Just Venting
.. ..
With the holidays making their way into each of our homes, one should be focused on what it is we should celebrate this time of year. Periodically we look back to the last year to gauge our progress. Unfortunately, for most of us, misfortune has touched us more than once this year. We are a people who bounce back situation after situation, time after time. We understand the term “in everyone’s life, rain must fall”. This year there are those of us who have found they couldn’t “stand the rain”.
There are those of us who have lost our jobs, been stricken with lingering medical conditions, lost our homes, suffered through natural disasters, and those are the unforeseen situations we have faced. We still had to bury loved ones, visit the sick, care for our families and keep ourselves from fallen victim to depression.
Yes, the holidays are upon us. The children, those that still know they are still children, are looking toward this upcoming holiday anticipating good food and the warmth of family. Have you emphasized the importance of your family values? Are they still in place when all else seems to be fading away? The nucleus, the family has been lost as well. We’ve found every excuse for the broken family and over the years adopted it as acceptable. Yes, we have single parents, homes where both parents work, homes where grandparents are raising the next generation. Yes, we have latch key children, monitoring their siblings because there is more safety home alone than in with a neighbor. Yes, we have microwave dinners, no more Sunday meals with Grandma, and now, as scheduled, here’s the holiday. The time when we all come together until……next year, if it is God’s will.
I say to you let this be your last holiday season that you embrace as the only time to cherish what you have. Your health, your wealth and your family needs to be held dearly. Use this holiday season to start a new season a season of regard. Regard for others, for all, for those you care for and those that care for you. Tomorrow or the next holiday is not promised to you, neither is your present condition. Let’s all stop and use this Thanksgiving to be thankful, give thanks to God, our families and our friends.
Have a Happy and Safe Thanksgiving!
Nanette
Monday, November 23, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Is the Strong Black Woman Dead.....??
Subject: DEATH OF A BLACK WOMAN
{This is DEEP!}
While struggling with the reality of being a human instead of a myth, the strong black woman passed away. Medical sources say she died of natural causes, but those who knew her know.
She died from being silent when she should have been screaming, smiling when she should have been raging, from being sick and not wanting anyone to know because her pain might inconvenience them.
She died from an overdose of other people clinging to her when she didn't even have energy for herself.
She died from loving men who didn't' t love themselves and could only offer her a crippled reflection.
She died from raising children alone.
She died from the lies her grandmother told her mother and her mother told her about life, men & racism..
She died from being sexually abused as a child and having to take that truth everywhere she went every day of her life, exchanging the humiliation for guilt and back again.
She died from asphyxiation, coughing up blood from secrets she kept trying to burn away instead of allowing herself the kind of nervous breakdown she was entitled to, but only white girls could afford.
She died from being responsible, because she was the last rung on the ladder and there was no one under her she could dump on.
The strong black woman is dead.
She died from being a mother at 15 and a grandmother at 30 and an ancestor at 45.
She died from being dragged down and sat upon by un-evolved women posing as sisters and friends.
She died from tolerating Mr. Pitiful, just to have a man around the house.
She died from sacrificing herself for everybody and everything when what she really wanted to do was be a singer, a dancer, or some magnificent other.
She died from lies of omission because she didn't want to bring the black man down.
She died from tributes from her counterparts who should have been matching her efforts instead of showering her with dead words and empty songs.
She died from myths that would not allow her to show weakness without being chastised by the lazy and hazy.
She died from hiding her real feelings until they became hard and bitter enough to invade her womb and breasts like angry tumors.
She died from always lifting something from heavy boxes to refrigerators all by herself.
The strong black woman is dead.
She died from never being enough of what men wanted, or being too much for the men she wanted.
She died from being too black and died again for not being black enough.
She died from being misinformed about her mind, her body & the extent of her royal capabilities.
She died from knees pressed too close together because respect was never part of the foreplay that was being shoved at her.
She died from loneliness in birthing rooms and aloneness in abortion centers.
She died in bathrooms with her veins busting open with self-hatred and neglect.
And sometimes when she refused to die, when she just refused to give in she was killed by the lethal images of blond hair, blue eyes and flat butts.
Sometimes, she was stomped to death by racism & sexism, executed by hi-tech ignorance while she carried the family in her belly, the community on her head, and the race on her back!
The strong black woman is dead!
Or is she? No she isn't, it was just a thought.
Author Unknown
Pass it on to all the strong black women you know....and the men who know them better I just did...'
{This is DEEP!}
While struggling with the reality of being a human instead of a myth, the strong black woman passed away. Medical sources say she died of natural causes, but those who knew her know.
