This past week has went by supa fast! I started my new job last week and as I meet with differenet social service agencies, I truly believe one of my callings is to provide some sort of support to the very clients I now serve.
My clients are people who society have given up on, or more detrimental-have given up on themselves. They are mothers, they, are daughters, they are sisters, aunties, friends who somewhere along life's path made some choices, neglecting to consider the long term consequences. They are a mirror of parts of my life.
They are also brothers, fathers, friends who for whatever reason couldn't get it together, but has now made a conscious decision to fight for survival, to fight to become self sufficient, inspite of what the latest statistics say they will do. They are a part of me.
Lastly, they are children, who when I look into their eyes-make me think of the security my children now feel when we are in our own home, eating dinner at our own table, taking baths in our own tub. They are truly our hope, our future.
This week has definitely had it's bumps and bruises, but doesn't life? In spite of the hard times I'm having, I can say to you, where I am at in my life, on this day, "is truly a beautiful thang".
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Getting To Know My Text Style (textile for the slower ones)
Has anyone else got caught up in the whirl wind of texting? Now that I've added unlimited texting I'm sure my friends, colleagues, family, and acquaintances' heads sometimes spin with the randomness of messages I send.
I hit them with anything from a saying or idea I've come up with, the latest on current news events, Scriptura, or just a good morning. I keep up with my friends' days and whatever is going on in their lives. It's a way to stay connected. If I think about it long enough-I'd say I'm slightly addicted. I guess that's somewhat oxymoronic like "kinda pregnant".
Okay, but this addiction has been used for both good and evil. Most recently the evil won out. It reminded me of how nice it is to be somewhat disconnected from some things and now, some people.
This weekend, while caught in the middle of trying to sort out the pick up of my children's furniture and figuring out who would watch them while I worked my shifts of 8p-am (sat) and 3p-11p (sun), this texting thing came in handy.
As some single custodial parents have experienced, dealing with the non-custodial parent can prove to be as trying as pulling an abcessed widsdom tooth which has broken, out of your mouth.
In the ideal world, both parents come together for the good of the child/children, but in my world, my reality has been that one or both cannot or will not put aside their own hurt, guilt, pain, shame, selfishness, basically ego to make it work.
Right you guessed it! I, once again trying to forge an allegiance with their father texted him to see if he would be willing to do one or the other, but all along banking that we would handle both.
"Why didn't she just call and ask him, what's up with texting him?"
Glad you asked! Texting him as been the main way for us to communicate because he doesn't like hearing my voice. Could he just hit delete and never read my texts? Yeah, he could, but the incessant curiousity that we humans have would not allow him to just hit delete and then began the WAR OF THE ROSES (text style).
I won't go into the sordid details (you'll have to read my novel, at the end of the day to get 'em. But I will say this much, it's interesting how powerful this texting thing can be. He called me as soon as received my first text, breaking his control of keeping his distance from me-ALTHOUGH I DID NOT AND WOULD NOT ANSWER IT. It (the texts) allowed me to say things to him that he probably wouldn't have stayed on the phone to listen to. Not that he actually heard what I was saying, but just the freedom I got from actually communicating with him, whether it be fruitful or not.
I did declare after that bout of hurling texts back and forth, that I would no longer succomb to texting as the main form of communication between the two of us. I guess that's the next topic my counselor and I will get a handle on. The Art of Communicating, sounds like a required freshman textbook from college.
I digress,
Peace.
I hit them with anything from a saying or idea I've come up with, the latest on current news events, Scriptura, or just a good morning. I keep up with my friends' days and whatever is going on in their lives. It's a way to stay connected. If I think about it long enough-I'd say I'm slightly addicted. I guess that's somewhat oxymoronic like "kinda pregnant".
Okay, but this addiction has been used for both good and evil. Most recently the evil won out. It reminded me of how nice it is to be somewhat disconnected from some things and now, some people.
This weekend, while caught in the middle of trying to sort out the pick up of my children's furniture and figuring out who would watch them while I worked my shifts of 8p-am (sat) and 3p-11p (sun), this texting thing came in handy.
As some single custodial parents have experienced, dealing with the non-custodial parent can prove to be as trying as pulling an abcessed widsdom tooth which has broken, out of your mouth.
In the ideal world, both parents come together for the good of the child/children, but in my world, my reality has been that one or both cannot or will not put aside their own hurt, guilt, pain, shame, selfishness, basically ego to make it work.
Right you guessed it! I, once again trying to forge an allegiance with their father texted him to see if he would be willing to do one or the other, but all along banking that we would handle both.
"Why didn't she just call and ask him, what's up with texting him?"
Glad you asked! Texting him as been the main way for us to communicate because he doesn't like hearing my voice. Could he just hit delete and never read my texts? Yeah, he could, but the incessant curiousity that we humans have would not allow him to just hit delete and then began the WAR OF THE ROSES (text style).
I won't go into the sordid details (you'll have to read my novel, at the end of the day to get 'em. But I will say this much, it's interesting how powerful this texting thing can be. He called me as soon as received my first text, breaking his control of keeping his distance from me-ALTHOUGH I DID NOT AND WOULD NOT ANSWER IT. It (the texts) allowed me to say things to him that he probably wouldn't have stayed on the phone to listen to. Not that he actually heard what I was saying, but just the freedom I got from actually communicating with him, whether it be fruitful or not.
I did declare after that bout of hurling texts back and forth, that I would no longer succomb to texting as the main form of communication between the two of us. I guess that's the next topic my counselor and I will get a handle on. The Art of Communicating, sounds like a required freshman textbook from college.
I digress,
Peace.
