I felt comfort and peace, realizing within a few seconds, this is what’s been missing in my life. Her presence gifted me a feeling of hope, as though ANY and EVERY problem would be solved without struggle or strife. It wouldn’t take a decade to solve a challenge that could be solved in a day, nor would it take so much pain, caused by deliberate push back.
Her caring, productive energy, so forward-thinking…I felt she truly was trying to help us, such an uplifting and inspirational energy. She usually doesn’t speak to me in my dreams, not that she needs to, but I always understand and know exactly the message she is trying to bring to me. She was standing in front of me, holding up a set of lovely curtains that she made herself, I knew this automatically, because she was quite the seamstress when she was alive. Upholstering old pieces of furniture, making them look beautiful and classic, which always blew me away. This was a natural skill she had, that I did not inherit, but always respected and admired her for it, which I told her when she was in the flesh.
Behind her was an array of curtains, of many different, styles, patterns and colours, beautiful, and looked of quality. I thought, How did she do so much work, in such a short amount of time?? And why did I assume that she had less time? This is the thing about dreams, they can immediately make sense, or have you questioning, with logic, which you’re really not supposed to do, because dreams do not always walk straight…
My spirit told me that Mom was trying to show me something, and it was beyond the curtains, so when I awoke, I made note of the dream, and made note to tell my father the next time that we speak on the phone. This was a dream that had a message for ALL of us, and she deserves reciprocity for all that she did for us, with a clean heart. I will continue in my next post, Have good night and Good sleep!
It was nice to take a different route, I love looking out of the window, seeing areas that I grew up, and haven’t seen in the longest time, until an important task or errand takes me out there. Bringing me a feeling of comfort, safety, curiosity, slight confusion, and beautiful nostalgia. I’ve felt at times as though I tripped back in time, and I’m trying to makes sense of where, what and how, I ended up in a particular place. I continue trying to piece together, pieces of my childhood that I feel as though are missing, or fragmented. I strive to figure out where they fit, like trying to complete a puzzle. I was telling my Auntie this, as we drove down the Gardiner Expressway, and I was taking in the the “Grass Art”, and the advertisement logos, that have been there from back in the day. I explained to her that every time I see them, I flash back to sitting in the back of a taxi cab, at night, gazing out of the window as cars speed by, capturing the night scene, the waterfront, the grass art, the vibe of the city. And, although, I do not know where we are going, I do not ask, and sit quiet with the rest in the back, fighting heavy eyelids, trying to stay awake, until we arrive at our destination, because waking up in an unknown place can be a tad traumatizing. Do you remember those days, as child? Falling asleep during a loooong car ride, and being woke up to a different place, space and time? As your Mom gently touches your shoulder, and rocks you to wake you up, your eyes slowly open and you felt as though you were sleeping for centuries, like a sleeping giant from from the children’s story book…
Moments and memories embedded in my soul, the city awakens in me, regardless of the occasion. We touched down many diverse spaces, due to circumstances that were beyond my control. I was innocent and not old enough to grasp the magnitude of how much we endured, along with Mom, alone, and how it must have been from Mom’s point of view. She modestly navigated areas of the city, diverse spaces, with us gathered around her, while she pushed a stroller with a small baby and a toddler, walking beside her, walking in front of her, holding her hand if she had one free to hold. Watching her carry bags, along with a baby bag, just to run a simple errand…Damn…It can be challenging doing it alone, car-less, on a tight budget, moving quickly through rush hour, on guard for personal safety, and terrible drivers! So, how did she do it everyday, all alone??
I didn’t post on that day, I didn’t go through the boxes of photos I haven’t looked at in years, I didn’t text or call anyone. I didn’t expect a call or text from anyone, and I didn’t receive one. We all know what day it was. I usually would feel compelled to text my father and say something, but nah, what’s the point. Everytime I took to my media pad to write, I drew a blank. I didn’t know where to start. I was worried that I may repeat myself and say what I have already said in previous posts.
I didn’t feel sad, just uneasy, slightly frustrated and disappointed. It felt “off” to me that I was calm, yet tortured by my thoughts at the same time. After all these years, WE are still not able to collectively acknowledge that day. The reason why, is what I still have not been able to shake, it bothers me, especially on that day. The reason “we” don’t speak of her collectively on that day, is because of the negativity, the awful behavior, and the messy aftermath that ensued years ago. I am absolutely embarrassed that the closure I feel I have reached, is haunted. I still feel as though, her legacy has been sullied, because of others guilty conscience. She still does not have a burial site, a place where her mother, siblings and friends can go to pay their respects. We still can not come together and celebrate her and all the good that she selflessly brought to our lives.
