Finally...The Conclusion to Mother's Day...DL Style

You have those moments, where you are thinking about someone quite often, and then you run into them, or they call you out of the blue. Well, for the past few weeks, I had been thinking about him, but not just him. I had been thinking about him, and his wife and kids. Although, I had never been to his house, I had been invited a couple of times. There were times when he would mention something in his house, as if I should know what he was talking about, I would have to remind him, I’ve never been there. He would insist I had been. I would shut the conversation down, and just let him know he was confusing me, with one, of his other men. All I knew was that he had to live in area of town, based on the malls; he shopped at, the grocery stores, and the Wal-Mart he shopped at. There is 5 Wal-Mart’s that are in 10-15 min radius to one another, yet the one he shopped at I was familiar with. So in the past couple weeks, I know some might think its crazy, but that what my gut was telling me. Know in my mind, I had the feeling I was going to one day walk into a store and he would be there with his kids, or sit down to eat somewhere, and he would be at another table with his wife eating. Even worse run into with his whole family. I thought about scenarios of how I would handle it or how he would handle. Would we play it like we knew each other or just strangers who give a courtesy head nod, with a knowing look in our eyes? I figured I would take his lead; he would have the most to lose, so whatever he wanted. I’m not an evil revengeful person. These were the things I was thinking about, the weeks prior to that day.

“Hey, Y”

I was so busy reading the calligraphy written labels, of the dishes, that I never noticed anyone coming up to me. It was a man’s voice. I was with any man at the Brunch, so I knew it wasn’t someone I came with. It startled me for a second; I looked up, to see the man that was talking to me. There standing in front of me was Loe. Even though I had been thinking about him lately, I wasn’t prepared to run into him. There he was in the flesh. All I could mutter out was hey. My head was spinning fast, not because of seeing him particularly, but the situation at hand. The minute my eyes went to him, my mind went to racing. I wasn’t that crazy in forgetting where I was at, and who I was with. In all of the times, in the past couple of weeks, I had been thinking about running into Loe; not in one circumstance, had I thought about my family and friends, let alone my Mom, being with me. Instantly my mind went into Danger mode…Sirens and alarms were going off in the cockpit of my head. I had to keep remind myself quickly, whatever you do, remain cool and calm. Now that I think about it, he may have used my full name, “Hey, Young.” That sounds more like it. He reason, thought usually calls me “Y.” He sometimes would call me Baldwin, as in Baldwin Hills, because he for some reason thought I lived likes the kids on the television show. He felt like I never worked, but was always shopping. I worked enough for him to ask to borrow money.

Moving on, all I could muster out was, “Loe?”
He was all smiles. “How you doing, man?” I wanted to say not good right now, that’s for sure. I’m running into you, they got no waffles, not a good day so far. Despite that I say, “Good…yeah…yeah…I’m good.” It’s at the moment that I finally notice something about Loe that, I can’t believe I hadn’t paid attention to, from the moment I saw him. He was standing there in a white chef’s jacket and a white chef’s hat. He was looking like a chocolate Chef-Bo–R-Dee. My mind is saying, what the hell are you doing, Nigga? I know it may be hard for some to believe, but I do have home training. As I’m looking him up and down, I simple say, “And how are you doin’?” He then gets this huge grin on his face and says, “Guess what?” I’m not even in the mood to play this game. I give him a half smile, and I just shrug my shoulders. With a huge smile on his face, he says, “I’m getting a Divorce!” I mean his head is nodding up and down, and cheesing, like he won an award. I want to say…You want a cookie? However what I said, “Congratulations?” I mean, what the hell was I suppose to say. I go on to say, “Is this a good thing?” He then replies, “Yeah man, I had to do it. I mean I couldn’t continue to live like that. It wasn’t good for any of us.” I’m not quite sure what exactly he was referring to. Was it living the double life? Was it her financial issues? Was it, that they were simple not happy? Was it other issues that I didn’t know about? I didn’t inquire, didn’t want to get into that. I have to ask him about the pink elephant in the room, but I couldn’t quite go there yet. I instead ask him, “So everything else is good?” He says, “Yep everything is cool.” So he wasn’t getting where I was going, so I have to say it, “So are you no longer with your firm?” He finally gets where I’m going with this. He hadn’t addressed it yet. He gets a small grin on his face. “Oh, yeah I’m still there, but someone once told me, ‘It was cheaper to keep her’” He laughs at that. Okay a pet peeve of mine was when he would take my words out of context and make me sound bad. This perhaps was the only time; he may have used it correctly. I did say that to him. It was in reference to them having financial issues, and him leaving her because of the issues she caused. I told him leaving her was only going to make things worse, because he would have to continue to help pay for her and the kids, and then pay for his new single life. Once again I never heard of two people divorcing, to improve financial problems. Both parties never walk away and saying, “Well that was profitable;” maybe one party, but never both. Anyway he goes on to say, “I needed a few extra bucks, now that I got two households to take care of.” I’m thinking, ‘No really! I wonder who mentioned that to you first.’ He then tells me, “I work here a few weekends a month. It supplements my living expenses.” I then notice another man with a white chef’s hat and coat, about the same age as Loe, starring at us, a few chaffing trays away. It’s a funny look he is giving us. I can’t explain it the look. It doesn’t seem to be a look of why is he talking and not working. It doesn’t seem to be a look of being nosy and trying to figure out of what we are talking about. It’s just a weird look. Loe interrupts my train of thought, with a comment that unravels me a bit. He asks,” Is that your mother, Y?” He has a hug slick grin on his face. I look at where he’s pointing to. He points directly, to where my mother and aunt are eating. I can’t help but wonder, how long before he spoke to me, had he been watching me. I mean it wasn’t like we were the only blacks in the room, so how did he know where I was sitting and with whom. Usually I’m so observant, how did I miss him being in the room. This was making me uneasy. All I do is nod. He then says in a goofy childlike way, “You look like her, Young.” Once again my nerves begin to unravel. I hate the position, I’m currently in. This is not a good look. I just continue to nod. What else could I say? I look to my side, and the other chef, is still looking at us, a couple of chaffing dishes down. It’s time for this little reunion to end. I start doing that thing that you do, when you want a conversation to end; you say, “Well, okay then…” He just continues to smile at me. I can’t help but wonder, if he is waiting for those magic words. You know those words you are suppose to say after you run into someone you haven’t seen in a minute. I think about it for a few seconds, but what would be the point. I had done this a number of times with, especially with Loe. I continue to ponder it, but I decide against. Loe doesn’t hear, “I’ll call you” today. I had to stop going in circles. I get nowhere with it. Besides all of that, my phone was stolen a couple weeks before, along with all my contacts. All his numbers are gone, and I don’t ask for them. I’m sure my number is gone from his as well, because an excuse of his, was that he was always misplaced my number, when we hadn’t spoken in a while. I just had a weird feeling that was what was on his mind as well. I leave it unsaid though. He finally says, “Well, alright Y.” I simply say, “Bye” He then tells me to take care. I turn around, that other chef is still starring at Loe, I can’t help but wonder is he messing with Loe now. I mean Loe isn’t the finest nigga, but he gets it in. To think of it, I couldn’t help look at Loe and wonder, why did I let it go on as long as I did? I mean when we first met he, had a sort of an Anthony Hamilton thing going on. Not exactly my type, Anthony Hamilton, doesn’t really do it for me. However now he had a kind of Ceelo Greene, with a fro going on. His neck was looking real swole. I think since the separation, he must be eating a lot of take out or perhaps a lot of leftovers from the hotel. As I walk away he continues to look at Loe, I could be totally wrong, but it looked like jealousy I was seeing.

