Thursday, April 18, 2013

But God

20 years ago today, my sisters Rasheeda and Rashawn were born. I don't remember much from that day. 7 months later Rashawn passed away. They had both spent most of their lives in the hospital, in the NICU, Incubators, we had to scrub our hands and put on masks before we were able to see them. When they finally came home, Rasheeda first then Rashawn we had to keep a pristine house, boxes of antibacterial scrub brushes were everywhere, selective friends and family were allowed in the house. I would watch them in their crib, astonished that 2 babies so different in size could actually look so much alike. Rashawn was much smaller, but she seemed stronger. She wasn't as lazy as Sheeda. She held her own bottle which was half her size, she was holding her head up first. Sometimes, Rasheeda would lean over too far and fall on Rashawn, and start crying, I noticed that it wasn't the fall that would make Sheeda cry but the fact that Rashawn would Pinch her whenever she would fall on her. I KNEW me and Rashawn would be very close, she was determined even at 4 months. Her stature would not be an obstacle but a blessing.

I don't remember much from the day they were born, but I have very clear memories of visiting them, of going to the hospital, the nurses, the food in the cafeteria, Luckily I don't remember their doctor but I know I met him. I also remember the day she died. It was my mother's birthday, Rashawn had a procedure so I had to spend the night at my friends house, it was a week day. I decided to get my mom a very nice fake rose for her birthday. I could only afford something from the dollar store, so I made up some story about it being a forever rose so she wouldn't realize it was from the dollar store. I remember, instead of spending the night i was picked up and taken home. No real explanation. I remember sitting on the couch as my mother walked in holding Rashawns blanket, she was crying from the worst pain I have ever seen. I was scared. My family was all around, helping her get to bed, making her a plate of food, a drink, a joint, anything to help numb the pain and all I did was stand there holding my brother's hand. I don't know when I started to cry. I know i was in my room alot after that. Cousins evading my space and helping my cope. I remember feeling guilty because I ate all my food and wanted seconds. Some said "Well, you must be ok you didn't lose your appetite" they didn't say it as a put down, they were genuinely happy that i was ok. But the guilt was still there. Later on the funeral was being planned and I was still just in my room and a few people came up to talk to me, hug me give me a kiss. They would also remind me to be strong form my mom and brother. They needed my help and since I was old enough (11) the best thing I could do was keep it together for my family.  I tried my best. After the funeral my mom would go to the grave site everyday and stay for hours. She would sit and talk to Rashawn, watch the kids play across the street and laugh and cry. I think that was her therapy. Sometimes I would go with her, just for support. Eventually she got better, she didn't have to visit everyday, she moved on still missing her child but able to function more and more in society.

As fate would have it the other day I ended up in front of the hospital where my sister died. I have actually avoided this hospital for 20 years. If I'm in DC and I get a familiar feeling, I instinctively turn the opposite direction. However, a few Sunday's ago God would place me in front of this hospital, unprepared for what happened next. My family was with me but they were both sleep in the car. I drove up to the hospital and got out, prepping myself to do something outrageous, to break a window, or punch a wall, or nurse, to scream I HATE YOU at the building, but sane people don't that type of stuff so I got out the car, looked at the building and drove home, crying to myself. The next morning, it all became clear to me, I had never allowed myself to go crazy. My sister dying had such an impact on my life but I never noticed. Sometimes it's the silent things that have make the biggest disturbance in our lives. Over the years, I have unsuccessfully most times, attempted to keep it together. I'm strong, I look at things practically, and objectively. I let myself cry as needed but not at all excessively. I have an unhealthy connection to the best friends i had when i was 11. I haven't talked to these ladies in years, and I still call them my best friends. I know at least one got married and I was not on the invite list, and I was genuinely hurt. Again, I haven't spoken to them for years. BUT somewhere in my heart i still held on to her as if she was my forever friend. I realized that I don't go to the doctors enough, nor do I take my daughter enough. I also realized I purposely look a mess when i first meet people, in hopes to keep the shallow people away. Right after my sister died, people in school that didn't like me, were giving me hugs, and cards and saying sorry. I was so annoyed by their pity that i began to lash out. I didn't want to me treated differently I wanted to be treated the same. I wanted to blend in, so for about 15 years, all I wore was variations of black. I didn't notice it at first but my whole wardrobe was black with a pop of color. I even stop asking my family to do my hair, i didn't care to be noticed or pretty or anything. I just wanted to keep my friends and help my mom. I also realized, my depression which i began treatment for last year, after a bad adoption situation (save that for another blog) was really all about my sister. The feeling of another baby that wasn't mine being taken from me didn't start the depression as i thought it simply reactivated a sadness that had been in me for 20 years. I was reliving the inability to do anything, the staying strong for the friends and family that got attached so they could heal. I was the same 11 year old little girl that was trying to keep it together and stay sane so everyone else would be ok. the difference was, they didn't need me to be ok. Like the people I was mad at in Middle School they were just waiting for me to do the natural thing. To be sad, and mad, and grieve, instead I said "it's ok, guys God is in control." BUT GOD!

