AND THEN MORNING CAME

It’s funny he only stopped crying when he realized that I was crying too. I just lay there in the stillness of the morning, and as I looked into his eyes, the tears flowed from mine. It was almost 5:00am, the time that I needed to be up by, to start my day. Yet, I was still trying to get back to sleep – since he woke us both at 2:30am. Probably the realization that there was no sleep on the horizon was the straw that broke the camel’s back for me. This morning, I just wanted to be like his father for once, - absent.

When my son awoke me at 2:30 as I hopped off the bed to get him a bottle I realized I could barely move my left foot. The pain was excruciating, but he needed to be fed anyway. That’s the other thing, I have worn my patience thin trying to do all that ‘everyone’ said to get his 20mth old behind to sleep through the night. Tried the bottle of water/dream feeding thingy, tried feeding him good and proper by 7:30pm, tried making his bottle with the water drawn from the soursop leaves, tried pretending I wasn’t in the room, but nothing worked. As I limped my way to the kitchen the pain was similar to the one I felt the morning after my C-section when I tried to walk. I did as they said then, kept walking anyway. Even in pain we don’t get a break.

By the time I fed him I figured he would go right back to sleep, but he wasn’t having it. So, I put on the tv. Another mother would have said, leave him let him cry, he is spoilt, probably they are right, but for a new mother like me, who is just trying to get back to dreamland, what exactly do I do? It was my experience that he would normally fall back asleep even with the tv on anyway, but not today.

Somehow it woke him up more, and he was out in all his glory. I pleaded with him to lie down, stay still, get back on the bed, as negotiating with him to stay in the crib didn’t work out either. The impasse went on for about 2 and a half hours until he started crying and throwing himself to every corner of the bed. It was then that I dragged my aching foot of the bed, slithered my way to turn on the light and plummeted to the bed while his incessant crying took on new vocals.

Feeling totally helpless, I looked him in his eyes and the tears flowed like the river Jordan. So many things were going through my mind, as I cried. Where was your father? Why couldn’t I just get one night off after a year and a half of raising a child by myself that I brought into this world with someone else? Why, after I told him that I didn’t want a baby anytime soon because I was about to start my masters, and did not want to have to manage the two, that I was in the exact predicament now that I was so clear on then? Why was he gone, when he is the one that said he wanted to be a parent, why didn’t he leave then when I told him that I was okay if he went to fill that void with someone else? Why did he leave me by the time our son was two months old to start a family with someone else? Why? Why? Why? 

 I just lay there, and I cried, and I cried and I cried. And then two things happened. I finally felt like I was being set  free. Motherhood has a way of taking your tears, a way of not even giving you time to deal with emotions that are right there, and wounds that are raw and open. At times it does not give you time to think, to feel, or hope.  And then,  the other thing that happened was surely what nothing prepared me for. My son started wiping the tears out of my eyes. At this point I started to sob. He lay there, and started to wipe each tear as it escaped from the corners and then he started giggling. Yep! He was giggling at me. It was almost as if he was saying ‘Girl what you crying about! Don’t you know we gonna be okay? Don’t you know that even though Daddy is gone, Imma be right here? Always? 

I just looked at him, with the love I had when I first laid eyes on him (considering that somewhere around 3:00am I was looking at him as if he was the neighbor’s property), and I started laughing too. I kissed him on his lips and he kissed me right back on mine. And suddenly it didn’t hurt anymore. I no longer felt tired, I was no longer concerned with the sleep that I had lost. I found  a joy at 5:00am that the world could not give. I felt a peace that I had been praying for months for. And just like that, I felt the hurt, the disappointment and the rejection make its timely departure from my soul. I felt better not because anything had changed, not because it meant his father would be back, but because someway, some how, my son reassured me that he would be different.

 Somehow I got a glimpse of his future and I saw a man that would not repeat this sins of his father, and would one day teach that very father, who hated his very father for abandoning him, a thing or two. And as I took comfort in that feeling, I limped my way off the bed again, and proceeded to get another bottle going. As he followed me to the kitchen, and I popped the bottle in his mouth he sauntered back to the bedroom. Finally he would go off to dreamland, and I could probably just steal about an hour’s sleep. I couldn’t be further from the truth. By the time the little angel burped he turned the bottle into a microphone and started singing to the top of his lungs.

Today is one year since I was arrested at the hands of the person closest to me. The past twelve months have been by far the most memorable of my life to date. In my mind, when I go back to the events of that day, all I see is the confusion and fear that surrounded me.