I was so flustered, that I didn’t even realize I was walking back to my table, with an empty plate. I knew I couldn’t go back to the area Loe was at, so I went to another section, to find me something edible. I really needed a drink at this moment; even though I don’t drink. Even if I wanted to, this janky brunch didn’t have any. Most brunches I’ve been to, at least have some Mimosas flowing. Even if I did find something edible, I couldn’t eat. The whole time I was back at my table, I felt eyes on me. I tried my hardest not to look over there, just in case he was. It wasn’t long before I was just ready to go. I was not enjoying this brunch at all. All I ate was an omelet, some bacon, some fruit and a croissant that tasted like it came from Costcos. I know a Costco croissant, when I taste it. The chocolate fountain, chocolate was nasty, the dessert all felt store bought. I was more than ready to go. I had to get out of this dining room. We couldn’t leave without Loe catching my mother’s attention though. We are sitting at our table talking, when we hear a couple gasps and yells, Loe is at the omelet station, at this point. I’m not exactly sure what was going on, but something he was doing, caught on fire. There was a huge flame in front of him. My mother couldn’t help but wonder, “What’s wrong with that dumby? He’s just standing there like an idiot. Why isn’t he trying to put the fire out?” Loe was just standing there. It took that other chef who was looking at him to put it out. After the “Starring” chef put it out he kept patting Loe’s back as they had a little chuckle about it. My mother continues, “They don’t need that guy on an open flame, if he just going to freeze up like that.” I had that crazy feeling in my stomach, if only she knew. I pay for my mother and me. At $35.00 dollars a person, plus tax and tip; I paid over $80.00, for the two of us, and something I could have gotten at Burger King. My aunt was on her own, she wasn’t my mother. I couldn’t have gotten out of there faster. I was just happy to get out of there with as little drama as possible going on. We had an intense conversation about how I hated that Brunch, in the car. It wasn’t the greatest in her eyes, but she didn’t hate it. She then mentions how she really wanted to go to this restaurant that I personally love, but she didn’t want to say anything. It was our little tradition, and she thought I wanted to do it, so much, so she didn’t want to upset me. I’m thinking that truly wouldn’t have upset me as much as that brunch did. We decided that no more Holiday brunches were in store for us. Only if she knew that wasn’t the only tradition, that ended in that brunch that day.

