First Ladies

     For the second time in four months my family gathered to lay someone to rest.  We count ourselves among the fortunate, because we were blessed to have them for the time that we did.  As I sat with my extended family in church in Harlem waiting for the funeral to start, I was struck by several things.  The first and most profound thing is that there are a lot of us.  My thoughts turned for a second and I thought about how we used to run around the huge yard at Cousin Hazel's house under the summer sky and how although there was no gate around it, nobody left the yard.  Good times with good people.  I was also struck by the fact that my "little cousins" are moms and dads and adults in their own right.  I remember hosting parties for my kids and them showing up with brightly colored gifts and big smiles.  At that moment, I smiled and my cousin asked what I was thinking about.  I remembered why we were gathered, and looked around and realized that other people were smiling too.

    Aunt Rose, although technically she really isn't my aunt passed away two months shy of her 111th birthday.  I remember her as a strong quiet woman who always had a hug and enjoyed a smile.  She is the Aunt of my grandmother. My great grandmother was her sister.  She was the youngest of six.  She was also a woman of beauty and was responsible for a long line of ladies.  Not just women, ladies.  She left a mark on everything she touched and believed deeply in family.  She lived a life where she laid her only daughter to rest, witnessed countless firsts and saw the development of tootpaste.

     I mourn the loss while I celebrate the blessing.  Not many people can say they are a five generation family.  Not many people can lay claim to a generation of women who taught us the importance of place settings and tablecloths, tea and cake, cooking and being loved.  They did these things well and nurtured us to do the same.  Clean white shirts.  Polished black shoes.  A warm spirit.  A loving heart.  A kind Soul.  That was ladyhood. 

    My cousins and I have vowed to try to do the same for the young girls in  our family now.  It's difficult to develop Ladies in a day and age of everything pointing to not being a lady.  We miss our Aunt Flo and our Aunt Rose and know that our lives we better for their touch.  Rest well ladies.

Single and a Sista

     So there is much ado about the fact that 42% of Black women are single.  While initially that may be alarming for some, I'm from the "...and what?..." school of thought regarding it.  Let me just come out and say it.  Some of us need to stay single.  Some of us are never married and totally cool with that. Continuing in the same vane, still others of us wouldn't be able to pass the tests that we set out for potential partners.  I guess I will insert my disclaimers here in the interest of full disclosure.  I have been married and divorced and I am currently single.

     I'm going to make several observations about my sisters and maybe even come to some realizations about  myself.  I think that while women are more than ready to take inventory of their potential mates, we are far less willing to do the same of ourselves.  The fact of the matter is that we are always able to our left and right but not always able to look in the mirror. 

    One of the shows that I watch is Bridezillas.  Judge me if you must but it's good watching.  It's like a car accident, you want to look away but you're riveted.  I ask myself, why would anyone want to even marry these heffas, but people do.  Clearly, they know something that I don't because I'm single.  Most women--when asked--will say they value honesty, faithfulness and trust in a relationship.  These are the same women who fake orgasms, sneak out to girls' night and hide credit card bills.  No judgment, just a statement. 

    Women also need to recognize the difference between being a couple, being in a relationship and being committed.  We may use them interchangeably but they are quite different and the differences are very important.  Being a couple means that you have developed a mutual feeling and have agreed to spend time together.  This is the stage where many women assume that there is exclusivity and are angered when they find that there isn't.  Being in a relationship means that you have a connection on one, several or many levels with a particular individual.  This is the person who would be your one phone call if you ever ended up in stripes at County.  Being committed is the the peak of partnering.  This is the stage where you and your partner have discussed the major issues of couplehood and agree to be like minded on issues, compromise on others and agree to disagree on some things.  Commitment is exclusive.  People tend to be clear on where they stand with each other and are clear on the fact that they don't necessarily want to stand without each other.  For me, I hope for a committed relationship at some point.

    The fact of the matter is that we ask questions when we buy cars, homes, appliances and clothing.  We don't ask nearly as many questions as we should of our potential partners.  This is not to suggest that simply asking would yield the truth.  Relationships are serious, and it behooves to be our best if we are going to demand someone else's.  Think on it and get it done.

   

    

"Damn, We Ten Years In Already...?" or Reflections On The Passage Of Time

     So, the new year is a day old, the millenium is entering its second decade and in a few hours I will mark my 20th anniversary as a mom.  It is no accident that time, cumulatively speaking seems to pass more quickly as you age.  Yes, it does seem that the year just began and it will be Martin Luther King Day in two weeks.  So, there are actually pople who study this.  My interest and the subject of the post is more about the feeling than the "science" behind it. You guys know that I am a thinking chick so if you check here you can get some more info.

     I am also subject to this phenomenon.  My "baby" is a preschooler and actually is vocal enough to list why he isn't a baby.  My "little girl" will be heading to college later in the year.  My eldest, who was born today, January 2, is 20.  He is older than Google.  And Facebook. And cell phones.  The very same things that will be staples of my youngest child's existence.  As they years fly by, the good days fly and the bad days drag.  It is what it is and that's just it.

     The new millenium has brought a lot of things on a personal and a global scale. I don't suggest that the ones I list here or the feelings that they bring are the only important ones.  They are simply the ones that come to mind readily or move me so profoundly that I can't ignore then.  In my effort to be orderly, they are in chronological order.

     9/11/2001--Never did I want my kids to have an event that marked their existence the same way JFK's assassination marked my parents'.  That day was a defining moment for a million reasons but primarily because it was the first time that I felt ineffective and useless as a mom.  I was at work in Harlem and my kids were at different schools in Queens.  I remember the teacher asking me to explain to my daughter, where I was in location to where the Towers.  I stood on the steps of my building and explained that Harlem was "far up" and the World Trade was "way down" while fighter jets buzzed Harlem.  I remember her asking how long was it going to take for me to get home and I wasn't coming anytime soon.  I also remember the overwhelming sense of relief when I finally did get home and how I didn't leave it for three days.  My son said that he was "fine".  After I realized that they were cringing in terror at the evening news intro, I just stopped watching.

    2003.  The year I picked up my kids and moved from the city to the country for better schools and more structure.  This little adventure needs it own post. I will tell you that when I decided to buy a house I had $112 in the bank and a committed spirit.  I will tell you that when I finished closing I had $86 in the bank. What passed in between was very interesting and deserves its own post.

    2005.  The year I gave birth to my youngest son.  A drama filled, medically challenging pregnancy, seventeen hours of labor--notable to point out that is more hours than the other two labors combined.  An absolute blessing that allowed me to have a bond with my cousin that I would not have had otherwise.  Life gained an amazing clarity and a refocused sense of purpose.

       Now, I don't want to suggest that nothing happened from '05 to '09 but I am going to skip ahead to the most eventful year of the decade.

    2009.  A year of losses and growth and possibly the only time I ever felt that I wasn't coming out on the other side.  My home, my Aunt Flo and some of my hope.  I mourned them all but I grew and came through and I am back.  The year is new and will bring some uncertainty.  My program is closing and there will be the madness that set of circumstances brings.  I am reconnecting with my faith so I know I will come through however he plans for me to.  Failure is not an option.  I am taking this walk and I'm gonna do the damn thing.  Take your walk and get it done.