Friday, September 12, 2008
A Hard Call
Yesterday I got one of those calls that I've become accustomed to-but still hate it. I was running late, of course and then it came, "Hey, Pops has been having seizures for the past 45 minutes. The ambulance in on their way and Ma wants you to meet them at the hospital". My father is living with Alzheimer's and a sudden, agressive onset of epilepsy.
When I arrived at the ER I was directed to his room, room number seven. How ironic? I walked through the glass doors to see my father, daddy, Pops, laying under a thin white hospital sheet in a fetal position. He looked so peaceful, so unaware. I walked over to him and kissed his forehead and then quickly wiped my tear that had fallen on his cheek, for fear that I might wake him.
At that moment I cursed this condition called Alzheimer's. I hate to even verbalize it's name. It came into my life four and half years ago and has robbed me of one of my most loving, trusting, comforting relationships I have ever had. But it also taught me some life lessons' such as: tomorrow is never promised, say I love you as much as you can stand and as often as you can say it to those you really care about, take time out to share with your parent/parents-just the two of you, smile often, laugh as hard as you can for as long as you can. And most of all, it, Alzheimer's has taught me that even though my father can no longer remember some things, I can and that to help me get through that I need to remember as much as I can and cherish those memories.
Until later, remember life can be as beautiful as you make it.
Bonita Sistah
When I arrived at the ER I was directed to his room, room number seven. How ironic? I walked through the glass doors to see my father, daddy, Pops, laying under a thin white hospital sheet in a fetal position. He looked so peaceful, so unaware. I walked over to him and kissed his forehead and then quickly wiped my tear that had fallen on his cheek, for fear that I might wake him.
At that moment I cursed this condition called Alzheimer's. I hate to even verbalize it's name. It came into my life four and half years ago and has robbed me of one of my most loving, trusting, comforting relationships I have ever had. But it also taught me some life lessons' such as: tomorrow is never promised, say I love you as much as you can stand and as often as you can say it to those you really care about, take time out to share with your parent/parents-just the two of you, smile often, laugh as hard as you can for as long as you can. And most of all, it, Alzheimer's has taught me that even though my father can no longer remember some things, I can and that to help me get through that I need to remember as much as I can and cherish those memories.
Until later, remember life can be as beautiful as you make it.
Bonita Sistah
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Short & Sweet
I was running late today. I know big surprise, huh? Why is it sometimes easier to live in the madness of being "pressed for time" or more simply put, in chaos? It's what pushes me sometimes to just get it done. And after I get whatever it is done, I'm like, dang-why didn't I get the kids' clothes ready-the night before or why didn't I cook some of the dinner earlier?
I don't know, these are just some random thoughts that have been sitting on my mind most recent. Until next time....
I don't know, these are just some random thoughts that have been sitting on my mind most recent. Until next time....
Monday, September 8, 2008
The Fight of My Life Pt. 2
Good morning,
I know it's been a minute but with the uncertainty of my job situation, trying to hold down working 7 days a week, crying, being tired, depressed, not eating well, and yes the strain of maintaining a civil relationship for the sake of the children with someone who sees you as a horrible person- I'VE NEGLECTED MY BLOG, my sanity, my words, my feelings, my expressive little cove in this sea of uncertainty.
Okay it's Monday, oh yeah, oh yeah! At 10:15am I received a call offering me a job. I don't think yall understand the magnitude of what I'm saying (for real, for real!). This is an illustration of what God will do when you truly let go and let Him do His thing.
I'm sitting here crying as I type this. Don't worry, not the Oprah Winfrey "you told Harpo to beat me!" cry. But a subtle, soft, solemn sob that is a release of anxious, nervousness, reserve, humility, and most of all thankfulness.
I'm so thankful that God didn't give up on me like I've given up on myself so many times. There's been times when I've laid in bed and literally could not move because the weight of depression was so grave. I'm not sure about you, but there have been times, even as recent as this year when I've literally tossed in the towel, feeling like I wasn't worth anything, wasn't worth trying to cross that next valley, feeling like I was running in a never ending circle.
I declared a few posts back that I am now in the fight of my life. In many ways we all are. There are a lot of things we struggle with, which reminds me of that saying that, "without struggle there is no progress". After listening to the Obama speeches I came up with the following phrase, "Progress is made not given".
I leave you with this, the fight has just begun. And I am determined to fight to the end!
I know it's been a minute but with the uncertainty of my job situation, trying to hold down working 7 days a week, crying, being tired, depressed, not eating well, and yes the strain of maintaining a civil relationship for the sake of the children with someone who sees you as a horrible person- I'VE NEGLECTED MY BLOG, my sanity, my words, my feelings, my expressive little cove in this sea of uncertainty.
Okay it's Monday, oh yeah, oh yeah! At 10:15am I received a call offering me a job. I don't think yall understand the magnitude of what I'm saying (for real, for real!). This is an illustration of what God will do when you truly let go and let Him do His thing.
I'm sitting here crying as I type this. Don't worry, not the Oprah Winfrey "you told Harpo to beat me!" cry. But a subtle, soft, solemn sob that is a release of anxious, nervousness, reserve, humility, and most of all thankfulness.
I'm so thankful that God didn't give up on me like I've given up on myself so many times. There's been times when I've laid in bed and literally could not move because the weight of depression was so grave. I'm not sure about you, but there have been times, even as recent as this year when I've literally tossed in the towel, feeling like I wasn't worth anything, wasn't worth trying to cross that next valley, feeling like I was running in a never ending circle.
I declared a few posts back that I am now in the fight of my life. In many ways we all are. There are a lot of things we struggle with, which reminds me of that saying that, "without struggle there is no progress". After listening to the Obama speeches I came up with the following phrase, "Progress is made not given".
I leave you with this, the fight has just begun. And I am determined to fight to the end!
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