Mother's Day,..DL Style

I’m wondering now if this post is meant for me not to write. I have written it a couple times now. The first time I wrote it, and was almost finished, and about to transfer it from my computer to Blogger. Right before I was about to transfer it, I got my first computer virus ever. I didn’t realize that’s what it was at first. Some things wouldn’t work, I let a friend check it out, and it turns out to be a virus. Let the anti- virus skip a few days, and I sho-nuff got a virus. Long story short, wiped everything out. I tried writing this again. I wrote it once again on my laptop, the battery was running low, after writing. I was almost finished, and didn’t feel like getting the battery charger, at that moment. My computer died. I went and got the charger, and everything was gone. Before the virus, if my battery died. I would get the charger; it would bring up anything, right where I left off. Now everything is gone. Why these things keep happening when I’m about to finish. The thought of writing it again, seemed very daunting, and you know how long my posts are too. Anyway, here we go again. I’m trying to finish this before the month of May ends, since this happened on Mother’s Day.

You know how some things unconsciously become traditions, and you not, even mean for it to happen. You do something, you like it once, you do it again. You enjoy it that time as, well, and the next thing you know you somehow have developed a tradition. I’m not exactly sure when it happens, but me and my mother have developed a tradition on Mother’s Day, of going to brunch. I love a good brunch. I know how some love the mixing of breakfast with lunch items. I think I love the excuse to eat breakfast later, in the day. I especially love Hotel brunch buffet. To this day, I believe the Hyatt has the best. In that no matter what city you are in, it is a guarantee going to be, good. Not necessary the best in what they offer or how they prepare, but consistent great quality. Anyway, this year was nothing different. I did wait until the last minute to make reservations, however this year. Most of the hotels, I called, were booked up, for Mother’s Day brunch. It’s obviously a big day for people to take their mothers to; I mean nothing says “I love you, Mom,” like an omelet bar and cheesecake. I mentioned it to my mom, and she mentioned, a hotel, that we have never been to for brunch, ever. I did meet someone once there at the bar, for drinks, but never ate there. I called them, and them, and they had an opening. Here’s the thing, my gut really wasn’t into going to brunch this year. The last few times, we went to brunch on a holiday, I wasn’t the biggest fan. I didn’t mention it, because like I mentioned, it has sort of become our tradition.

This Mother’s Day started off weird, from jump. First of all, Mother really didn’t feel like going to church, this Mother’s Day. Her not wanting go to church, is weird for a holiday. She just wasn’t in the mood. Then, well I had to go take care of an errand, that I had scheduled for that Sunday, I had to well go visit someone in jail. That’s right, you read correctly. I would have skipped it, and saw them another fay, but some things were going on in jail, that I had to go see about. It’s a very long story that I might write about another day. The next thing, my cousin couldn’t come down to have Mother’s Day with my aunt, so she came down, and had Mother’s Day, with us. The morning I had, I really wasn’t in the mood to go, to this brunch, but I went anyway. Sometimes you really need to go, with your instincts.

We get to the hotel, and even though, they have our reservations, they have us wait 20 minutes to seat. Apparently our table wasn’t ready. Why I don’t know, since have the dining room was empty. Now when I called to make the reservations, I asked what some of the items on the menu were for the brunch. There were a list of things, the girl ran down, for me. The two that sealed it for me, was the rack of lamb. I hadn’t had lamb in a minute, so I was excited. Let me paint a picture of the room. There are dining tables all over the room, with linen table clothes. In the far right of the room are tables of lined stainless steel chaffing trays sitting on pillows of gathered linen, sitting on tables, with flat linen. In one corner, there is am omelet station. In another corner, there is a desert station, with an ice sculpture, and a chocolate fountain. Beside the dessert station there is a cheese station. When I go up to the meat station, all I see is a big ham, being sliced, and a big slab of roast beef. I asked one of the guys at the meat station, where was the lamb. He informs me, there is no lamb. I was confused, and upset at that revelation. I then regroup, and go for my next brunch favorite; a nice hot made for me, Belgium waffle. I then asked someone, to point me to the Belgium waffle station. That’s when again I get a look of confusion, from someone who works there, as in “What are you talking about?” I am informed, there is no waffle station. Desperation, is grasping me. I then quickly ask, “Pancake?”…No… “Thick French Toast?”… Sorry, no sir. Devastated now, I asked “Well, what do you have?” She escorts me to a stainless steel chaffing dish with Crepes in it. Okay, now I have been to many of kinds of brunch, and to this day, that is the only brunch, where there was not an item, that maple syrup can be applied to. Even fancy Italian restaurants, at least had stuffed French toast. It was stuffed with mascapone cheese (For my food ignorant readers, that’s Italian cream cheese), but it was an item that syrup could be applied too. Even smaller hotels, like Hampton Inn, Marriott Courtyard, even Holiday Inn Express, have waffles for their continental breakfast. You know they have the little prepared cups of batter, and you pour it into the waffle maker, and then turn the waffle maker upside down, and it cooks in 3 minutes. I know someone knows what I’m talking about. They even have a waffle. I mean you’re telling me, the only thing they could come up with is crepes. They didn’t even look good. I have made crepes before. The first time, I believe I was like 12. I know what crepes are supposed to be. They are supposed to be light and thin versions of pancakes, almost as then as a piece of paper. These were thick and doughy, and not in a good way either, stuffed with canned pears and raisin, smothered with a vanilla rum sauce. At this point I’m ready to go. I even mention it to my Mother. I was so ready. I’m usually the find a bright side to a disappointment type, but not this time. I ask my waitress, about what I was told over the phone, of what they were having, and how nothing has matched. She tells me, that it sounds like their Easter menu. Everything that was told to me was on their Easter brunch menu. Even though I wanted to go, I decide to make the best, because the brunch was not about me. It was about my Mother. I felt if she was cool with it, I could deal with it. I’m walking slowly from chaffing tray to chaffing tray, reading the calligraphy written names, of the dishes, on linen paper. Nothing of which, sounding like something I want to eat. All of a sudden, a get startled, when a voice out of nowhere says, “Hey Y.” I look up and there he is.