A few weeks ago, I had a very random short dream about her, and she spoke to me. I woke up feeling surprised at what I dreamt, yet assure. I hadn’t had a dream of her in a long time. The dream was a little weird, but not for a dream. I usually would not feel comfortable or open to share a dream like this, but I now I want to. It confirmed and validated my feelings about that day. The day had not come yet, but I was given a message, a message directly from her. In my dream we were sitting on the ground, facing one another, with our legs stretched out in front of us, and the soles of our feet pressed together. She then proceeded to ask me to change her socks, and I did so. It was a funny request, but she rarely asks for anything, and I didn’t mind of course, she’s Mom. I woke up thinking, Wow, I actually saw her, and she SPOKE to me! I felt assure, but wanted to confirm what the symbol meant, the “socks”. I looked it up, and the socks meant what my instincts told me they meant, “comfort”.
Her message made me feel confident, and relieved, and know why she asked me to do that. I shared me dream with a few people who are close to me, and they understood the significance. So, as the anniversary of her passing fast approached, the dream lingered in my subconscious. On that day, I knew what we all should be doing, but it’s going to take more than my words to do it. I am so tired and emotionally depleted from trying to explain, why it’s so important that by any means necessary we do what should have been done ages ago.
On that day, August 30th, I was quiet as a mouse and incognito as usual. I felt silly and foolish, yet again, feeling absolutely alone and stranded with my desire to break the spell after almost a decade.
I thought to myself before posting a short dedication on my instagram, what type of child would I be, if this didn’t bother me??? For she was my mother, the only one I’ll ever have.
I understand that in this age, social media is therapeutic for many to express their feelings. Maybe it’s just me, but posting on social media is not my first thought after hearing news of a loved ones passing. Devastating news takes more than a minute to sink in, and death is the hardest to process. I’ve expressed my opinion in the past, regarding what I consider irresponsible use of social media RE loved ones. I am naturally a reserved and shy person to a degree. It took me years to get used to posting daily, especially my actual current thoughts. I don’t mind sharing, but it’s important to process your thoughts, so you can understand them, before sharing. The problem with death, is that everyone process death differently, and folks may get you twisted, based upon what you do or don’t post. I’ve witnessed a few celebrities be attacked or trolled online for posting “too late” on the passing of a loved one. I find that completely insane. It astounds me how relatives of celebrities deal with the passing of their famous relatives while the world posts their face. I do understand it comes along with the territory, but imagine not knowing that they passed away, and that’s the first thing you see! That would be difficult to deal with, for me at least.I couldn’t imagine total strangers re-posting info and details that I didn’t know about, especially when the news is fresh. About a week ago, I found out a very close friend of the family that was like family to us had passed away in a fatal car accident. I had to contact a relative to confirm that the news was true. The feeling of not knowing frustrated and annoyed me. It’s wrong to find out about the passing of a friend or relative via social media because it you can’t trust that the info is true. It’s the same as seeing a post about a celebrity death on a blog site or social media. You don’t necessarily know if the news is true, it could all be hearsay. Folks don’t hesitate to post, or re-post a story without fact checking first.
It’s horrifying to unknowingly log into your social media account, instantly see a photo of a friend or relative, with a blown up photo on your screen with the caption “Rest In Peace”.
This is all my opinion of course, I don’t expect my friends and family to feel the same way however, there’s nothing better than direct contact when handling mourning. I love to celebrate what that person brought to my life, with the people who knew and loved them best. There’s nothing better than the real thing, and talking about the best they brought to our lives keeps their light alive.
I’ll leave it at that for now, this is never an easy topic to write about but I hope you find the logic in my thoughts.
I’ve been meaning to post for days now, but I couldn’t focus, my thoughts were all over the place. I was thinking about my grandpa in the hospital, in a coma. I was thinking about about how much I wanted to fly down to Miami and visit him, just so he could hear my voice. I wasn’t able to go. As my birthday approached, I wasn’t feeling good about that, but I was optimistic that he’d wake up. He was starting to exhibit signs that he would but some folks around him were already writing him off. I was upset and angry that they weren’t giving Daddy the energy he deserved. I tried to keep my composure and keep my thoughts positive. I’ve always known Daddy to be a positive man, and a fighter who bounces back from anything. I was prepared for the worst, but hoped for the best as I waited to hear an update. My Auntie G and the fam around were very optimistic about Daddy bouncing back as well.
In the wee hours of my birthday morning I texted my twin sister wishing her a Happy Birthday. I also praised us for making it this far. I’m proud of myself for making it through another year in one piece. That is most important to me every year, but I do love birthday cake, and presents. Anybody who knows me, knows that!
