Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Dear Diary 20

Dear Diary,

My husband and I went to our weekly couple's meeting last night. It was a lot deeper than usual. Our facilitators have hit us with a lot of topics, but yesterday was different. We talked about how things that we have gone through in our past affect our relationships.

One of my favorite people in the group is a man named Louis. Louis is a man's man and his wife says that he is a wonderful husband and father. He was the first man to speak up. It's very hard for men to talk about their feelings and it took some prodding from the women to get one of them to talk. Louis decided to be the one. As a mother it broke my heart to hear him say that he never really knew his mother.

Louis lived with his mother until the age of seven and then was sent to his father. His mother said she could not "handle" him. He is in his forties and still doesn't know what that means. To make a long story short, Louis still longs for a mother. He really feels that he missed out. His mother passed away before he could ask her any questions. They barely spoke.

I take my job as a mother seriously. It boggles my mind to think that someone just would not want to be bothered with their child. I know there are times when things cannot be avoided and I am in no way judging anyone. I just don't know if my life would be worth living without my children. I think of all the mothers who have outlived their children and my heart goes out to them. I cannot even begin to imagine how they make it through the day.

My prayers go out to the sister of Jennifer Hudson. She has been on my mind since I heard that her son's body was found. I know that mother's lose their children every day, but it has to be extremely hard to see your tragedy play itself out on television.

Being a mother is a serious responsibility that needs to be cherished.

Until tomorrow....

Friday, October 24, 2008

Dear Diary 19

Dear Diary,

Someone very close to me is in the hospital. He has sarcoidosis and they found a clot in his lungs that spread to his heart. The doctors told him he would have died if he would have gone a few more days without going to the doctor.

It's so hard to see someone you love going through something like this. It makes you remember how precious life is.

My husband and I had an argument Sunday night and we weren't too fond of one another Monday morning. What if, God forbid, something would have happened to him? Would I want the last words I said to him to be out of anger? I love my husband very much and never want to go to bed angry again.

I'm so glad my father and I never argued because I never got the chance to say goodbye to him. Our conversations were always filled with love and laughter. I miss him very much, but draw comfort in the fact that angry words were not something we shared.

After my father's death, I began to value the ones I love more. A conversation does not end without me saying, "I love you." That is so important. It's also nice to hear, even if it's known. You don't realize that you take for granted someone will always be there until they're gone. I wish my father's death wasn't the catalyst for this realization, but it was.

I am going to do all I can to make angry words a thing of the past. Words of love are so much better. No more going to bed angry. There are times when my husband makes me crazy, but if I lost him, I could not be found.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Dear Diary 18

Dear Diary,

Yesterday I really listened to the lyrics of the song Superwoman, by Alicia Keys and realized that I needed to post them. I know so many superwomes who never get what the they deserve out of life. I watched my mother struggle and do the best she could to raise me and my sisters. It wasn't easy for her to do that on her own. I respect her more than she will ever know. She's a superwoman. Yes she is!

I'm even going to give myself props. I have raised two wonderful children and kept my family together when it seemed like things were going to fall apart. I'm a superwoman. Yes I am!

We are all strong women and sometimes we deserve more than live gives us, but we push on. Some of us don't realize our strength. We've been told what we can't do for so long that we believe it. Sometimes we put the world on our shoulders and stop caring about ourselves. We feel guilty if we do the unthinkable and put ourselves first. It's time to do that. We're all superwomen. Yes we are!


Everywhere I'm turning
Nothing seems complete
I stand up and I'm searching
For the better part of me
I hang my head from sorrow
Slave to humanity
I wear it on my shoulders
Gotta find the strength in me

Cause I am a Superwoman
Yes I am
Yes she is
Still when I'm a mess
I still put on a vest
With an S on my chest
Oh yes
I'm a Superwoman

For all the mothers fighting
For better days to come
And all my women, all my women sitting here trying
To come home before the sun
And all my sisters
Coming together
Say yes I will
Yes I can

Cause I am a Superwoman
Yes I am
Yes she is
Still when I'm a mess
I still put on a vest
With an S on my chest
Oh yes
I'm a Superwoman

When I'm breaking down
And I can't be found
And I start to get weak
Cause no one knows
Me underneath these clothes
But I can fly
We can fly, Oooohh

Cause I am a Superwoman
Yes I am
Yes she is
Still when I'm a mess
I still put on a vest
With an S on my chest
Oh yes
I'm a Superwoman

Saturday, October 11, 2008

Dear Diary 17

Dear Diary,

I was sent an email by a friend that I wanted to share. I'm still not sure if I agree with ith wholeheartedly, but thought it fit the content of this blog so here goes:


While struggling with the reality of being a human instead of a myth, the strong black woman passed away. Medical sources say she died of natural causes, but those who knew her know the truth.

She died from being silent when she should have been screaming, smiling when she should have been raging, from being sick and not wanting anyone to know because her pain might inconvenience them.

She died from an overdose of other people clinging to her when she didn't even have energy for herself.

She died from loving men who didn't love themselves and could only offer her a crippled reflection.

She died from raising children alone.

She died from the lies her grandmother told her mother and her mother told her about life, men & racism..

She died from being sexually abused as a child and having to take that truth everywhere she went every day of her life, exchanging the humiliation for guilt and back again.

She died from asphyxiation, coughing up blood from secrets she kept trying to burn away instead of allowing herself the kind of nervous breakdown she was entitled to, but only white girls could afford.

She died from being responsible, because she was the last rung on the ladder and there was no one under her she could dump on.

The strong black woman is dead.

She died from being a mother at 15 and a grandmother at 30 and an ancestor at 45.

She died from being dragged down and sat upon by un-evolved women posing as sisters and friends.

She died from tolerating Mr. Pitiful, just to have a man around the house.