Okay, now I haven’t mentioned much about my relationship, with my married acquaintance. I’m not exactly sure why, just haven’t. I mean I have talked about him indirectly. There have been a couple of post about him, but I never mentioned his name or our experiences directly. I have my theories as to why I haven’t talked about us, but I’m not positive. I mean right now, it’s so hard to talk about him. Not sure how to start or where to go with this. Even though I have written this a couple times already, this part never gets easy. This is the part I’m the angriest, that got deleted. As soon, as I think I got it figured out, I have to start all over again, and try to figure it out again. Well, I guess I will start with giving him an official blog name. His name is Loe. I once had a blogger, tell me outside of my blog, that they thought, the nicknames I gave were funny. The funny part is that I’m not really making them up. I may get in trouble, for saying this, but the names I give, are basically, what’s in my phone. The names you see, is the names I basically call them. Some may be slightly different. Loe was in my phone. He once wanted to go by D.L, but once he realized his attraction to men, he thought it was too close, for his comfort. Like people were going to figure out he liked guys, because his name was D.L. I told him, that people don’t think that about D.L. Hughley. However, that was a choice he made years ago, before me. I had a couple different names for his different numbers, one for his office, cell, and home. That’s right I had his house number. I never used it, just didn’t feel right; however he never minded calling me from his house number. He trusted me. For some reason, that always surprised me. I don’t know why it surprised me, I guess because, if I was in his shoes I would have been more careful, always cautious.


Once again I’m lost in how to go on about him. I mean I have told a lot in my blog past, but this seems to be hard, for me to write. It’s not like we had some great lost love affair. In fact, I often felt like it was something, like a one night stand that was stretched into, something more than it should have been. To be honest Loe was never my type. I’m not saying that, in a malicious after thought either. From Jump Street he really was never my type. When I first met him, I thought…well okay I’ll do you. I mean I thought we were going to get each off, and that’s what that. Especially, when he told me, he was married, which was in the first 10 minutes. I believe my question was, “What are you into?” That is usually a typical question for me. It usually leads into “The Talk.” I’ve talked about “The Talk,” just establishing what you are into, what I’m into, do we want what they got to give. Never have I gotten a response, like he gave me. He started rabbling about so fast, it left me dazed. It went something like this…”Well, I’m married, been married for 15 years. I have two kids, blah and blah. I realized I had an attraction for guys, back in college, but suppressed those feelings, and got married. Was doing good, until I hit 31, went on a business trip. There was this other guy there on the business trip. He asked me would I like to meet him at the bar for drinks after a day of seminars. I did. He told me he saw something, in me, and the next thing I know he turned me out. We dated for 5 years, until his job transferred him to another state. I’m back out there on the scene…” At that point I had to stop him. I told him, look all I wanted to know was are you into oral sex. He explained to me his version of the “DL philosophy.” He felt that as DL man you lie so much in your everyday life, that when you are amongst other DL men, you should never have to lie. I mean I get where he comes from, but I still think its bull. With that philosophy, you lie to your love ones, but truthful, to strangers you have sex with…pa-lease! If I’m going to lie to my love ones, I’m lying to the strangers, point blank. We exchanged numbers. However I’ve grown since starting this blog. That whole exchanging numbers don’t mean anything, anymore. He asked for my number, I gave it to him, but didn’t think of anything after that. I’ve had guys asked to exchange number. Then if I call them, they act like; “Negro, how did you get my number?” however he called a couple days later, totally took me by surprise. I met him Sunday night and Tuesday, like 10, 11 in the morning, he was calling me, talking about he couldn’t stop thinking about me. I had never had a guy say that, or act like that towards me. It felt different. It felt new. It felt good. Then he asked me out on a date. He was the first guy I ever went out on a date too.

