Heartbroken and Taken for Granted
How we take things for granted.
Sometimes we fail to always remember and know the most important things in life and why they and life are important. We set aside things that matter to us like family, home, friends, and others. We gradually become lonely without knowing, heart-broken, and prisoners to what is causing us to do things like this. Here's my story:
It all started approximately January 15, 1995, at 12:00 noon. It was a cold and snowy winter's day in Jersey City, New Jersey. Like any other children, my age, I was outside making snow angels, building snow forts, making snow-men, and having snowball fights.
That's when my mother called my siblings and I in for dinner. Just about half-way into dinner my brother who was in the Army came home. He surprised us all because we didn't knew he was on leave. He usually calls or writes us to tell when he is coming home. "Are you AWOL?" my mother asked when he finished giving out his warm, authentic, caring, unforgettable, and haven't seen you in a long time hugs. How fast she said it made it sound like "A wall" instead of AWOL.
He answers, "Now how would I be a talking wall and how would I come from you if I were "A wall". "Don't gimme nona yo smart aleck lip, you know what I mean. Now is ya or is ya not," she snaps pointing her finger. "O.K., O.K., I'm not," my brother quickly exclaims in his defense. "Boy...."
One of my youngest brothers (if you ask me, who watches way too much "Good Times" [and T.V. period]) jumps in and says "Mama, boy is a white racists' word." There was a sudden pause.
Finally, we all started to laugh. When we had finished laughing, Mama told my brother to join us for dinner. "I know you ain't had no soul food a long time," she paused.
"Probably ain't even had no good and/or home down cookin'," she said. "Aey it keeps me alive." After we had finished dinner my younger sister, La'Tara, washed the dishes while my other siblings washed up.
After that, we all swarmed around my brother as he told stories about some things that happened while he was out of our presence. He began to tell one about someone dying (or died), but my mother stopped him, so that he wouldn't spook the little ones. She could've at least let me heard it. (Sometimes I wish that we women didn't have that intuition [or at least it shouldn't kick in all the time]) After that we went to bed.
The next day was filled with so much excitement. We all wished we could have stayed home with our brother.
It all started approximately January 15, 1995, at 12:00 noon. It was a cold and snowy winter's day in Jersey City, New Jersey. Like any other children, my age, I was outside making snow angels, building snow forts, making snow-men, and having snowball fights.
That's when my mother called my siblings and I in for dinner. Just about half-way into dinner my brother who was in the Army came home. He surprised us all because we didn't knew he was on leave. He usually calls or writes us to tell when he is coming home. "Are you AWOL?" my mother asked when he finished giving out his warm, authentic, caring, unforgettable, and haven't seen you in a long time hugs. How fast she said it made it sound like "A wall" instead of AWOL.
He answers, "Now how would I be a talking wall and how would I come from you if I were "A wall". "Don't gimme nona yo smart aleck lip, you know what I mean. Now is ya or is ya not," she snaps pointing her finger. "O.K., O.K., I'm not," my brother quickly exclaims in his defense. "Boy...."
One of my youngest brothers (if you ask me, who watches way too much "Good Times" [and T.V. period]) jumps in and says "Mama, boy is a white racists' word." There was a sudden pause.
Finally, we all started to laugh. When we had finished laughing, Mama told my brother to join us for dinner. "I know you ain't had no soul food a long time," she paused.
"Probably ain't even had no good and/or home down cookin'," she said. "Aey it keeps me alive." After we had finished dinner my younger sister, La'Tara, washed the dishes while my other siblings washed up.
After that, we all swarmed around my brother as he told stories about some things that happened while he was out of our presence. He began to tell one about someone dying (or died), but my mother stopped him, so that he wouldn't spook the little ones. She could've at least let me heard it. (Sometimes I wish that we women didn't have that intuition [or at least it shouldn't kick in all the time]) After that we went to bed.
The next day was filled with so much excitement. We all wished we could have stayed home with our brother.
Post Comment | View Comments