She died from being silent when she should have been screaming, smiling when she should have been raging, from being sick and not wanting anyone to know because her pain might inconvenience them.
She died from an overdose of other people clinging to her when she didn't even have energy for herself.
She died from loving men who didn't' t love themselves and could only offer her a crippled reflection.
She died from raising children alone.
She died from the lies her grandmother told her mother and her mother told her about life, men & racism..
She died from being sexually abused as a child and having to take that truth everywhere she went every day of her life, exchanging the humiliation for guilt and back again.
She died from asphyxiation, coughing up blood from secrets she kept trying to burn away instead of allowing herself the kind of nervous breakdown she was entitled to, but only white girls could afford.
She died from being responsible, because she was the last rung on the ladder and there was no one under her she could dump on.
The strong black woman is dead.
She died from being a mother at 15 and a grandmother at 30 and an ancestor at 45.
She died from being dragged down and sat upon by un-evolved women posing as sisters and friends.
She died from tolerating Mr. Pitiful, just to have a man around the house.
She died from sacrificing herself for everybody and everything when what she really wanted to do was be a singer, a dancer, or some magnificent other.
She died from lies of omission because she didn't want to bring the black man down.
She died from tributes from her counterparts who should have been matching her efforts instead of showering her with dead words and empty songs.
She died from myths that would not allow her to show weakness without being chastised by the lazy and hazy.
She died from hiding her real feelings until they became hard and bitter enough to invade her womb and breasts like angry tumors.
She died from always lifting something from heavy boxes to refrigerators all by herself.
The strong black woman is dead.
She died from never being enough of what men wanted, or being too much for the men she wanted.
She died from being too black and died again for not being black enough.
She died from being misinformed about her mind, her body & the extent of her royal capabilities.
She died from knees pressed too close together because respect was never part of the foreplay that was being shoved at her.
She died from loneliness in birthing rooms and aloneness in abortion centers.
She died in bathrooms with her veins busting open with self-hatred and neglect.
And sometimes when she refused to die, when she just refused to give in she was killed by the lethal images of blond hair, blue eyes and flat butts.
Sometimes, she was stomped to death by racism & sexism, executed by hi-tech ignorance while she carried the family in her belly, the community on her head, and the race on her back!
The strong black woman is dead!
Or is she? No she isn't, it was just a thought.
Author Unknown
Pass it on to all the strong black women you know....and the men who know them better I just did...'
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Taking It A Step Further
Taking it a step further….takes a motivational force….
Taking it a step further…..
Is the difference between self-destruction or a positive course.
Taking it a step further…takes inner strength, courage and faith.
Taking it a step further….
Is to continue not knowing, those who love you and those who hate.
Taking it a step further….is to move on and on
Taking it a step further….
Is to create a path, build a bridge, or make a road.
When the highway’s gone.
Taking it a step further….is planting your feet firmly.
Keeping your eyes on higher ground.
Taking it a step further….
Is to do the best no matter what the test,
Or who is around.
Taking it a step further….is a walk of success.
Carrying a role models load.
Taking it a step further….
Should become a part of your foundation.
A part of your growth and accomplishments, a part of your soul.
Copyright 2009
Author Nanette M. Buchanan
Quiet Times
Taking it a step further…..
Is the difference between self-destruction or a positive course.
Taking it a step further…takes inner strength, courage and faith.
Taking it a step further….
Is to continue not knowing, those who love you and those who hate.
Taking it a step further….is to move on and on
Taking it a step further….
Is to create a path, build a bridge, or make a road.
When the highway’s gone.
Taking it a step further….is planting your feet firmly.
Keeping your eyes on higher ground.
Taking it a step further….
Is to do the best no matter what the test,
Or who is around.
Taking it a step further….is a walk of success.
Carrying a role models load.
Taking it a step further….
Should become a part of your foundation.
A part of your growth and accomplishments, a part of your soul.
Copyright 2009
Author Nanette M. Buchanan
Quiet Times
Monday, October 5, 2009
BRUISED LOVE- AVAILABLE TODAY
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
The Single Mothers Athem - Golden Promises
Golden Promises
I thank God daily for I am the parent of a loving daughter and son.
I’ve been blessed with good friends, balanced spiritually and able to handle
the responsibility made for two and abandoned by one.
The promise made between you and I made be determined to complete the task
I gave them the love you failed to give which made them strong and steadfast.