That’s right; he was the first guy I ever went out on a date with. To this date, he is the only guy I ever went out on a real date with. That’s a post for another day though. In fact, I tried to write about it a couple of times. It never came to publish though. It was called; you guessed it, “My First Date with a Man.” I remember, when it first happened, and I was chatting, with another blogger online, and they couldn’t believe it was my first date, with a man. I mean I guess people assume that after reading my blog, I’m dating men up a storm. Um, no. I screw and mess around with these guys, but I’m not dating any of them. I do not consider going to Mickey D’s or Burger King, for a whopper jr. with cheese, after I ejaculate, a date. I’m sorry, it’s not. I will say this. I did enjoy the experience. I think that’s why it lasted as long as it did. I like going out to eat or appetizers and drinks, and talk to a guy who knows where I’m coming from sexually, and expressing myself freely. I think the issue was liked the dating aspect, but wrong dude. He he was my type in the looks department I think I could have looked past everything else. You know when you are not happy, with the way things are in a relationship, but then you say,"But damn he is just so fine and cute...oh what the hell. Why was I mad at him again?" Yeah I never had that moment with Loe. All I can say he wasn't my type.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t totally dislike him, it, just that he wasn’t right for me. We were just better friends. We weren't really sexually compatible. He wanted things that I didn't. I wanted things he wasn't into. I believe that’s what we were anyway, just friends. I mean we were there to talk and listen, and hang out like friends. I mean I don’t know how many times he called me, when he was upset with his wife, and needed to talk. Perhaps he was calling for more than to talk, but that’s all he got from me, because I wasn’t coming out to do anything, just because he wanted revenge sex or whatever. I was just a tiny bit better than that. We talked a lot. I was talking to him once about one day getting married, one day. He told me not to, that he envied my position. He wished he was my age and where I was at now. That he wished at my age, he hadn’t been afraid to explore his sexuality. He talked about a guy he was interested in, college, who showed interest in him, and all but made a proposition to him, to live together, in another state. They never had sex. He seriously thought about it, but turned the guy down. He told me it was something he always questions and wonders what if. Instead he denied his sexual feelings and a couple years later got married. In a marriage, he wasn’t happy about. Oh that marriage. The conversations we had about that poor marriage. I believe he loved his wife; I do to some certain extent. He wasn’t happy though. They had issues; he made it out to be mostly her fault though. He always excluded the fact that he loved men, from the equation. He figured that since she didn’t know about that, then their problems had nothing to do with that. I always would remind him, to keep him in check. I remember him calling me once, all upset at his wife. It was like 11 o’clock at night. They had some financial issues; in the past and apparently in the present. She loved her credit cards, and she loved to max them out, but she didn’t like to pay them off. A few years back she quit her corporate job, to start a small business. She wasn’t maxed them out financially, in every aspects. She wasn’t bringing in the capital with this business of children nits, and wasn’t good about putting it out there. Long story short, and because I can’t remember the entire story; I sometimes would tune out. Throw him a couple, “uh huhs”, “sures", and “you don’t say.” Anyway she threw them into a financially disaster, that to him and apparently the bank, and credit counselors, years to fix. Well, after all of that, they had gone to one credit card, which was supposed to be for emergency. He had gone to use it for something, which he rarely does, and it was declined. He called the credit company, and it had been maxed out. He went home to check the statements, and found statement for other credit cards he didn’t know about. She was on her way of taking them through another finance mess. He was going through a tirade; about I’m going to divorce her, and her financial adulteress ass, and blah blah blah. I get it why he was mad, but we got to take accountability sometimes. Why in the hell would you leave the paying of the bills to the person, who put you in the mess to begin with? It’s like putting a drug addict in charge of narcotics. I mean really. I let him rant and rave, he needed an outlet. The more he talked about her finance deceit, the more I would get irritated. I had to tell him once, cut her some slack. I mean you commit sexual adultery on her all the time, with men; and she commits financial adultery. Sounds like the perfect couple to me. They actually separated for a couple months, do to that. You know what they say finance is the number one reason for divorce. I often told him to divorce her. Then there were times I often told him to stay in there. First why divorce, if you are having financial issues. I mean no one ever profited from divorce. I mean one person yeah, but never both parties. No two people walk away saying,"Yeah, that was a profitable divorce, don't you think Honey." Then there were times I told him to divorce. Yes, the constant wishy washer. Loe would say that he was in his marriage until his kids turned 1, then he was free to be with men, the way he wanted. I didn't like that. The thought that he knew he was getting a divorce in the future. IT was like he was stringing his wife along for the next few years. I felt he should divorce her know, why she is in her late 0s early 40s. I feel like now, she could find the next Mr. Right, while still in her prime. Divorcing her when she is in her mid to late 40s wasn't fair to her. I didn't know her, but I still had compassion for her. I’m not sure what happen during their separation, because he did one of his disappearance acts on me around that time.

Loe would drop in and out of my life so much. It was never a huge deal; it was just the way he would go about it, that irritated me the most. He wasn’t my man or anything. He was married, he definitely wasn’t MY man. Just be respectful of me. That was my biggest issue. I wrote about it once in Men Who Doesn't Understand Men. Right after that last incidence with his wife, he asked me could he borrow $600, to pay off, something his wife did. I don’t know who he thought I was. First of all, I didn’t think we were cool enough friends, for that. Second I had bad history, with lending money to family, let alone to some Negro, I hook up with. Third, I’m the young-in in college; I’m supposed to ask to borrow money from him, not the other way around. He was damn near 40. The reason could go on and on. My biggest though, was I just had gone through not hearing from him in 4 months. I wrote a post about that once. Not a word from him. I told him what if that went down again, when I go to contact, can’t get no response back for my money months on end. His response was, “You know where I work.” Yes, I knew where his office was. He also knew that I was not the type to go to his office, for anything. He was in my life for a few weeks then. After that I didn’t hear from him for a couple months. There was the time he called, me to meet him for drinks after work. We actually had lunch that day, but he said he needed to see me again. He left me waiting for him for an hour in the designated place, in the rain. I called and called no answer or call back. He called me exactly 3 weeks later to explain what happen. Yes, I kept track. Excuse something about his kid, came up. Too many stories so little time. He would always call out of the blue, with a long rambling story. I mean the message would be 7 or 8 minutes long…”See what had happen, my cousin’s child’s father died, and I became surrogate father…” or my favorite, ”You hurt my feelings, when you said we weren’t sexual compatible, that hurt me deeply, and I couldn’t talk to you, for a while, after that.” I did tell him that, but he totally took it out of context, but it needed to be said. I will get to that in a moment. Then he would get all soft and baby like, ”Don’t be mad at me Y…You still mad at me, I’m sorry” I would forgive him, until the next time. The last time we talked was in the infamous post of Well F*CK You Too. There was a lot I was mad at. Read that post. Wow, I’ve had my fill of filling you in on Loe I know you are tired of reading it. Back to what happen on Mother’s Day.

