Dynamics of a Family

"Drive carefully, be safe, and keep in contact with everyone on your drive home."

Those were the words that were spoken over the phone to me by my stepfather, Laymon, the day heavy rains hit metro Atlanta and caused historic flooding.

His words brought both comfort and tears. Why the tears you may ask? The tears came because I wasn't expecting anyone, besides my husband, to call concerned about my safety and well being. I know that's a drastic statement, but it's true. To understand that statement, you have to understand my family. The family dynamics.

Most of my family members, a very small group, do not freely express emotion; it comes hard for them. They show the world a tough exterior, whereby the interior is soft and cuddly. I realize I am very loved but I know this from actions, not words. Actions do speaker louder than words but sometimes. . . words are nice, too.

If my mom were alive that phone call would have been expected because she was always concerned about my safety, with me working in downtown Atlanta, and simply by me being a black woman in this crazy world of ours. My mom was a scary cat in some ways; she wouldn't take a shower unless someone was in the house with her. Many times I had to delay going home in order for her to take one. Yet, on the other hand, she'd stand up with a powerful and strong voice for anything she believed in and felt passionately about.

I've spoken in other blogs about the death of family members over the last few years. All the pillars of my family are gone and sometimes I wonder if things will ever be the same again. Then I realize I can't live in the past; we have to create new beginnings. Of course, I have my immediate family and cousins that I see on a non consistent basis. However, no one has risen to the position as the matriach and that is sadly missing.

Life has changed since I lost the "wise" ones whose words and comments kept me rooted, comforted and ground in family and tradition. I still remember how happy I'd be when my Uncle Robert would say: "You looking pretty today, gurl." "I miss you, when you gonna move back to Georgia where you belong. Ain't nothing like family." Or my Aunt Doll saying, "Come here and give me a hug. How you been doing? Still ain't no bigger than a pea. You need to come by and visit me more often. "I cooked some collards, chicken, corn bread and potato pie. Fix you a plate to take with you. Foils on the counter." "Or my Aunt Cat saying: "I saw you in the paper again, keep up the good work."

Mostly I miss my mom saying: "I'm proud of you." Or her bragging to her friends about me. Now. . . achievements come and I move on to the next goal without much fanfare because I don't expect to receive it.

Eventually, just a lingering emptiness remains, unspoken.

I'm so happy and rejoice in the fact that I'm raising a son and daughter who are not afraid to say, "I love you," or bestow hugs and kisses, even when their friends are around. That makes my day and places a big smile on my face.

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.