I instilled in them the importance of values, morals and respect
And during your rare visits they knew nothing about your woes,
empty promises and continuous neglect
Although your small donations touched the edges of their needs,
They managed to get the best education and they were taught the downfalls of lies and greed.
They grew in a loving environment sharing, caring and experiencing a well-rounded life.
They learned that a house is filled with love, even when the father and mother
are no longer husband and wife.
I thought of these things today because the road has been long.
And now that they are on their way, I know I didn’t lead them wrong.
They walk with their heads held high, no need to be embarrassed or depressed.
They are responsible young adults willing to strive always for the best.
I remember the promises made when we planned for two. I remember the dismay when at times, alone, I didn’t know what to do.
I just want you to understand and recognize, I kept my promise to this very day.
I love being a mother, guardian and provider even though you were able to walk away.
This poem is not to ridicule or gripe, after all that time has passed.
It’s just to touch the memories and promises even down to your last.
You promised to stay in their lives although you lost your place in mine.
You promised you would be their “Dad” until the end of time.
Graduations, awards, birthdays and holidays; I think that covers a few.
A few of those occasions they looked for “Dad” and never found you.
Eventually the questions stopped and the anger built inside.
I could only hold them closer, together we cried.
I cried because of your broken promises. I didn’t think you could step that low.
They cried because they realized that the “Dad” they once knew had let them go.
Today will become another memory. I talked to them about promises as they search for love, unity and mates for their souls.
I want them to believe in their loved ones promises;
for those promises are worth their weight in gold.
Thoughts & Reflections Copyright 2000
I thank God daily for I am the parent of a loving daughter and son.
I’ve been blessed with good friends, balanced spiritually and able to handle
the responsibility made for two and abandoned by one.
The promise made between you and I made be determined to complete the task
I gave them the love you failed to give which made them strong and steadfast.
I instilled in them the importance of values, morals and respect
And during your rare visits they knew nothing about your woes,
empty promises and continuous neglect
Although your small donations touched the edges of their needs,
They managed to get the best education and they were taught the downfalls of lies and greed.
They grew in a loving environment sharing, caring and experiencing a well-rounded life.
They learned that a house is filled with love, even when the father and mother
are no longer husband and wife.
I thought of these things today because the road has been long.
And now that they are on their way, I know I didn’t lead them wrong.
They walk with their heads held high, no need to be embarrassed or depressed.
They are responsible young adults willing to strive always for the best.
I remember the promises made when we planned for two. I remember the dismay when at times, alone, I didn’t know what to do.
I just want you to understand and recognize, I kept my promise to this very day.
I love being a mother, guardian and provider even though you were able to walk away.
This poem is not to ridicule or gripe, after all that time has passed.
It’s just to touch the memories and promises even down to your last.
You promised to stay in their lives although you lost your place in mine.
You promised you would be their “Dad” until the end of time.
Graduations, awards, birthdays and holidays; I think that covers a few.
A few of those occasions they looked for “Dad” and never found you.
Eventually the questions stopped and the anger built inside.
I could only hold them closer, together we cried.
I cried because of your broken promises. I didn’t think you could step that low.
They cried because they realized that the “Dad” they once knew had let them go.
Today will become another memory. I talked to them about promises as they search for love, unity and mates for their souls.
I want them to believe in their loved ones promises;
for those promises are worth their weight in gold.
Thoughts & Reflections Copyright 2000
Monday, August 24, 2009
Exerpt - Bruised Love- Coming This Fall
Ms. Smith....
.. ..
Look, there out the window, isn’t that Ms. Smith?....
She’s so well dressed; her beauty truly a gift.....
You say those children all belong to her....
Oh what a blessing to a proud husband, I’m sure.....
What, no husband?....
One, two, three boys and the girl carrying the bags,....
My, my, what happened on the path she chose?....
She had blossomed to be a rose.....
No, no don’t say that, her life is a common fad…....
Wait one minute that limp she never had!....
You say she took to alcohol and drugs,....
What you say the men in her life were common thugs?....
Ms. Smith had potential, she had a jump on many, a clean educated start....
Yes, you are right she had a giving heart.....
I guess she gave her love real easy, looked for love in the wrong place.....
Wait I didn’t hear you. You said her last mate beat her in the face?....
She’s a victim of abuse and still she goes on.....
To see her from this window, one would think nothing was wrong....
The problems women encounter, one never knows.....
To live daily as a victim diminishes one’s goals.....
Is she moving forward, what about her self-esteem?....
It’s good she’s still working, but it’s not exactly what I mean.....
She’s lost a part of her character with each violent act or blow, ....
without character and self-esteem, how far will she go?....
