The tunnels of our lives are those frightening stretches of the path that we must traverse to continue to our destination.
A few nights ago, I did not remember that I am love. I morphed into that person who used to look like me, that madwoman wearing my clothes.
For this sister life does not unfold like a mural with yellow bricks I can see stretching into the distance, guiding me along an illuminated ochre path.
This is my third marriage, and I am no closer to understanding myself in relation to my husband than I was thirty-some years ago, when at barely-20, I first jumped the broom with husband #1. Well, perhaps a bit closer…
I am learning to be gentle. Quite a journey for this strong black woman. I was gentle with babies and children, perhaps puppies. Adults were another matter. We should know better, we should get over it, we should toughen up and take control of ourselves and our situations. I was just as tough (or tougher) […]
It was bound to happen, but for some reason, it took me by surprise. The phone call from my daughter was a welcome one. After weeks of tension, of hurt feelings and jangled nerves, we were finally back on speaking terms.
I wept, grief stricken about them one evening a few weeks ago. I had not cried about my deceased family members for years. My sister, one year older than I; my brother one year younger; my father and his brother and their mother; an older sister that I never knew.
I drove the car gingerly, carefully, as recently licensed drivers do. My boyfriend, soon-to-be husband, sat in the passenger’s seat. He could not yet drive, a curious situation for a nineteen year old Black man in Baltimore. He would not learn to drive for years – after we were married and built a home in […]
My sister is dying. Of course we are all dying, but she is withering in the advanced stages of Huntington’s disease. We have not been close, my sister and me; ten and a half years and different mothers separate us. She was beautiful, and ebullient, and loved life; many years ago.
I hate this. This silent thing where feelings are hurt, egos bruised, where we (I) retreat to our corners and silently live separate lives under the same roof. Marriage sucks today. It was better last week. It will probably be better next week, but today I am not amused.