She died from sacrificing herself for everybody and everything when what she really wanted to do was be a singer, a dancer, or some magnificent other ?

She died from lies of omission because she didn't want to bring the black man down.

She died from tributes from her counterparts who should have been matching her efforts instead of showering her with dead words and empty songs.

She died from myths that would not allow her to show weakness without being chastised by the lazy and hazy..

She died from hiding her real feelings until they became hard and bitter enough to invade her womb and breasts like angry tumors.

She died from always lifting something from heavy boxes to refrigerators all by herself.

The strong black woman is dead.

She died from never being enough of what men wanted, or being too much for the men she wanted.

She died from being too black and died again for not being black enough.

She died from being misinformed about her mind, her body & the extent of her royal capabilities.

She died from knees pressed too close together because respect was never part of the foreplay that was being shoved at her.

She died from loneliness in birthing rooms and aloneness in abortion centers.

She died in bathrooms with her veins busting open with self-hatred and neglect.

And sometimes when she refused to die, when she just refused to give in she was killed by the lethal images of blonde hair, blue eyes and flat butts, being rejected by the O.J.'s, the Quincy's, the Cuba 's, & the Kobe 's.

Sometimes, she was stomped to death by racism & sexism, executed by hi-tech ignorance while she carried the family in her belly, the community on her head, and the race on her back!

The strong black woman is dead!

Or is she?

Until tomorrow....

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Dear Diary 16

Dear Diary,

It's Tuesday and I feel like it's Friday. I was given a bit of a promotion and some extra responsibilities. I'm so busy that I don't know what to do. On one hand I love it and on the other hand I miss all the free time I had before.

My supervisor was demoted. She's not a very bright woman and has never been effective. It has always been extremely frustrating knowing more about the job than the person who is suppose to be "in charge." No matter how much we complained, nothing was done about her incompetence.

She was demoted as retaliation for a false complaint she made against her supervisor. No one could believe she would actually do something like that. I think they wanted to fire her, but feel sorry for her at the same time. I would never wish that anyone lost their job, especially the way things are going these days. Demoting her was the humane thing to do.

This may sound funny, but her situation reminds me of Sarah Palin. She's out of her league, but would never admit it. The higher ups at my job have always known that my supervisor was not capable of doing her job, but they threw her to the wolves anyway. This is the same thing the McCain campaign has done to Palin. I could never think of my ex supervisor running anything and I definitely couldn't see Palin running the country. (Bless her heart)

I guess i'm so obsessed with this election that I see similarities everywhere. We're in the last days of the campaigns and I just hope Obama can keep his lead until November 5th.

Until tomorrow....

Saturday, October 4, 2008

Dear Diary 15

Dear Diary,

You never know where your inspiration will come from. I signed up for a writing contest that hadn't begun a while ago and received the email containing the rules earlier today. I've only recently started sharing the things I write with other people and blogging has helped me a lot. Even though I don't receive many comments on either one of my blogs, just having a place to write each day is a big boost.

I had the entry page on my computer screen and, for some reason, I could not bring myself to begin typing. My confidence was lacking. I began to second guess my abilities and wonder if I should even enter. I told myself that a lot of writers would be entering the contest and their styles might overshadow mine because it is very simple. Even though I know i'm an excellent writer, it's still hard for me to share my work. That is why finishing and publishing my novel is so important to me.

Anyway, as I sat in front of my computer I was watching a reality show called, Tabatha's Salon Makeover. Tabatha is a very successful hair stylist who visits salons in trouble and helps the owners to get things in order and save their businesses. I'd never watched the show before but it was on and I think I needed a distraction.

At one point in the show, Tabatha was talking to the stylists and she told them that at the end of a day at her salon she can barely stand because she gives her all to her clients. She said she loves what she does so much and that each client leaves her salon with a piece of her because she puts her heart and soul into what she does. I started to cry.

Writing is what I love and her words touched me. At that moment, her words were what I needed to hear. I turned my chair around and began to type. I didn't stop until I was done. The words of a reality show host had inspired me. The smallest things can make you sit up and take notice. I'm upset that I doubted myself, but glad that I got it togehter.

They say the Lord works in mysterious ways. He always sends the message, it's just up to us to recognize it because you never know where it may come from.

Until Tomorrow....

Friday, October 3, 2008

Dear Diary 14

Dear Diary,

So, I watched the vice presidential debate last night and found myself constantly yelling at the television. Joe Biden was a true gentleman. Usually that would have been a good thing, but I wanted him to tear Sarah Palin a new one. It's what she needs. Ever since her disgustingly disrespectful speech at the RNC I have wanted her to get what she deserved.

Last night was the first time I would have liked to see Hillary Clinton in Biden's spot. She would have chewed Palin up and spit out her bones.

I got sick of seeing this face:

There's nothing worse than someone who is not qualified trying to act like they know what they're talking about. It's like when you start a new job and you lied on your resume. The boss comes to you with work you know you can't do, but since you lied you have to try and figure it out.

Palin looked like she was trying to figure it out during the entire debate. Her cheat sheets weren't even helping her. At one point it seemed like she was reading from a telepromter. The moderator would ask her about the economy and she would go into a long spiel about energy and how great the wonderful maverick John McCain is. It was mind blowing.

If you don't know, you don't know. There is no amount of studying or preparation that would have made this woman qualified enough to stand next to Joe Biden, much less debate him. I thought he was very nice to her and, to be honest, I wish he wasn't. If she had the nerve to stand there and try to flub her way through a debate in front of the nation, she should have been exposed for the uninformed, unprepared, candidate she is. She was thrown to the wolves and should have been eaten alive.

God save us all if Sarah Palin is the first female vice president. She'd make a better talk show host.

Until tomorrow....