So... I got a lot going on...
My father has prostate cancer.
My brother is having his first child.
(My first niece or nephew!!!!)
My son just lost his virginity.
All within the last few weeks.
But where and how?
I did a reading on myself and it told me to take charge of the situation and write. I'm not really sure what to say so I'm just going to let it flow.
Finding the blessing in the situation.
Um, well it's obviously a profound time for me in my life. I'm observing the maiden, mother and crone archetype play out in the men in my life. 3 out 4 of the most important men in my life. All going through an important part of their lives.
My father is close to retirement. He's been working with his hands since he was 16. My dad was the kind of man who'd work close to 60 hours a week for his job, but more for himself and really not mind. He never like to stay still. He didn't like taking days off. He loves to work.
I call him the hardest working man I know.
Once when I was in high school, I stayed home from school because I was "sick". I was just having one of those days and I wanted to stay home. My parents didn't feel like arguing with me that morning and I got my way. Around 11 o'clock in the afternoon, the garage door started going up. I had to hurry up and jump in the bed and act like I was sleeping when I'd really been downstairs watching HBO.
Daddy didn't say anything to me when he came in, so I figured he bought my "sickness".
Around 1pm I decided to get up and check on things.
I opened my door to walk into the hall when I bumped into the scariest creature I'd ever seen in my life.
It was my dad.
My dad had just been released from the hospital. His face was slathered in protective and antibiotic-type grease. My dad didn't have any eyebrows and his mustache was gone. The tip of his nose was a red as any stop sign and still blistering. His trademark beard and goatee gone. His lips blurry with blood.
He chuckled (as usual) and explained that it was his fault and that it was alright.
The hell that meant at that moment was beyond me because all I could see was that my daddy's handsome face was blown off.
He works for a natural gas company. He's the guy you see when your pilot light goes out on your furnace. He comes in when you smell gas in your house. He's even the guy that's called when there's a fire and the fire chief needs a report on whether the gas is effected.
I learned later that he'd gone on a job and failed to use the gas sensor thing and gone in to re-light the furnace. The furnace went boom and so did his face.
It could've been worse. Really. I could've lost my father that day.
That thought hit me the hardest.
And the crazy part is... he wanted to go back to work the next day!!!
My dad was born and raised in Pittsburgh, PA during the 50's. Daddy was the second oldest of 7. His father was a much older man by the time my dad was born and had already lived a remarkable life.
My grandfather came north from Talledaga, AL to Pittsburgh, PA after the war. He was promised a better life up there. He died in 1961.
My grandma had the full responsibility to now raise 7 young children. By the time my father and his oldest brother could see over the counter, they were working to help out the family.
Daddy said they moved at least once a year during his youth. Sometimes right across the street.
He grew up in Northview Heights. Times were hard there. He lived in a housing project. You know the ones that you hear about on documentaries like The Pruitt-Igoe Myth. The ones that existed in every metropolitan city. The ones where a lot of blacks were "allowed" to live in, but they weren't "allowed" to be solid families in.
You know because no men were alowed to live in the actual homes.
They were actually forbidden.
How crazy is that?
Could you imagine your mom and dad marrying each other and having 3, 4, 5 kids? (Remember, this is the 50's.) And could you imagine them coming up from another state trying for a new (read: better) life only to be told that your family could no longer live together? That your parents had to separate and be managed by outsiders? That you'd lose your home if they found your father in your house? Could you imagine having to always remember telling these outsiders how you haven't seen or heard from your father? Could you imagine hiding his things when they came?
My grandma was a champion. (I love you Grandma!) She raised her children to take what they had and make better out of it.
My daddy did it best. He met my mom in 1975, they married in 1976 and are celebrating their 39th wedding anniversary this upcoming June. I came 3 years later and then my big head brother came 2 years after that.
As an adult, I don't think I know my dad as well as I want to. As a little girl I remember doing some amazing things with my father. The yearly trip to Kennywood Park. (God, I miss that place.) I was able to be brave because both my mom and dad were there to cheer me on.
My dad loved to walk around in those open vests that were so cool in the 80's to show off his muscular chest.
We used to go swimming in Highland Park public swimming pool and the city pool on the northside.
I also remember Friday Night Book-It parties at Pizza Hut and Saturday night roller skating get-togethers at Ardmore Roller Rink.
I remember Thursday night gatherings in front of the tv to watch the Cosby show and when I got older, A Different World.
My dad was a novice videographer. He taped everything from our baseball games to our graduations all the way to my brothers wedding this year.
Unfortunately, my father was the silent type.
You only knew if he was mad. Otherwise, he'd dissapear into his room after dinner and I wouldn't see him until the morning when he took me and my brother to the Linden Before-School Program.
But my father has always been my hero.
Before my brother started going to school with me, I used to go to Miss Emma's house before and after school. Miss Emma was my longtime babysitter. She lived on the 'Hill where my father worked. He'd drop me off in the mornings and pick me up from there after work. A bus would come and get me from her house everyday to take me to school.
One day when I got in the car after my dad came to get me, I told him how I didn't like my bus driver. He asked me why. I told him how the bus driver used to make me run for the bus, but didn't do that to the other kids. I told him how unfair it was that no one else had to run and be laughed at. I told him how I would trip sometimes and how that made the kids laugh harder. I told him how the bus driver would let the kids roll down there windows to yell at me.
My dad didn't like that at all.
The following morning, the bus driver stopped directly in front of me. My daddy was standing next to me.
My dad tried to break that motherfucker's neck!!
Never had I been so proud. He was truly my hero and I never saw the bus driver again.