I pray Ms. Smith won’t surrender to the negatives she has seen.....
I pray Ms. Smith remains strong to walking a path that is clean. ....
It is easy to make excuses or hang her head low, ....
listening to the criticism and ridicule as she goes....
My prayers go with her for indeed she needs spiritual strength.....
A comfort to her soul will see her the length.....
Oh, look she’s waving at us, she noticed our stare.....
“Hey, Ms. Smith, how are you?” I’m not just asking; I care! ....
.. ..
©Copyright 2000 “Thoughts” by Nanette M. Buchanan
....................
Chapter 1....
.. ..
Cassandra smiled and waved at her mother’s neighbor and friend, Madeline Dearling. Most thought Mattie was nosey but not Cassandra. She was practically raised by Ms. Dearling, who she affectionately called “Ma’ Dear”, and she was pleased to see her. She hadn’t seen Ma’ Dear in what seemed like a lifetime. Ms. Dearling had been a mother for all of the children in the neighborhood when Cassandra was young. She still sat daily perched in her rocker on her porch across the street from the house where Cassandra once lived. There would be plenty of time to update Ma’ Dear on how her world had changed since she moved from Grape Street. ....
The neighborhood looked so different. The houses seemed smaller than she remembered, and she could tell from the residents sitting on the porches her childhood friends no longer lived next door. As she passed the last two vacant lots, she spotted 231 Grape Street, her three boys ran ahead of her. Cassandra had not been home in more than five years.....
She sat her bags on the porch and helped her five year old Cassie up the stairs with her bag. Kyle, Christopher and Taylor stood on the porch waiting for directions from their mother before they moved any further. Cassandra rang the bell and smoothed her blouse and skirt waiting for the door to open. She reached for Kyle to stand next to her. Christopher and Taylor fell in line. The door opened slowly and the family filed in with their bags in hand. ....
“Sssh, c’mon in girl, your mother is trying to rest. It’s been a rough afternoon for her. I just gave her the medicine the doctor told us would help. Whew, y’all sure done grew. Look at y’all. Sandra, they sure are beautiful girl and you looking good too.”....
“Thank you, Aunt Laura, where should we put these bags?”....
Laura, a well kept woman for the age of sixty, led them into the kitchen where they could see and smell the dinner that was being prepared. It was close to five o’clock and the heat of the day was beginning to subside. The ceiling fan was on low circulating the smell of a good meal and scented candles. Mary’s sister had been caring for her off and on for months since her stroke but Laura called Cassandra to say that she couldn’t do it all herself. Mary’s objection to calling her daughter went unheard once she told her family the doctor said her condition was deteriorating. Cassandra agreed that her mother was more than a handful for her aunt who had her own ailments from time to time. She wasn’t sure what the arrangements would be between herself and her mother, but she was there to help where she could. ....
“Where’s your overnight bags, your suitcases and stuff? Cassie, come give me a hug baby.”....
“I stopped at the hotel first. You know how Mama is; I didn’t know what she would say about us staying.”....
Cassie and Taylor stood close to their mother’s leg. Kyle and Christopher had warmed up to their Aunt giving her a hug and kiss hello and returning to Cassandra’s side. Laura stretched her arms outward toward Cassie and reached for a kitchen chair to sit in.....
“Girl, you better give me a kiss, you too boy.” Taylor smiled shyly as he gave in giving his great Aunt a kiss. It was returned with a loving hug. “They sure have grown,” Laura repeated her thoughts aloud. “Sandra your mother can’t say nothing; she needs you as much as she needs me. Now she’ll tell us both something different, but you’ll see. Child, she ain’t doing well at all. We’re all she’s got, so as I see it, she’s stuck. I can’t do everything for her all day long. Thank you for stopping by the store, its things like that your Uncle Earl and I have been doing for weeks. Someone has to be here with her and the errands still need to be run. I gave up my apartment in the seniors building last month. I told them to put me on the list to return after I tended to my sister. She don’t even know it. I believe she still thinks I just stop by. I had your Uncle Earl bring all my things over. My furniture and things are in storage. The superintendent of the building said it would be fine to keep it with a few other things I had packed away. I don’t know why I keep so much of that mess. Earl complains about it all the time. He said I shouldn’t trust them cause, I ain’t staying there. Earl don’t know them as well as I do. Yes, dealing with Mary and Earl, whew, it’s been quite a job for me.”....
Cassandra kept her laughter to herself gave her aunt a small smile. Her Uncle Earl was the youngest of the three, and he proved it often. Laura being the eldest and mediator for the family was the rational one. Sandra loved to hear her talk and complain about what they had or had not done. Earl called it rattling.....
