CLARAFIED BUTTER

The holiday season is here and along with it comes the memories of loved ones once shared. After all my reflections about Ma, I think I've finally found the words to express what it is about her passing that has been the hardest to reconcile. Ma saw the best in me, even when I couldn't see it in myself. She would polish me up and give me the confidence I was missing. She, like mother nature specialized in turning coal into diamond. Perfect example of this was in 2002. I was in college, fumbling and struggling. In our daily conversations I would attempt to present my best self, but there was never any fooling her. She asked the difficult questions, to wade through my facade and found the encouraging words I needed to hear. Once it was time to come home, I remember her assessing me at the airport and immediately coming up with a plan of action to cultivate and heal wounds I hadn't even realized were there. She was my personal pit crew, able to assess and fix what ailed me unt...

My weekday mornings start off something like this: wake up,  refresh, get the kids up (usually by singing the Good Morning song, loudly), get them refreshed and dressed, which usually takes fifteen to twenty minutes if they are cooperating, then we go on the hunt to find socks, shoes and outerwear, which are normally together, but not always. Now this step can take anywhere from five to thirty minutes! Side note: I am the sock wrangler, not by choice but circumstance. My husband has no shame in putting our kids'shoes on without socks, even when it's freezing outside, just so he won't have to look for their damn socks! Now that's shameful. I had to become the sock wrangler, their poor little toes and feet demanded it! Anyway, once we're all in the car Mama can relax while Daddy drives himself to work. Once he's at work, I always use the Waze app to get the kids to school on time so they can eat breakfast. I'm usually fighting rush hour traffic to get them ...

"Mama, you stay on my mind. Mama, you're one of a kind. Mama, I'm keeping my eyes on you..." Every post I write could really start off this way. The struggle is real, I miss my Mama every day. That's despite knowing, we are as close as we ever could be. I still miss her physical presence. At least once a week, there is a moment I reach for my phone in the hopes of hearing a word from her. What I've learned is if I'm patient, the word I'd normally get from her finds me eventually. Maybe not right when I want it, but unexpectedly at a time I'm open and willing to receive it. I catch it and know it's from her. I had a stressful week, not unexpected but it had me feeling extra vulnerable. I really needed some 'Mommy love'. That look of comfort or encouragement that only your Mama could provide. I mourn that, but am aware of what I get instead. Like, my son asking me for a hug with his arms out stretched and a big kool-aid smile on h...

We just celebrated my eldest child's sixth birthday! I tend to get a little sentimental around this time because becoming a mother is the bravest thing I have ever done. This sixth birthday also means I've been successfully keeping another human alive for six years. That's major, considering how clueless I truly was, especially in the beginning!  Motherhood constantly pushes me to new limits, to places I never thought I would go and into doing things I never knew I could. Only a few people know that I have no tolerance for vomit. I haven't done it since I was twelve and I am of absolutely no use around those that need to do it. I'm quite dramatic whenever someone near me feels the urge. If someone even coughs hard, my automatic response is to stare at them to see if they produce 'the puke face,' if they do then my hands immediately cover my ears, so I don't have to hear the retching sound. I even tend to talk loud or sing obnoxiously to drown...

As I ponder over these past few weeks of motherhood, since both babies have been in school I can't help but feel so many things. It's weird not being with them all day every day. I enjoy the 'freedom' or lack thereof, since all my thoughts are with them, wondering if they ate breakfast, will they eat their lunch, what are they retaining, are they behaving. What will their teacher notice that I didn't about their appearance, before sending them to school. These things and more consume my mind in those hours they are out of my sight. With my daughter in particular it's been challenging. Sometimes she's so much like me it's scary other times I find myself looking at her wondering, 'who is this child?' She's starting to have these moments of distress. I think they are more significant than tantrums. They can last anywhere from five to thirty minutes. In those minutes she is incomprehensible and inconsolable. She is usually screaming and crying,...

"It's been too hard living but I'm afraid to die, cause I don't know what's up there beyond the sky." (c) Sam Cooke  Earlier this month, marked four years since my Mama passed. Her funeral was held on this very day in 2013. It's been a tough four years, adjusting to her physical absence. That change has been the hardest to accept, but it's the little things that get me through it. Like how my heart still skips a beat whenever I see her car on the road, a 2002 silver Subaru Forester. Or whenever I hear 'Teddy's Jam' on the radio in the car while I'm driving, some of the best car dancing moments I can recall because of that song. I know if I can adapt to this change, nothing else is insurmountable. But recently the changes have just been coming so fast, it's almost hard to catch my breath! My first baby, my cousin Chip went away to school in Arizona a few weeks ago. He was the first person I saw grow and develop before my eyes, ...

I'm not sleeping well tonight. I am worried about my son. In the dream that woke me up, I'm in the back seat of the car, my uncle Darryl is driving and my aunt LaJuanda is sitting beside him. I was telling them about the stories Ma would regale me with starring my uncle Darryl as the smart little kid she adored. As I was finishing up, we parked next to a preschool. The children were lined up on the stairs. I notice my son is one of the kids. I observe that he is well-behaved and following directions, just like the other kids. His teachers call him down out of line and he comes down smiling, though he hasn't spotted me yet. He stops at the first teacher and shares his snack with her. Then he goes to the next teacher, and does the same. That teacher brings him to me, he offers me a square of his Chex mix, I accept and it was like suddenly, I was watching a play. The two teachers Izzy had greeted, were sitting at a picnic table directly in front of us. They were saying to eac...