It was a day of firsts. My first time in police custody, my first time I could not walk freely and had a hand holding me. It was my first time that I had to have an escort to go to the bathroom, and the first time I could not close the bathroom door behind me to pee. The first time I had my house searched, and the first time I was officially given a prisoner id.

In the past year, I have had to find strength that I did not even know that I had, and most of the people who were standing with me, are no longer here.

At least four of my friends of ten-plus years, are no more. I never thought I would see the day when my friendship would become their option. Never thought that I would be at this place in my life and not have them by my side.

But, it's okay.

I have prayed in the past twelve months like I never have in my entire life. I have fasted like never before, and forgiven everyone who left me temporarily empty inside.

I have accepted that while this may not have been my just portion, it was necessary to go through this storm. I have embraced the joy of my own company and I am really in a better place and I thank God for that.

I also thank him for the friends who stayed. The ones who understood the true meaning of friendship and loved me through this ordeal. The ones who reminded me that I am a good person and not to let the shortcomings of others keep me from my mission. I thank him for the friendships formed and for the people who have granted me access to their lives despite questionable circumstances.

For years I have asked the Divine to give me his Wisdom, and if you ask me, in the last twelve months he has finally answered. I know who I am, I know whose I am, and a day does not go by in my life anymore where I am not in His presence.

If it took getting arrested to bring me to the place of humility that my life has taken on now, then I would do it again.

My life has forever been changed, and as I mark the first anniversary of this day, I keep reminding myself of the one thing, that the 'perpetrator' always used to say to me .....

"It gets better from here".

You are good enough

Happy New Year! Yes, I know we are in March, but this is my first post for 2012. I have no other excuse for such procrastination other than, I was in fear.

I started a blog 'hot and sweaty' as they say in my native language, but then decided, I could not do it anymore. Is it that I had run out of ideas to write? - No. Is it that it was not making my sexy six followers laugh? - No. Is it that my credit card was maxed out and I could not renew the subscription (considering it is FREE)? - No.

I decided all by myself that I was not good enough. What do I know? Why would people read? Why would they care? Would I possibly get more than 6 followers? Questions that popped into my big head that shot down my little ego.

So three months has passed and my blog has nothing show for itself. And that feeling is worse than not writing at all. But then I complain that I have no platform, am not doing anything to actively generate one. Then I complain that no one knows me and wonder like Alice how will I eventually get my book out?

I owe it to myself to try. I owe it to myself to dare, to dream to believe. Whatever I want out of my life for 2012, and beyond, the effort to achieve it has to be made by me.

Today, my friend looked at me with tears in her eyes as someone told her about trying her hand again at the thing 'she liked to fail". As I listened to her,tears came to my eyes too. I wondered how dare they tell a person with such promise as her such a hurtful thing? They did not have the last say in her life - she did! I thought about getting all Madea on the culprit, but then I stopped and realised I had done the same thing to myself.

From the moment I stopped writing I allowed my mind to tell me I was not good enough. It is okay to fail, what's not cool is not trying again. How will I perfect what I do not practice? How will will I learn if I do not burn?

The pain is not in what our conscience or others says to us. Damage starts when we accept.

A man after my own heart

Yesterday a man told me I was a woman after his own heart. Probably it stuck with me because no one had ever said that to me in my life before. Probably it stood out because I was so damn disapointed  that any sort of compassion was enough to get me out of the doldrums.

But simple as it was, his words were enough to put a blush on my face and a smile on my heart. The thing is that when he expressed this to me, he didn't even know my last name, but I believed he meant what he said. He couldn't have known the pain I was in , when I was still doing damage control. Even if he was just trying to say what he thought I wanted to hear, regardless of his agenda,  he was my angel of hope.

He served as a pleasant reminder that no matter what goes wrong in life, there are even more things that will be right and a smile is always a gesture away. To make someone smile, blush or cry takes concentrated effort with an ounce of intent and a serving of determination.

He made me realise that even though that situation didn't end yesterday, it did not mean that it did not have an expiry date. In life God doesn't always make sense, but we have to trust that at the right time he will make everything known to us.

He reiterated the power of reciprocity and generosity. Though we had recently met, he was the one making the effort to inititate contact everyday, and it was my turn to have a message waiting for him to pick up.

Though it was not his intention, a reality check came my way. The lesson of the disappointment  was that it was not about who didn't call/come or care, because he did.  Our conversations intrigued me, brought familiarity and laugter,  and he taught me 'don't use dem other jamaican fat to to fry mi". In english, that was his way of saying he was not like everybody else, and if for yesterday only, I'm glad that he wasn't.