“Kyle, y’all go out back and play, don’t go out front either. Cassie you mind Kyle now.”....
“Sandra they sure have grown, how old are they now.”....
“Kyle is eleven, Chris is nine, Taylor is seven and Cassie is five. They keep me busy.”....
Cassandra looked around her aunt scanning the kitchen. She began reminiscing about the times her mother would be cooking while her father read the paper at the kitchen table. Cassandra and her father had an inseparable relationship and Mary never found a place in her daughter’s heart after his death. Steven Smith died when Cassandra was sixteen. Cassandra felt her mother treated him badly in his final days, and she never forgot or forgave her for his pain. Mary tried to rekindle a relationship with Cassandra, but it wasn’t the same without her father. Mary hadn’t spent much time mothering Cassandra. Laura and Ma’ Dear had. If she needed love in a motherly way, she looked for them to comfort her. She tried to fill the void for her father by dating, often seeking to replace her missed love in all the wrong places. Cassandra mourned until she met Trevor Black her first and only love. ....
Trevor and Cassandra spent every free moment with each other and Mary saw her only child slip into what became an everlasting tug of war. Mary tried to stop Cassandra from seeing Trevor. Cassandra would go out of her way to be with him. Trevor put on the air of a proper young man but Mary, Laura, and Ma’ Dear agreed Trevor was never good enough for Cassandra. Trevor was her senior prom date and Cassandra got pregnant with Kyle shortly after. The pregnancy and her relationship with Trevor was enough for Mary Smith to push her only daughter away telling her she would get enough of him if she had to depend on him. ....
Cassandra left the only home she knew at nineteen. Trevor never kept a job, money or a roof over their head but Cassandra fell for his smooth talking and sweet loving as often as he gave it. That was twelve years and four children ago. Trevor still didn’t have a permanent job and slept between his babies mothers. Cassandra saw him once or twice a month. ....
Cassandra kept in touch with her Aunt Laura and Ma’ Dear by phone and would send them pictures and gifts on the holidays. She just couldn’t bring herself to visit her mother. Cassandra couldn’t stand the “I told you so” speech. When her aunt called, Cassandra felt the guilt and shame hit her all at once. She packed their bags for what she thought would be only a week or two. Now she knew different. ....
“I bet they do keep you busy. How are you going to get your things? You’re not staying in the hotel.”....
“Aunt Laura, I need to talk with my mother. I don’t want the kids feeling uncomfortable and with her being sick I don’t want them getting on her nerves, or on yours, for that matter.”....
Laura got up to check the pots on the stove and peeked out the back door at the children.....
“Pass me that box of rice there girl. Listen, you can talk with your mother all you want. There’s no need for you to waste your money on no hotel. There’s plenty of bed space here. The boys can have the guest room; you and Cassie take your old room. I’ll sleep in the den. We’ll all be fine. As for your children keeping up noise, we need some life in this house. Maybe that’s what’s killing her.”....
“Killing her, Aunt Laura is she dying?” Cassandra had put off coming to visit for weeks. She didn’t know how sick her mother was.....
“Go talk to your mother. You tell me. I think she’s giving up. Did you have to take a leave from work?”....
“Uh, uh… that’s another problem. I’m not working right now. I’m on unemployment.”....
“What happened to your job, how are you and those kids making it on unemployment?”....
“Well it just kicked in last week. I was looking into a job program for cosmetology. They’ll pay me as long as I go to get the certification. I dropped everything to come when you called so I guess I’ll have to check into it here.”....
“Well it’s not like you moved out of the state Sandra, if they offered it on your side of Philadelphia it’s on this side too. Why did you leave the job you had?”....
Cassandra had no intention on telling her aunt how her last day on her “good paying” job went. She had been a bank teller for five years and Trevor had given her major on the job drama at least twice a month for the past two years. His last escapade was her last day at work. Cassandra could hear her girlfriend Trina saying, “Leave that nigga alone before you lose everything you worked so hard for.”....
She was right, the job was first, four months later it was the apartment. Cassandra had to go to a hearing to get cleared to collect unemployment, and she had just received her first check. The drama at the bank didn’t stop Trevor from begging at her door a week later for her attention, and eventually he was in her bed giving her attention. Trina was disgusted when Cassandra used the excuse, “he’s the kid’s father” or “we started out just talking”. ....