In the afternoon, I was informed that my grandfather was no longer with us. I knew there was something off, just by the manner in which my Auntie told me. A decision was made and we were not informed. I knew his passing wasn’t natural, I could feel it. I didn’t ask any questions, it wasn’t the right time for that. It was my birthday and I most definitely did not feel like seeing anyone or celebrating. I was just going to stay in my room, quiet to myself. My fam didn’t want that though, they wanted us to all come together, and celebrate the way Daddy would’ve wanted. I felt as though Daddy’s comforting energy was present. Auntie hugged me saying it’s my day and we will be celebrating with cake. I felt a little better hearing that, I had no excuse to go and hide away. My cousin texted me telling me she’s on her way.
This is a birthday I will never forget. RIP Daddy.
I won’t tell you that everything will be okay, because I know that life will never be the same for us if we lose him. I’m not that person who simply says to “pray” and posts prayer hands emojis all over my social media. I try not to say, “I’m sorry to hear that” because it sounds insincere, and generic. Actions speak louder than words, and what I do, what WE do collectively, can do more than you think.
As I write this, I’m laying down, fighting to keep my eyes open. I should be sleeping, but I need to share these thoughts. I recently heard disturbing news about my grandfather from my mother’s side. He’s the only grandfather that I’ve known, and we all affectionately call him “Daddy”. He is one of the only caring, consistent male figures that I’ve ever known. He actually is my step – grandpa, and I was very surprised when I found this out growing up. It didn’t matter that we aren’t blood related, but it amazed and shocked me because of the way he cared for my mother and her sisters. It was as though they were his own, and he even went the extra mile for them, helping them. He always made me feel important, even though he has tons of grandchildren. He never mixed me up with my twin sister, addressing me by my actual name.
They say, you never know when you’re gonna go, so don’t forget to tell the people around you that you love them. I’ve always agreed with this, and try to live by it. Witnessing a handful of loved ones pass away suddenly, has reinforced this reminder. Showing my appreciation on a daily basis is a daily priority in my life. It’s better than saying “I love you”, because memories of you is all they’ll have when you’re not in their presence.
I think it’s weird and wrong, that it takes a tragedy, an unfortunate occurrence to bring us together. We shouldn’t wait until a person is sick or passed on, to do for them what they’ve done for us.
I took a break from posting online, but I’m back:) From the day of Mom’s passing anniversary, I’ve pretty much been ghost. Every year is different, and this year I stayed to myself and avoided frivolous conversations. I went away and put myself in a quiet space. I allowed my self to feel what I feel, and I’m glad that I did. I didn’t feel the need to post my feelings on social media on the day, or post a dedication. I didn’t receive a text or call about the day, and that was okay, but still made me ponder….I thought a lot about her, and lessons that she taught me. I thought about how actuallydoing as she taught me, caused others to resent me. I have a deeper appreciation for her every year, as I grow older. It hurts my heart and bothers my conscience that I still haven’t been able to properly celebrate her with the ones I grew up with….Since August 30th I think I grew a little. When it comes to my feelings, and facing more than the memories of her, I accept where I stand. There’s more to share, in my next blog. Stay tuned:)
I felt ashamed for needing my mother at this point in my life, I felt extremely vulnerable….My tooth pain brought me back to a different place. As I tossed and turned trying my best to fall asleep. I tried to bear the sensation that I can best describe as knives stabbing me repeatedly. I reluctantly took an advil, and tried to distract myself by listening to a program, then I felt to call out for my mother for help. At that moment I felt that I needed to hear her voice, to have her reassure me that the pain was only temporary. I felt she was the only person who could understand.
I remember after I moved out on my own, one night I slept over at the mom’s house and wasn’t feeling well. I was coming down with the early stages of a cold, coughing, curled up on the couch with a blanket. I fell asleep, and as I awoke, my mother was standing in front of me with a glass of fresh orange juice mixed with garlic. This was her amazing, quick fix remedy to cure a cold, and I was very happy to drink it. It warmed my heart that she took the time to do that because although that was her way, I forgot about the benefits of coming back home. I would usually have to get up and make my own concoction for a cold, and it was very nice having it done for me.
So the night I felt I truly needed her, I actually felt guilty for needing her, because she already gave so much of herself while she was here. She took care of me, of us, and didn’t hesitate to go the extra mile. She literally put my pain, her children’s pain ahead of hers all the time, one hundred percent. When she passed away, I felt and thought that she deserves a rest, a break from this earth plane. I replayed all the times that I was sick, it hurt or needed her to assist me with treating an illness. I thought about how much she did for me multiplayed time six, plus the other children she helped who were not hers. My gratitude and appreciation has grown more for her the older I grow. I am flattered when I am compared to her, but also saddened when reminded of her leaving…..
