Monday, January 9, 2012
Happy Birthday to us
I stand amazed that my daughter has been growing for seven years and has the height, vocabulary and beauty to prove it. Have I weathered seven years of single parenting and come out alive? I toss my short, sleek hair back and laugh. Yes, I certainly have. *At this point, my daughter would remind me that my hair doesn't move when I toss it, but I digress. I feel like Picasso as I step back and say that I created that young lady.
Times have changed. I have changed with them and even when it was at its bleakest last year, I pressed on. I had to and couldn't afford to crumble. I have seven-year-old eyes watching my every move to figure out what position she was to play. She played it, too.
When I returned from my nine days in the hospital at my mom's side, my daughter watched me renew myself as a domesticated and humbled parent. She also watched when I didn't eat my peas and made sure to fuss at me until I did. It's funny how the roles reverse and sometimes the adult becomes the child.
I've learned to be even more skillful and resourceful. I guess you can say that I've sharpened the saw. I emerged a greater person, not because I was confident, but because my mom would have wanted me to. I couldn't falter.
I hadn't stumbled when my relationship with my daughter's father crumbled into dust. I hadn't stumbled when I took a leave from my employer after the loss of my mom and my supervisor was not feeling it. I simply didn't give a shit. My mental health had to prevail because I have seven-year-old eyes watching me. 2011 showed me that I inherently know what to do in every situation that comes my way. The answer is right there inside and all I have to do is listen to it.
That is how I made it through these seven years. That little voice inside.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
If you knock, you can hear how hollow it is.
What can I say about this past year that does not include the words bombed-out and depleted?
My mom? Gone.
My uncle? Gone.
Stability in the hood? Gone.
Retreating to the safety of a gated condo? Indeed.
I found out a lot about myself in 2011. I discovered that I really had been living all this time. When my mom died on March 1, I looked at myself in the mirror for a while trying to figure out what remained. I guess all that remained was me. A bit thinner. Worse for wear. But I was still in there.
I thought I would never laugh again. Sometimes I do. I thought I would never eat a good hot meal again, since my mom loved to cook. I have. I thought I would die. I'm still here.
Then the fools broke in to my home. Again, thought I would die. Thought life was continuing on it's downspin. It wasn't. It was making me stronger. Prepping me to pull myself together. Then I found myself questioning my then relationship. The realization hit me that I needed not question what I was staring at. Instead, I needed to question whether it was useful. It wasn't. I unpacked it.
So here I stand with the wreckage of 2011 right behind me. Present and accounted for.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Now let's work!
I have missed the grievances and the negotiation process. So now I will be back in the fray. There is no time like the present because the library is in a state of peril.
Peril? Did someone say peril?
Otherwise, my life seems to be righting itself. The drama seems to be slowing and my tolerance for it is building back up I suppose. I feel like I have something that looks like a plan in place after my mom's passing and the pillaging of my home space.
I feel like I am done. I have stuck it out in this place through the good, the bad, and the ugly. I don't owe anyone else anything else. I gave it the college try. I can no longer afford to suffer and make my daughter suffer as I see the community crumbling around me.
The schools here suck to say the least. I cannot even tell you what I pay for my daughter's tuition. They want to pare down library services to the bone. Not to mention that there aren't even adequate street lights on my block. So I have some decisions ahead of me.
In the words of Diddy... Now let's work.