Cassandra lived in West Philadelphia in an apartment Trina offered to share with her and the children. The apartment was in a building she and her mother owned. It worked out perfect for the two young women. Trina was good company and a good babysitter for Cassandra, whenever she needed her. Her plans were to start the cosmetology class, graduate and start her own health care hair and body spa. Trina and her mother supported her dreams fully. ....
The distance between Cassandra and her mother made it easier for Cassandra to live in West Philadelphia. Where she lived was never a priority on her list and Mary wasn't interested in Cassandra’s lifestyle or how she provided for her children. They spoke on the phone because it was a safe way to handle their relationship. The children had not seen their grandmother in two years, which was the year Kyle graduated from the fifth grade. ....
Laura opened the refrigerator and took out the bowl of tossed salad and the salad dressing. Cassandra watched as her aunt set the table for their dinner to be served.....
“Aunt Laura, do you think my mother wants me here? I mean, I know what you and I think but, what about her feelings?”....
“If you’re waiting for her to say, 'Sandra, I need your help’, that ain’t gonna happen. Listen, your mother is sick. I don’t know how long you and I can keep her comfortable or care for her but if we can, let’s do what we need to do. Don’t worry about what she’ll say. What will you say later if you don’t do anything?”....
“Has Uncle Earl seen her, since she’s been this sick?”....
“No, he was here to visit her two weeks ago. She was still sitting up during the day then. Since she’s been in the bed he calls her every day. She spoiled him rotten when we were kids and that brother of ours is still the baby. He’s scared to death of her dying when he’s around.”....
Cassandra went to the back door and watched her children playing in the yard. Tears formed in her eyes. She realized she had a task ahead of her; a sick mother, four children, no job and the love for a man who had no clue.
BRUISED LOVE-----COMING THIS FALL
visit www.ipendesigns.com for details
.. ..
Look, there out the window, isn’t that Ms. Smith?....
She’s so well dressed; her beauty truly a gift.....
You say those children all belong to her....
Oh what a blessing to a proud husband, I’m sure.....
What, no husband?....
One, two, three boys and the girl carrying the bags,....
My, my, what happened on the path she chose?....
She had blossomed to be a rose.....
No, no don’t say that, her life is a common fad…....
Wait one minute that limp she never had!....
You say she took to alcohol and drugs,....
What you say the men in her life were common thugs?....
Ms. Smith had potential, she had a jump on many, a clean educated start....
Yes, you are right she had a giving heart.....
I guess she gave her love real easy, looked for love in the wrong place.....
Wait I didn’t hear you. You said her last mate beat her in the face?....
She’s a victim of abuse and still she goes on.....
To see her from this window, one would think nothing was wrong....
The problems women encounter, one never knows.....
To live daily as a victim diminishes one’s goals.....
Is she moving forward, what about her self-esteem?....
It’s good she’s still working, but it’s not exactly what I mean.....
She’s lost a part of her character with each violent act or blow, ....
without character and self-esteem, how far will she go?....
I pray Ms. Smith won’t surrender to the negatives she has seen.....
I pray Ms. Smith remains strong to walking a path that is clean. ....
It is easy to make excuses or hang her head low, ....
listening to the criticism and ridicule as she goes....
My prayers go with her for indeed she needs spiritual strength.....
A comfort to her soul will see her the length.....
Oh, look she’s waving at us, she noticed our stare.....
“Hey, Ms. Smith, how are you?” I’m not just asking; I care! ....
.. ..
©Copyright 2000 “Thoughts” by Nanette M. Buchanan
....................
Chapter 1....
.. ..
Cassandra smiled and waved at her mother’s neighbor and friend, Madeline Dearling. Most thought Mattie was nosey but not Cassandra. She was practically raised by Ms. Dearling, who she affectionately called “Ma’ Dear”, and she was pleased to see her. She hadn’t seen Ma’ Dear in what seemed like a lifetime. Ms. Dearling had been a mother for all of the children in the neighborhood when Cassandra was young. She still sat daily perched in her rocker on her porch across the street from the house where Cassandra once lived. There would be plenty of time to update Ma’ Dear on how her world had changed since she moved from Grape Street. ....
The neighborhood looked so different. The houses seemed smaller than she remembered, and she could tell from the residents sitting on the porches her childhood friends no longer lived next door. As she passed the last two vacant lots, she spotted 231 Grape Street, her three boys ran ahead of her. Cassandra had not been home in more than five years.....
She sat her bags on the porch and helped her five year old Cassie up the stairs with her bag. Kyle, Christopher and Taylor stood on the porch waiting for directions from their mother before they moved any further. Cassandra rang the bell and smoothed her blouse and skirt waiting for the door to open. She reached for Kyle to stand next to her. Christopher and Taylor fell in line. The door opened slowly and the family filed in with their bags in hand. ....