It’s difficult for me to witness so much lack of appreciation and willingness to carry on what the “good” people do when they are here. That is why I chose to share these thoughts. It’s bigger than teeth.
I’ve been meaning to post since my last blog, but have been distracted, because I am in pain. I’ve been enduring tooth pain for the past weeks due to an issue with a wisdom tooth that hasn’t grown out, but is right beneath the surface wreaking havoc on the tooth beside it. It’s starting to worsen, which unfortunately is affecting my daily life, and I’ve even had to miss work.
Growing up I experienced a lot of pain due to my crooked front teeth. My mother had to bring me for x-rays often. I didn’t understand it at the time, but I constantly had headaches and pain due to my jaw alignment. My mother didn’t promote unnatural medicine, but there wasn’t much else she could do but give me aspirin to relieve it. I hated taking it. I avoided these type of medicines because of this.
Over the years I had many dentist and orthodontic appointments because of my teeth issues, and I actually enjoyed going to those appointments with my mother. It was time that I rarely got to spend with her alone, attention that I needed. I enjoyed the bus ride and going to the store without a bunch of other kids around. My mother always made sure that I was comfortable and aware of what my appointment would entail. She warned me of the possible pain I would have to endure and I appreciated that.
By looking at me know you’d never know that I wore a head-gear and braces for years. I often receive compliments for my teeth and smile. People don’t believe that I actually used to get made fun of for my severely crooked front teeth, which I will talk about in another blog.
I’ve taken the best care of my teeth as I can, even spent hundreds and hundreds due to having no dental insurance. I made sure to get those yearly check ups and keep my oral health in tact. My mother’s influence set that example. When she passed away, I thought about how much time, effort, and money that she specifically put into my teeth. She helped grow my self-esteem, a beautiful smile can go a long way in life. She invested in my teeth as a single mother struggling at times to ensure our basic needs were met.
The other night I found myself wanting to cry out for my mother. I was tossing and turning in my bed, trying to fall asleep and block out the excruciating pain I was in. I haven’t had that feeling since I was a child, and I wasn’t the type of child who cried for my mom when I was in pain. I didn’t want to stress her out, I didn’t want her to worry about me.
I felt ashamed for needing my mother at this point in my life, I felt extremely vulnerable….My tooth pain brought me back to a different place.
I will continue in my next blog, it’s bigger than teeth.
I thought it was a rumor, I didn’t look long enough to confirm if it was. I googled his name and nothing significant came up, so I left my computer and went about my business. As I walked up the stairs to leave, my aunt yelled to me, that he had been shot AND killed…
The internet is odd to me when it comes to violent acts, people lying and making up stories for attention is a norm nowadays. I don’t believe everything I hear, so I didn’t believe that anything really happened to this young man until it was confirmed. I was very upset and and felt drained at that moment. I felt sorrow, disappointment, and anger. The first thought that came to my mind was, he is so young, and didn’t get to finish his course, and what are the people going to do without him?!! What are his children and woman going to do without him?? More children left without a father, who was ACTUALLY taking care of them, AND hiscommunity. Who else has the strength and courage to build and help others the way he did???
The reason I originally started following him and taking in his music, was because of his attitude and build- it-on- your own mentality. As I received text messages about it, I couldn’t express how annoyed I was. Although I do not know him, and know he was not perfect, I still felt he deserved to at least live until forty. Who knows how much more he could’ve done and learned…
There’s something else I need to add, that’s been bothering me RE death and the internet’s manner of dealing with it. Celebrity or not, if we claim to love and admire this person so much, why would you post such a gruesome scene of their last living moments??? Do you think that HE would post the same of you if the roles were reversed??! If your relative died in violent manner caught on camera, would you want to see a video of them layed out on the ground, fighting for their life??? Of course not!!! Getting over the initial shock of them dying is difficult enough, so is a visual necessary??? Do we need to see everything?!! NO. OF COURSE NOT!
But I guess that comes along with the price of fame, everything is open for the public. I feel as though we the people, need not want to see all the details, it’s unnecessary. Famous or not, we can help with “well wishes and prayers” or just do the fair thing, that you’d want done for you or your family if you were in that tragic situation.
I don’t feel the need to post the name of who I’m talking about, I’m sure the majority of you figured it out.
I hope you get the rest you need, you accomplished much in your thirty-three years. I appreciate your lessons and encouragement and of course, your quality music.
Dawn Lovely says.................. 