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It's My Momma's Birthday - Just Sayin - October 26, 2008 (5069 hits)

Wassup Connect Platform? How ya’ll doing this fine Sunday evening? Like always, I’m very glad you’ve taken time to stop by Just Sayin. Ya’ll have turned this little Blog into something awesome. It’s no longer a me thing, because of you it has grown into a we thing. And we can’t thank you enough for your support and encouragement. Kick back, relax and enjoy today’s Just Sayin.

Today is my momma’s birthday. She’s been dead 15 years, and her birthday’s still special to me. Opal was something ya’ll. Beautiful. Oh my goodness, to her dying day, the girl stopped traffic, and smart. She had it going on. Momma suffered death threats working to integrate the schools in Denver, had a Federal Career spanning 25 years and was among the first African American women in the state to obtain a Real Estate sales license. She was baaaaaad ya’ll.

I wish I could help her blow out the candles; I really miss her. More than I ever thought I would. I remember sitting at the kitchen table one night in my 31st year. I asked her why she let daddy do the things he did. I’m a crybaby ya’ll, and I was sobbing; momma’s eyes flashed with panic. It took less than a second for Opal to regain her composure, and my demand to know why she didn’t protect me froze to indifference in her stare. “I stayed, because it was the only way I could continue to live in the style to which I’ve become accustomed.” There was a lot more said, but I don’t remember any of it. I’ve told ya’ll before, mom got pregnant with me for the purpose of forcing my dad to marry her? Well… I got stuck on being a mere tool she used to protect her lifestyle. I didn’t speak to her for three of the last 6 years of her life.

Opal got lost one day coming from my aunt’s house. She forgot her way home, and she forgot we weren’t speaking. She was so scared, and I started going by checking on her again. I spent countless afternoons listening to momma tell the same stories over and over and over again; Alzheimer’s Disease often had her needle stuck. My brother and sister couldn’t stand to watch, and her anger at dad boiled ever hotter as her memory faded. Much of the time, it was just me and her. Funny the packages blessings come in. The two years I spent watching my momma fade away More
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Sunday, October 26th 2008 at 8:00PM
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Michelle it never ceases to amaze me of the bond that forms in the womb between a mother and child despite bad things happening, I think every child wants the love and approval of their mother and perhaps this is the reason children will go to extreme lengths to defend their mamas' honor on the 'school playground'. "Don't you talk about my mama!" Pop---right in the kisser. LoL

Sunday, October 26th 2008 at 9:31PM
Jen Fad
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