably never will. There will forever be an empty hole in my heart that aches to have my mom back. An emptiness exists that I'd give anything to fill.

It's hard being an adult orphan. It's even harder accepting the fact that there is no one in my lifetime who will love me with the unconditional love she possessed. I try not to become jealous when I hear other people talking about their moms and Mother's Day is the hardest. Sometimes I ask God, "Why did you have to take my Mom? Why my Mom?"

I always had visions of my children, Brandon and Briana, growing up with the warm, nurturing support and wisdom of a grandmother. I grew up with a family of women---aunts, female cousins, play aunts, etc. and I know their power, love and sacrifice.

I dreamt of them (my children) having a loving, wise presence in their life who spoiled them and lavished them with things they didn't really need---like grandmothers are suppose to do before sending them back home to their parents.

Nothing in life has prepared me for my loss, my ache, my emptiness, my loneliness. Some things just are. Don't get me wrong, in my small inner circle, I have people in my life who I love, love dearly. They bring me much joy, happiness, laughter and peace. Peace is always a little harder for me to acheive sometimes. I smile, but if you look closely, the smile never fully reaches my eyes, my soul.

Yes. Life goes on. It surely does because it certainly doesn't stop for my grief---especially after all these years. Family and friends feel I should have gotten over it by now. But those who have lost a mom, you know that you never really do. How do you "get over" not having a mom?

My confirming thought is that I must go on because that's what she'd want. My mom would want me to live a full, joyful life. She'd want me to reach for my dreams with both hands spread wide and feet firmly planted. She'd want me to experience the beauty of a rose, appreciate the loveliness of a sunset and sunrise, revel in the vastness of an ocean and know that my destiny is waiting because a higher power has made it so.

We are all placed here for a reason, a purpose. My mom fulfilled her predestination and moved on to a higher plane. Me. I'm still here for a reason, so I should strive to live the best life I can and ask God to provide the direction and guidance I need to become the best person I can become. I'm still a work in progress. I make mistakes, but I learn the lessons.

Yes, it's hard being an adult orphan, but I know my mom watches over me each and every day. My personal guardian angel. I can feel her spirit and it's telling me to be strong and live my life. . . because life without living, without joy, without passion, is simply existing.