I look up, and there he is…

To be continued.

Not ready to be an Orphan...Part II

I know I'm late on this, but this is in dedication of Mother's Day. I had decided to finish up on a post series I started last year. The conclusion to Not ready to be an Orphan Part I, since it was about my mother. Before the series...Are We there yet,Von, I received an email from a long time reader, but non commenter, about why I start stories in post and never finish or come back with the second part. This post is not only in dedication to the female motherer bloggers I know Southern Gal, Real Hustla, and Lady Nay, eventhough I don't think she reads my blog much anymore.I have enjoyed reading about O and Poca, and Ishmeal, and Real Hustla's other little girl, that I can't remember's name at this moment. I wanted to send out a belated Happy Mother's Day. I think Belated should be my middle name. Anyway better late than never right. I also wanted to send this out to one of my quiet blog readers Baij, who wanted to know what happen to my mother, if you are still out there, here it is, just as I had started many many months ago.

It amazes me how sometimes when you are going through something, you read something, or watch something, or talk to someone, that has a story that resonates with what you are going through at that same time. Well mine happen to be an episode of Frazier rerun. i happen to be watching this rerun the night before my mother's operation. In this episode Niles has some odd luck, some weird things happen and he thinks his chances have been to good, and based off something a friend tells him, he decides to go to the doctor. Well just like my mother he thinks everything is going to check out all right, but they find something on the test and decide that Niles needs to have surgery on his heart right away. Well in the follow up episode, that came on right after it, Niles is in the hospital, had has some flashbacks about other events that happen right there in that hospital, in his life. He describes how if hospital walls could talk what would they say about you.

Well, as I walked through one of the hospital's lobbies the morning of my mother's operation. I couldn't help think about that very same thing. Although this hospital has three different lobbies and main entrance. There Is one I remember always going into. As me and my mom and her surgery day entourage head to the set of elevators for her check-in I pass some club chairs that I remember sitting in one other occasion. Although from my mom's house, there is at least 4 hospitals I can think of off the top of my head that is in a 10-15 minute radius of her house, one being an university hospital, I can truly say I only remember experience with one hospital growing up. We lived in only two different houses, growing up, and they were only 5 minutes apart really. I was still in the same school district. Anyway as I walked into this familiar surroundings. I thought about my history in this hospital. As I was saying as I walked across the marble floors that morning and passed by the different sets of club chairs, I couldn't help but think about my experiences there. I started to think...really if these hospital walls could talk...

I would think it would say to me, You again?...long time no see. My how you have grown. boy time sure does fly...

This was the hospital that little over a couple decades ago my mother was told by my father you did good. That a nurse asked her, "...That's right, you haven't seen your son yet, have you? Now let me say this I see a lot of babies but I will have to admit Mrs. Black your son is the prettiest baby in the nursery right now." See back in the 80s when women had C-section, they knocked you completely out. Not like now, where from what I understand a woman's body is just numb from the neck or chest down, and they are awake for the whole thing. I was 6 or 8 hours old, before my mother saw me...
This was the same hospital where my father told my mother, to go down to the cafeteria to get him something, when I got my tonsils taken out. He wanted to be alone with me. As soon as she left, it was business time. We did what we did best negotiated. In order for me to be discharged from the hospital, I had to drink so much liquid. At that point I had drunk nothing, because it felt like razors going down. He knew me well back then, and propositioned me. If I drunk the required amount, I could rent 5 movies of whatever I wanted. I countered with 10. In the end we settled on 8 but I had to drink more than the required, to make him look good. By the time my mother got back all liquids had been consumed for the doctors. As crazy as it sounds for a 7 year older, I believe I ended up with everyone of the Police Academy movies...
This was the same hospital, where a year later, my grandmother visiting out from out of town, said she just didn't feel good and was rushed into the emergency room. Who was taken from this world, by God, that same evening, on Mother's Day...
This was the same hospital, a couple years ago, where a nurse asked my father was he alright?...and if he needed anything, to let her know and that she was going to leave the door open just in case..." This being after I snapped after another nurse and told her, "Yes he is fine, now leave us alone, now!" My heated words about things he had done in the past and after not seeing him for quite some time, filling the hallways, and scaring nurses...
This was the same hospital where the next day I finally let my years of anger towards him go, and forgave him...
This was the same hospital where one year later, I ran in and was greeted on those same marble floors and was told to sit in those same club chairs and told that, I was 5 minutes too late, and that my father died 5 minutes ago...