God, allowed me to go to that hospital, because he has a plan for me. He allowed me to go to the beginning of my pain to show me it's time to call a hurt a hurt. He allowed me to go there so I can allow my friends to help me. SO I can say out loud I didn't want to get out of bed today, but my best friend sent me a text that said I love you, so I did. He allowed me to see what I've been missing so I can no longer be numb. So I can feel the good and the bad. So I can say Ouch and Hallelujah. He required me to face my fear, so I can say shut up I'm not scared anymore. Being hurt is not the end result, it's simply a by product the ending is healing. Always. I know it doesn't make much sense, but after that trip I realized, my Sister's death had a purpose. To heal us. My mom at the time was in a very abusive relationship. My sisters death I think gave my the courage and strength to say no more. If she hadn't died, I may not have made it. I might have had to die for her. I don't understand God's plans but I starting to trust that He really knows what He's doing. So Today I say I love you & Happy birthday Rasheeda & I Miss you & Thank you Rashawn.

Monday, January 21, 2013

Last Night I had a Dream

Last night I had a dream that I was standing around with some church family, we might have been visiting a hospital or something similar. As we were standing, My Rev. happened to look at me and noticed my sullen state, and told Ms. Candace (one of my favorite members) "Figure out whats going on and let me know what you need" Ms. Candace then came over to me and gave me one of those side hugs and asked very cordially "How's your mother doing?" I looked at her and started to cry, as I searched for the words to answer her question, Then she said, "Ok, then Where is Granny Vines?" I then began to try to explain that she wasn't coming but I was crying too hard. I continued to cry harder and harder unto the point I woke myself up. I was so confused at first I just kept crying and as the haze of sleepiness wore off I realized that my dream had uncovered some issues that I was unwillingly having to deal with.

Yesterday, Elder Vikki Johnson wrote on her Facebook Page  "I had a dream last night that I believe is for some of you. It seems like people & things are rapidly "disconnecting"­, shifting around, or being removed from your life. Surrender to it. Stop trying to "hold on" as God is making room in your life for what's coming. The HIGHER you go, the lighter & more flexible you need to be to maneuver in your life's purpose!" This was for me very coincidental because the day prior I had a friend tell me she was feeling disconnected from me. She gave her reasons which I will save for another post and though I disagree with her I respect them and after some time to think I decided to just be me, and let God control the rest. So when I saw the above message I KNEW it was God telling me to let go and move along.

So I started my Sunday in high hopes. I knew I would miss church because of my daughters basketball game but I set a side a few moments of prayer made some breakfast and proceeded with my day. We had a great basketball game, though my daughter wasn't feel well. She spent most of the game sleep in my lap. We decided after to game to go visit my grandmother. My daughter wanted to hang out, so it took her a few hours to realize that she was sick and needed to lay down, she slept most of the day but the rest of us had a great time. It was a full of playing cards and laughter, we ate hot dogs and beans and talked. I had a few questions I wanted to ask her but I couldn't find the nerve so I just listened and tried to sneak the questions in the conversation, to no avail. As we were beginning to leave My grandma remembered that she recently found a letter my father wrote a few months after my birth admitting his paternity. I was overcome with gratitude that a young man back in 1982 would adopt me at 3 months old as his own. In my moment of clarity I asked my first question, "Grandma, if Toni and I were to get married would you come?" She replied quickly and in certainty "No, I will not" I reminded her that she had said the same about my cousins wedding, and we both went to that wedding, but she said again "No, I'm telling you now, I'm not going to be there, I wont come to your wedding"

Initially, I felt sad. Sad that I couldn't be what she wanted me to be. Sad that I disappointed her. I was sad because I had already decided that part of my wedding plans would be to honor her somehow or at least thank her publicly. I was sad because as my therapist so awesomely explained her approval means a lot to me and the fact that she clearly does not approve of my relationship really hurt my feelings. We talked some more about less touchy subjects and finally we left. Toni and I talked briefly about grandma's decision in the car ride home, but I decided secretly I wasn't going to worry about it. I would just do whatever God told me to do. Sad or not.

When we got home, I prepared my daughter for bed and she started crying cause she just didn't feel good. She didn't enjoy feeling so crappy and she wanted her relief sooner rather than later. I looked down  at the mini me in pain in front of me and simply said "I know it sucks". I didn't realize it then but I had just spoken to myself. So later that night when my sobs of disappointment woke me from my deep sleep I reminded myself that I made a decision to let it go! Why then are you still crying? The problem was I didn't know how to fully let go. I thought I had, but when you wake up in the middle of the night crying it may be an indication that you need to deal with something. As the sun rose and the sobs started to ease I began to realize what I missed in my letting go was allowing myself to grieve. I had not given in to the grief of unfulfilled expectations. I had let go but didn't allow myself to cry over the lost.

So today I thank God that last night I had a dream. A dream that allowed me to voice those things that I wanted and let go of the things I can't change. I thank God for the dreams. The dream of me and my future wife in a paid for house sending our children to school. The dream of my brother making the dean's list and graduating magna cum laude. Dreams of debt free living. I didn't know I needed to dream but I'm very grateful to God that last night I finally did.