“Sssh, c’mon in girl, your mother is trying to rest. It’s been a rough afternoon for her. I just gave her the medicine the doctor told us would help. Whew, y’all sure done grew. Look at y’all. Sandra, they sure are beautiful girl and you looking good too.”....
“Thank you, Aunt Laura, where should we put these bags?”....
Laura, a well kept woman for the age of sixty, led them into the kitchen where they could see and smell the dinner that was being prepared. It was close to five o’clock and the heat of the day was beginning to subside. The ceiling fan was on low circulating the smell of a good meal and scented candles. Mary’s sister had been caring for her off and on for months since her stroke but Laura called Cassandra to say that she couldn’t do it all herself. Mary’s objection to calling her daughter went unheard once she told her family the doctor said her condition was deteriorating. Cassandra agreed that her mother was more than a handful for her aunt who had her own ailments from time to time. She wasn’t sure what the arrangements would be between herself and her mother, but she was there to help where she could. ....
“Where’s your overnight bags, your suitcases and stuff? Cassie, come give me a hug baby.”....
“I stopped at the hotel first. You know how Mama is; I didn’t know what she would say about us staying.”....
Cassie and Taylor stood close to their mother’s leg. Kyle and Christopher had warmed up to their Aunt giving her a hug and kiss hello and returning to Cassandra’s side. Laura stretched her arms outward toward Cassie and reached for a kitchen chair to sit in.....
“Girl, you better give me a kiss, you too boy.” Taylor smiled shyly as he gave in giving his great Aunt a kiss. It was returned with a loving hug. “They sure have grown,” Laura repeated her thoughts aloud. “Sandra your mother can’t say nothing; she needs you as much as she needs me. Now she’ll tell us both something different, but you’ll see. Child, she ain’t doing well at all. We’re all she’s got, so as I see it, she’s stuck. I can’t do everything for her all day long. Thank you for stopping by the store, its things like that your Uncle Earl and I have been doing for weeks. Someone has to be here with her and the errands still need to be run. I gave up my apartment in the seniors building last month. I told them to put me on the list to return after I tended to my sister. She don’t even know it. I believe she still thinks I just stop by. I had your Uncle Earl bring all my things over. My furniture and things are in storage. The superintendent of the building said it would be fine to keep it with a few other things I had packed away. I don’t know why I keep so much of that mess. Earl complains about it all the time. He said I shouldn’t trust them cause, I ain’t staying there. Earl don’t know them as well as I do. Yes, dealing with Mary and Earl, whew, it’s been quite a job for me.”....
Cassandra kept her laughter to herself gave her aunt a small smile. Her Uncle Earl was the youngest of the three, and he proved it often. Laura being the eldest and mediator for the family was the rational one. Sandra loved to hear her talk and complain about what they had or had not done. Earl called it rattling.....
“Kyle, y’all go out back and play, don’t go out front either. Cassie you mind Kyle now.”....
“Sandra they sure have grown, how old are they now.”....
“Kyle is eleven, Chris is nine, Taylor is seven and Cassie is five. They keep me busy.”....
Cassandra looked around her aunt scanning the kitchen. She began reminiscing about the times her mother would be cooking while her father read the paper at the kitchen table. Cassandra and her father had an inseparable relationship and Mary never found a place in her daughter’s heart after his death. Steven Smith died when Cassandra was sixteen. Cassandra felt her mother treated him badly in his final days, and she never forgot or forgave her for his pain. Mary tried to rekindle a relationship with Cassandra, but it wasn’t the same without her father. Mary hadn’t spent much time mothering Cassandra. Laura and Ma’ Dear had. If she needed love in a motherly way, she looked for them to comfort her. She tried to fill the void for her father by dating, often seeking to replace her missed love in all the wrong places. Cassandra mourned until she met Trevor Black her first and only love. ....
Trevor and Cassandra spent every free moment with each other and Mary saw her only child slip into what became an everlasting tug of war. Mary tried to stop Cassandra from seeing Trevor. Cassandra would go out of her way to be with him. Trevor put on the air of a proper young man but Mary, Laura, and Ma’ Dear agreed Trevor was never good enough for Cassandra. Trevor was her senior prom date and Cassandra got pregnant with Kyle shortly after. The pregnancy and her relationship with Trevor was enough for Mary Smith to push her only daughter away telling her she would get enough of him if she had to depend on him. ....
