It's All About Me...But It's Not What You Think

When this year began, I promised myself that his would be the year that I was going to focus on me and being the best person that I could be...needless to say I'm half way through the year and I haven't made much progress.

I've always known that being a Mom is a lifetime job, but the role of a mother changes, as her children reach and progress through adulthood. That means that I have to change too right? I think that's the problem, I haven't let go.

I became a Mother for the first time at the age of 27, and now I'm 55. That means that I've been a mother for the majority of my life. I'm starting to wonder if I know how to be anything else. A very wise woman, my Mother, told me that now was my time. She said that it was time for me to start to think about myself and what I wanted out of life. Before you start to think that I'm on the verge of being a negligent Mom, my children all adults. I know that they still need me, but they don't need me to be the same mother that they've always known. They need me to be the woman, the Mother that I need to be, that God has destined me to be.

I have so much in me that I want to be, that I need to be. One f my greatest passions in life is writing; as you can see by the infrequent articles or poems that I've been writing, that I haven't tended to the embers of that passion that should be feeding the flame. The reality of it all is that I put myself last. For the last 26 years of my life I put myself last to a husband (ex), my children, my job, and a myriad of other obligations, but that's what good mothers do right? 26 years ago I was glad to do so, but now I need to give myself permission to think about me.

I need to accept that they don't need me to make dinner every night. Why? Because they can do it for themselves. They don't need me to stop drop and roll every time I think they need something! Even my kids have to me that I need to forge a life for myself, that means that I need to listen.

I need to spend time sorting through my own thoughts and emotions. I need to work on making peace with myself. I need to start feeding my soul so I can begin to let God help me to heal all of my broken places.

Stepping out into the unknown can be scary...but it can also be rewarding. I need to firmly set foot on the path and start walking one step at a time...one day at a time.

I'm not sure what the future will bring, but I'll never know if I don't look in the box. You never know..I might just like what I find.

T'is The Season - Making It Through The Holidays One More Time

It seems like just yesterday we were ringing in the New Year, and now we've just about come full circle. Everyone's in the thick of the hustle and bustle. Finishing up their gift shopping, hitting the grocery stores, making sure they have everything they need to make their favorite holiday goodies. Christmas music is playing everywhere, literally.

I used to love Christmas, please don't misunderstand, I still do, but over the years my love for it has changed. I'm trying to figure out if it feels slightly tarnished. The last six years of my life have been what could be mistaken for a Lemony Snicket's "Series of Unfortunate Events". First, separation and then divorce. Second, layoff from a job that I had for nine years (with no job in sight), and third, the passing of my Father in 2015. Most of my life has been spent loving Christmas and all that came with it. The gifts, the food and all of the merriment that  my little heart could handle. Yeah, I knew that Christmas was supposed to be about the birth of Christ. I made sure that I went to church for Christmas services, but you know it was the "let's get in and out" frame of mind that was driving my actions.

Grandma's Hands

My Grandmother, Annie Lizzie Hazel (left) sisters Hattie (center) Luala (right)

My Grandmother, Annie Lizzie Hazel was an incredible woman. I know most people think that their grandmothers are great, and I am no exception. Her story has been one of the most powerful influences in my life.

She was from South Carolina originally but came to settle in Augusta Georgia, where she married, gave birth, and raised my mother and her four siblings. Her husband went on to glory one day after suffering a heat stroke while working in their fields. But she had five children to take care of so she did the only thing that she could, she went to work.

 My Grandmother's life wasn't easy, which was the norm at that time. With a fifth-grade education, she did what they called back then "days work", now we call them housekeepers. She also worked as a cook in a restaurant in Augusta. Yes, yes, yes, my Grandmother could cook! She gave love through her food.

Invisible Me

There's something about a crowded space, full of strangers that let's you know how invisible you really are. It might be the subway station, the market, a street festival; or most recently in my case a party. I'll tell you that I am not the most stand out of individuals in the first place. I am not one of the beautiful people that walk into a room and command attention. I'm a barely 5'4" middle aged African American woman, with a "goddess" body (that's the really nice way of saying full figured) 

I can't even begin to count the number of times that I'll be in a crowed place and people will walk right into me, like they cant even see me. And when I work up the courage to say, "Excuse me.", they'll look at me with that look that says, "Oh I didn't see you!"

I think in some way, shape, or form, I've been dealing with this off and on my entire life. When I was very little, I was incredibly shy. I was the kind of little girl that would hide behind my mother when someone would try and speak to me. And so it was until my first pivotal life moment, I wanted to be a cheerleader. I was in the 6th going into the 7th grade and the opportunity came around for try outs. I told my mother and she said, "Well, you can't be a cheerleader if your can't get out in front of people and make yourself heard." And so I did. I became a Junior Varsity Cheerleader, and then by my Sophomore or Junior year I was a Varsity Cheerleader. Cheer leading forced me to come out of my shell, but I was still unseen.