The stories and history of me and this particular hospital are endless and even more detailed. Even though it's a building I can't help but think of it as an old friend who has been watching you grow up and hold all your past. As we got onto the elevators, I couldn't help but think about what else journey the two of us will experience together. How else will it play a part in my life.

We go to the 4th floor, where my mother checks in. It's about 5:30 in the morning. One of the first surgeries of the day. I didn't sleep much the night before...well not at all to be honest. Had nothing to do anxiety or nervousness. Just wasn't sleepy, for some reason. Am attractive brown skin woman at the massive desk takes her into the code access doors and tells me and the entourage to wait 15 minutes. We all were quite, my family being completely quite is...well...it isn't completely normal, that's for sure. They same lady, not sure if she is a nurse or what, she is dressed quite professional and and stylish, comes back out to tell us we can go in, for a few minutes before they start prep and anaesthesia. We head back to where she is. She is out of her clothes and has on her hospital gown and laying out in a bed, in a prep area, with her anaesthesiologist. apparently talking to him about his career...how do I know, when I walk in she has to tell me all about what exactly he does, and for me to talk to him. Always on the hunt for a career path for me, that she thinks is mom approved and that she would want for me to have and pursue. To the very end she is worried about my future. Her words are always, "You are a parent to the day you die!" We all say a family prayer. That's when I can't handle it anymore. I look down at her, as my time back there is coming to an end, and we have to leave and it really hits me then, everything that is truly about to go down. This past several days, since the cauterization, I haven't got upset or cried, or thought really much at all about it. I felt almost numb. We just took care of business. She went through were all the import paperwork and insurance policies were. We went down the to do list she put together; shutters and doors painted, driveway reglazed, extensive cleaning. She said, that out of the normal company was going to be stopping by the house while she was in the hospital, and she didn't want things looking tacky. Of course she had to throw in, that if anything happen to her, she didn't want people saying she kept a tacky house. My aunt would add, "As if anyone would think of that from you!" Through all of this time not an inch of emotion from me. However realization finally hit me in this last minute, and I couldn't take it anymore. I broke down. I don't cry as much as an adult as I use too. I especially don't like to cry in front of others. I keep it together and in until i am alone, but you gets not show out of me. However I couldn't take it anymore and just broke down,I did one of those kid cries. As I was in the arms of one of my aunts, I mouthed to her, "Don't you leave me." She gave me what felt like the weakest smile that she could muster up and mouthed back "I'll try." Then she gave me that everything is okay smile, that I learned from her. I wiped my eyes and pulled away from my aunt, and told myself to get it together. I grabbed her purse, and the bag she had all the things she wore into the hospital, and we head back to the waiting area.

Sometimes I feel like things really do happen for a reason. The current one being me not sleeping the night before. As soon as we went back into the waiting, that was on another floor, sleepiness fell on me. There was several couches and we camped out and waited during the surgery. I had gotten some New blankets from the stylish sista who escorted, when my mother check-in, before going back to another floor. The only time I woke up was when we all went to the cafeteria for breakfast. The hospital has a McDonald's in it, but I wanted something different that a biscuit or hot cakes. I ate a waffle and bacon and cheese omelet freshly prepared the chef in the cafeteria, and went back up to her floor and went back to sleep. I was up worried or having my mind think about the unknown future or certainty. Here's the thing about bypass surgery, they actually take your heart out of your body and work on it. It's actually an amazing thing, when you think about it. They take your body down to a temperature of in the 60's I believe it is, I could be wrong, but I believe that's correct, and they take your heart out of your body. They cut you open, and open up your rib cage. They take a vein out of your leg and bypass reconnect heart with the veins over the blocked arteries. While under anything can happen, either a heart attack or stroke. The heart is what gives your body life. From 6 that morning, when we left her side until about 2:30 I was under, what felt like a deep sleep, except for the time we ate breakfast and the time the moved us to a different floor, where she had been moved. I was knocked out, in a peaceful sleep. I was woken up once and told that the had incurred a slight problem and had to go back in. Other than that it felt as if I had been drugged. I feel like that was all under a Divine plan. For the last few hours it was a little worry, because of the having to go back, because there was slight leakage of some sort. Still not quite sure what that meant.

Around 3, we got the call into waiting room, and told that two members at a time could come back to the double doors, where the doctor will meet us and see her. Me and my aunt Cece were the first two. As I walked down the ICU hall, and the doctor talking about what was going on I wasn't hearing a word he was saying. I needed to see my mother. As I walked into her ICU room, I was a little taken back, at what I saw. There my mother was wrapped up like a mummy by blankets and covers, with tubes and vets coming from her to machines. They had to have her covered up like that, to keep her warm after bringing her body temperature down so far. The only thing visible was right around her face.

After different rounds of two saw her for 5 minutes, the doctor told us the best thing to do is let her rest. He told us that there wasn't anything left for us to do at the hospital, and for us to go home and rest, and come back later that evening. He gave us the number to her private ICU nurse, and that we can call anytime we like and get a check up on her from the private nurse. We left and back around 8 that night, and still she had not woke up out of the anaesthesia. The nurse told us that everyone reacts differently and has different times of coming out of it. I call back at 11 that night, and she still was out of it. The next morning around 6:30, we get a call from the ICU floor, that around 4:30 AM my mother woke up. Her account is that two men lifted her up and shook her awake. The nurse insist that they never lift patience and shake them. My mother holds on to that feeling however. We I went back to see her, that morning. She greeted me with a weak smile. Her body was still very tired. It had been thrown a lot. I smiled and talked to her for a few minutes. She then mouthed to me "I didn't leave you." I mouthed back, "No you didn't."