Cassandra left the only home she knew at nineteen. Trevor never kept a job, money or a roof over their head but Cassandra fell for his smooth talking and sweet loving as often as he gave it. That was twelve years and four children ago. Trevor still didn’t have a permanent job and slept between his babies mothers. Cassandra saw him once or twice a month. ....
Cassandra kept in touch with her Aunt Laura and Ma’ Dear by phone and would send them pictures and gifts on the holidays. She just couldn’t bring herself to visit her mother. Cassandra couldn’t stand the “I told you so” speech. When her aunt called, Cassandra felt the guilt and shame hit her all at once. She packed their bags for what she thought would be only a week or two. Now she knew different. ....
“I bet they do keep you busy. How are you going to get your things? You’re not staying in the hotel.”....
“Aunt Laura, I need to talk with my mother. I don’t want the kids feeling uncomfortable and with her being sick I don’t want them getting on her nerves, or on yours, for that matter.”....
Laura got up to check the pots on the stove and peeked out the back door at the children.....
“Pass me that box of rice there girl. Listen, you can talk with your mother all you want. There’s no need for you to waste your money on no hotel. There’s plenty of bed space here. The boys can have the guest room; you and Cassie take your old room. I’ll sleep in the den. We’ll all be fine. As for your children keeping up noise, we need some life in this house. Maybe that’s what’s killing her.”....
“Killing her, Aunt Laura is she dying?” Cassandra had put off coming to visit for weeks. She didn’t know how sick her mother was.....
“Go talk to your mother. You tell me. I think she’s giving up. Did you have to take a leave from work?”....
“Uh, uh… that’s another problem. I’m not working right now. I’m on unemployment.”....
“What happened to your job, how are you and those kids making it on unemployment?”....
“Well it just kicked in last week. I was looking into a job program for cosmetology. They’ll pay me as long as I go to get the certification. I dropped everything to come when you called so I guess I’ll have to check into it here.”....
“Well it’s not like you moved out of the state Sandra, if they offered it on your side of Philadelphia it’s on this side too. Why did you leave the job you had?”....
Cassandra had no intention on telling her aunt how her last day on her “good paying” job went. She had been a bank teller for five years and Trevor had given her major on the job drama at least twice a month for the past two years. His last escapade was her last day at work. Cassandra could hear her girlfriend Trina saying, “Leave that nigga alone before you lose everything you worked so hard for.”....
She was right, the job was first, four months later it was the apartment. Cassandra had to go to a hearing to get cleared to collect unemployment, and she had just received her first check. The drama at the bank didn’t stop Trevor from begging at her door a week later for her attention, and eventually he was in her bed giving her attention. Trina was disgusted when Cassandra used the excuse, “he’s the kid’s father” or “we started out just talking”. ....
Cassandra lived in West Philadelphia in an apartment Trina offered to share with her and the children. The apartment was in a building she and her mother owned. It worked out perfect for the two young women. Trina was good company and a good babysitter for Cassandra, whenever she needed her. Her plans were to start the cosmetology class, graduate and start her own health care hair and body spa. Trina and her mother supported her dreams fully. ....
The distance between Cassandra and her mother made it easier for Cassandra to live in West Philadelphia. Where she lived was never a priority on her list and Mary wasn't interested in Cassandra’s lifestyle or how she provided for her children. They spoke on the phone because it was a safe way to handle their relationship. The children had not seen their grandmother in two years, which was the year Kyle graduated from the fifth grade. ....
Laura opened the refrigerator and took out the bowl of tossed salad and the salad dressing. Cassandra watched as her aunt set the table for their dinner to be served.....
“Aunt Laura, do you think my mother wants me here? I mean, I know what you and I think but, what about her feelings?”....
“If you’re waiting for her to say, 'Sandra, I need your help’, that ain’t gonna happen. Listen, your mother is sick. I don’t know how long you and I can keep her comfortable or care for her but if we can, let’s do what we need to do. Don’t worry about what she’ll say. What will you say later if you don’t do anything?”....
“Has Uncle Earl seen her, since she’s been this sick?”....
“No, he was here to visit her two weeks ago. She was still sitting up during the day then. Since she’s been in the bed he calls her every day. She spoiled him rotten when we were kids and that brother of ours is still the baby. He’s scared to death of her dying when he’s around.”....
Cassandra went to the back door and watched her children playing in the yard. Tears formed in her eyes. She realized she had a task ahead of her; a sick mother, four children, no job and the love for a man who had no clue.
BRUISED LOVE-----COMING THIS FALL
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