Ok, that's not true... I saw him for the rest of the month and it wasn't fun. And I have to admit that that was a scary time for me, but I knew that in the back of my mind my dad could probably beat up Mike Tyson, too.
My father just turned 60 this year.
Me and him always have this running joke about getting old. I've almost always called him my "poor daddy". Its always in gest, but its also in concern. I always wished my dad was cool enough to just chill.
He's been working so hard that his body is screaming at him. He suffers from high blood pressure, chronic leg syndrome and sleep apnea. He now has prostate cancer.
My mom says not to worry because it's an easy procedure to remove it and he has a good doctor....
Um... That's not easy at all.
But on a positive note, I was informed that I would officially be a Auntie!!!!!
Now that is some exciting news!!
This is my brother's very first child. My very own niece or nephew!!!!
My children are 12 and 15. My little people have turned into giants.
I'm so glad we're getting some new editions to the family. I hope I have the opportunity to love on and get to know my new little person.
My brother and I aren't so close.
We used to be.
He used to be my very best friend. I received nothing unless there was enough for my brother. My grandma used to tell me that I mothered the crap out of him when we were little.
We used to play board games for hours. We used to ride bikes, listen to music and create our very own Double Dare obstacle courses in the basement. We went on adventures with our mom to amazing museums and other kid-friendly places. Our favorite part was riding the PAT bus together and sitting in the middle where the bus used to bend and twirl around.
I was born in 1979 and Art was born in 1981. (I still consider myself an 80's baby.) We had a great childhood together.
For awhile there, he used to look up to me. I was older. I was wiser. Somewhere during that time, I think he got the impression that I was cool. That thought came crashing down on him once he got to middle school with me. That ruined his admiration of me.
We haven't been close since.
Being typical teenagers didn't help our relationship either.
We used to argue and wish each other dead a lot over the years. I was too emotional and he was too vengeful. My Scorpio Moon and his Scorpio Sun didn't see eye to eye.
At 17 I was out of the house and in college and by the time I returned in '99, I was with child.
He definitely couldn't relate to me and there was no way I could relate to him. His freedom used to piss me off. He seemed to take it for granted. That pushed us further apart.
I've gone on to have my daughter, marry twice, enter the military and relocate to Virginia Beach. And all without my brother in my life.
The occasional celebration, wedding or funeral brings us together, but life seems to keep us apart.
My husband and dearest friends know how much I wish we were closer, but it hasn't happened yet. Maybe this year...
Moving forward...... my son turned 15 this year.
He already looks and sounds like a man and now he's officially doing men things!!!
See, now someone please tell me what happened to my little boy??
My little "mayor of the town" is the social buterfly his mother used to be. He stands at 6 ft and still growing. He sounds like the AllState man on the commercial and he's just as handsome as he could be. (He's actually considered to be my twin!)
I knew that there'd be a day when he'd be grown and mature. I even knew there would be the day when he'd no longer be a virgin, but I'd never thought it would come so soon.
I have a good relationship with my son. We definitely don't see eye to eye on a lot of things, but I've always given him an opportunity to be himself and have given him an opportunity to discuss anything.
He's taught me a lot. In a lot of ways, he's saved my life. I think he knows how important he is to me and this world.
I remember when I first learned that I was having him.
I was 19, living in Winston-Salem, NC, and was going to Winston-Salem State University.
I'd been putting off going to the doctor's office for a physical and they had left a note with the TA. I went in that day expecting it to be a total waste of time. I walked out with child.
The nurse didn't even believe it at first. She came back in the room after I had gone out to give a urine sample and told me that I'd have "pee" again because test was faulty. The doctor overheard her and walked over to take a look and was like, "it's not faulty, she's pregnant."
I immediately told the "aunt" that lived down in Winston-Salem about my circumstance. She had 3 numbers for me. All of them were abortion clinics.
I thanked her and began calling.
The first place I called was extremely grim. Even the music in the background seemed dark and eerie. The second place was offering a sale that week!! All I had to do was bring in another young lady and we'd get to have one abortion for free!! ( My stomach cringes everytime I think of it.)
I couldn't make the third call.
My roommate Connie walked in then. I was so glad to see her smiling face. I told her, but I think she already knew. She suggested we go to her sisters house in the country. I agreed.
Connie's sister's house was huge. And although, under different circumstances, I would have loved to wonder through her amazing home and I ended up just sitting in the entrance hall with my head in my hands.
Just then Connie's niece came over to talk to me. She was maybe 4 or 5 at the time. She had a little green glow in the dark ring in her hand. She waited for me to look her directly in her eyes and she said "a child is a gift from God." She then handed me the ring and promptly walked away.
That was the moment that I knew that I was going to be a mommy.
He's turned out to be an awesome son. He's outgoing, thoughtful, loving, athletic, intelligent, witty and a bright shining star.
I got a lot of piece of mind after talking to his father about him losing his virginity. He had to remind me that he was created by 2 sexually motivated people and what he's doing is only natural. He reminded me that our son was a very balanced and wise young man as well. He told me that i should be proud that he even told me.
And I am, but...
It's just that.... I changed his diaper. I was the first person to hold him. I've gone to every doctor's appointment, game, school activity. I've kissed every boo boo and gave him most of all his spankings.
I've dressed and fed him his whole life and now he thinks he's grown.
What's a mother to do?
What's a sister to do?
What's a daughter to do?
I think I need a counselor to help me work somethings out.
I know that once I face my fears that I everything will be a little clearer.
Ya'll pray for me, K!!!