Just thought I'd say thanks, from my heart to yours.

Battle of the Mind

There comes a time when having the last say is no longer important and the paradigm shifts from always wanting everything in life to be a war.

Maturity assumes position and we realise that every battle is not meant to be fought. There are battles we see afar off and there are the ones that will arise like a thief in the night.

From the way the story goes, in battle there are rivals, each with its own army. There is a commander in chief who decides which soldiers will be on the frontline, which will be prisoners of war, and when the battle is over, which ones will make it back to base.

Though there always seems to be the threat of danger, the commander in chief knows that he is nothing without his batallion so he cannot afford to defend every single threat, valid as it may seem.

So many times in our lives we wage war on things that are of no impact to our desired outcomes. Instead of identifying the real threat in the camp we play house with the troops. Because we've lost focus on the prize, we launch worthless attacks, depleting our strengths on a replica of the problem.

If we only liken our thoughts to that of a commander, we would know that in life, relationships and  friendships, we will lose comrades along the way.  Despite its form, casualties are inevitable, and there is always someone who we loved like a brother, who fought the good fight but succumbs to injuires.  Our responsibility is not to beg them to tarry on, or bear the burden of the wounded.

Rather, we help who we can, when we can, and accept that there are those in our lives who must be left behind. So what if it appears we are weak? Who cares if they tell others we surrendered?

When we know who we are, and whose we are, we learn no matter the army, the battle or the threat, the greatest victory comes when we can walk away from people and situations along our path while maintaining steady ground a still tongue.

For Kashaun from Aunty

My precious nephew, Happy birthday. You are my little angel and I miss you dearly. On days like today, I wish I could have been in the same country with you, to do all the aunty things, like hug u for about a half hour until your little cheeks were sore, and kiss you all over as you giggled with delight.

 I would get to take you to your favorite place today, and watch you blow out the candles on your birthday cake. Grandpa, grandma and  I spent your first birthday with you . Grandma was taking too long to cut you a slice from your cake, so you took your little hand made a fist and swooped in on it and then put it in your little mouth. You were quite a cute little mess. Though I cannot be with you today, know that there is no distance with love once it travels from the heart.

Always remember my love, I am a phonecall or a wall away, (since I discovered you are on fb now from the friend request you sent me). I saw your relationship status as 'it's complicated'. How so? You're just 8!

In the coming years I want to be your evidence that impossible is nothing, and you were born to do great things.

My eternal desire for your life would be to live and not just exist, and to make valuable contributions to the people and things that you find joy and believe in. May your spirit be meek, your heart pure and your intentions true.

Life awaits you my little one, so for now, do your part to enjoy the journey. I hope you have a super time at school today with Nathaniel and all your other friends.

Until I see you again, be good, and always remember aunty loves you dearly.

Hallowed Weaning

One of life's most challenging periods is when we realise someone's season in our lives is over. Somehow, the reason we woke up on mornings, is now the reason we can't sleep at nights. We are torn between the memories of the happier times versus the reality of who they have become. Their seeming perfect fit in our world has suddenly become a tight squeeze on our hearts.

As we do the post mortem on the friendship or relationship gone sour we see the signs we ignored and the symptoms we didn't treat. From the breach of confidentiality here, to the act of jealousy there, we chalked up the acts of indiscretion to human nature. Even as patterns of behaviour became habit we discarded them from our memory bank and ignorance prevailed.

Over the past two years, I had the challenge of saying goodbye to some friendships and relationships I coveted for a huge part of my life. What hurt the most is that I did not want to let them go, but had to because I knew where my life goals were headed. Because there was also a difference of opinion on intended paths we could not continue on. I was worried about being seen as feeling I was better than the others, so for years, I sacrificed myself and my spirituality at the expense of acceptance.

The reality is we can ignore that still small voice for so long. One day we open our eyes and come full circle with the people and situations hindering us from who we truly want to be. We know in our heart of hearts if we want better  we must let go of who or what makes us stop. In situations when I was not sure how to proceed, I always leaned on God and asked him that His will be done for my life, and if it was not His will to have that person there anymore, to help take them out of the equation for me.

I do not regret any alliance that I have made in my life even the ones where we parted ways. Some endings were abrupt, some were planned and some were not amicably done, but for every ending there was a new beginning.

My inner circle is now a reflection of who I truly am, and if asked what was the most valuable thing I gained along the way, it would be: the best feeling comes when you realise you are perfectly fine without the people you thought you needed.