The last few months of last year were kinda rough and rocky on her way back to recovery. I might go into some other time. This Mother's Day, I was quite thankful to have her. That I had another one to be with her and to show her how much I love her. I know there are many who can't say that. She is one of them.This Mother's Day was a particularly hard one. Although it was many years ago, as I said above, my grandmother died on Mother's Day. This year however Mother's Day was the exact day she died in May, over a decade ago. My mother says it may get easier, but never stop missing your mother, wants they are gone.

Walk in my shoes for a change...Oh that's right you have!

It's been a minute since I last blogged. There has been a lot going on. I have sorta been depressed about certain things in my family, and to be honest didn't feel like talking or even typing about it, in my recent refuge, my blog. However I think I'm ready to get back into the swing.

When we are children, and are parents do things, that we feel was unfair or unjust, the things that so many of us say as a child, is "When I have kids one day, I would never do that or this." It amazes me of how things change when we actually have kids. Those words seem to vanish, as well as the memories of what it felt like at that age. That empathy seems to decrease at every birthday.

Last Monday I had started to write about my Mother's Day weekend. I didn't finish my post, because something came up, and I was going to get to it later. Unfortunately I tend to start many post, then don't finish, and next time I have moved on to a new subject. Anyway, a situation arose between me and my mother before I could come back and finish my post. Me and my mother can go from 0 to 180 in like no time. We have always been gifted in that way. I had named my Mother's Day post " I love you Mom, but..." Even though I was talking about something else. It seems to capture my relationship with her so much, and this situation. It started with one comment. I was telling her how I was helping someone, in a way better themselves. Well at least in my opinion; I thought it was a step forward at least. My mother being the forever pessimist. Made a comment about the outcome being disastrous for me. Now it would be one thing if she said things in a way, where it at least seemed like it was out of love or concern. However I don't think she has that ability when it comes to me. Now I know she means well, and she loves me, but her comments of concern...I guess you can call it, feels like its just pure negativity.

This pissed me off. It makes me mad that she talks about hope and faith at church, but doesn't seem to have to much of it of her own, at least not for people...god maybe. Everything is always taken to the negative. She calls it being real and telling it like it is. Now I understand that she has been through a lot in her lifetime, that has probably shaped this point of view, but sometimes enough is enough. She is always telling me how she is willing to help someone, if they are willing to help themselves. The thing is she never thinks anyone is really trying to help themselves. I told her that she always sees things as the glass is half empty, if it has anything at all in. She is never optimistic about anything. I told her that...or more like I didn't ever want to here her talk about faith and hope again, because she knows nothing about it.

Now we also have this ability to move from one subject to another, in that same argument. We some how go from that to how I always disagree, with anything she says. Now I can very well say the same thing for her. Which of course I did say. More arguing later, when get to the biblical quotes I have been hearing my whole life, "Honor thy mother and father, that our days may be long... or Obedience is better than sacrifice..." We argue some more, than that leads to both of us yelling. Which ends in me being slapped down...Twice!

I stormed off and drove even faster off. When I get that ultimate level of anger and hurt. I don't want to speak or talk to anyone. I especially didn't talk to her for several days. Not a word. I heard how she called a few family members, to casually ask, if they heard from me, and how she was concerned, but of course I never got a phone call. We eventually started to talk again, but for some reason, I feel like this really changed us, and not for the good. I truly feel like I can't tell her anything about my life and doings and probably won't.

Now before I continue let me tell you a story, that my mother told me once. This was when she was 19 years old, a little younger than I am now. How her and my grandfather was coming back from church, one evening. My grandfather was a no nonsense kind of guy, when it came to his children growing up. I have heard many times of the, he never had to ask you twice to do anything. You knew what would happen if he did. As they became adults that change, slowly though, more so when they had kids. Well anyway, they were coming home from some meeting at church. My grandfather was a pastor. They were discussing something, not even arguing, when my mother disagreed with something he said, and he stopped the car, and slapped her, and made the comment "Don't sass me, girl!" Anyway that was enough for my mother to pack her bags that night, in the late 60s, and got on the bus the next day and moved to Washington D.C., to live with family friends. For the 6 months, she was gone, their relationship was strained. My mother was his youngest daughter, and from what people have said, she was like his road dawg, back in the day, in the church. So her moving like that tore him up. Well one night when my mother was almost attacked, or who knows what else could have happened one night, if it wasn't for her quick thinking... when she was walking home from her job. When my grandfather got word of this, he called her and apologized, and asked her to come back home, to southern Virginia. He told her how he was out of line about what he did, and that he needed to respect that she was a grown woman not a child, with a mind of her own. She of course did move back.

Now this seems oddly familiar, different characters, same plot. The only thing is she didn't apologize to me really. When does it happen, that we forget where we are from, and the shoes we use to where. Will it happen, that if I ever have kids, I will do the same? Is that just the progression of life.