Da 'umball tays da grace

It's been over two decades since my grandmother has left this earth. I paid homage to her by using her name as my daughter's middle name. I learned a lot of wisdom, humor and love from my grandmother. Now that was my ride or die until my summer year going into my junior year in high school. It's been that long, but I can still hear her heavy Geechee accent. One of her favorite sayings was, " da umball child tays da grace." Translated into English, "The humble child tastes the grace."

Now this colloquialism isnt hard to understand at all. I'm quite sure you have heard it many of times. If you're humble you will receive blessings. Hence tasting the grace. My friends I can tell you that grace and its friend mercy are always good to have around.

Even with my migraines and the 1 million, nine hundred thousand and twenty items on my mind, I had to get myself right for Kailee's school orientation today. I ironed her khakis with that heavy duty Niagra starch. She said she didn't want any creases. She's far from old school, because you know we would have had a crease so sharp it could have cut butter. I told her if she wanted to, I would add some extra curls to her hair. She declined.

Last night she took her time putting in her flexi rods, using certain sizes to get that look. I laid on the couch until the last moment to get ready. I took a migraine pill and filled my bootleg Yeti cup-- the Aladdin with ice, water and a fresh slice of ginger. I figured if I got sleepy during orientation, I would have 30 ounces of water to keep me up because of going to the bathroom. I packed her bags of schools supplies they wanted everyone to bring. Hand sanitizer, wipes, gloves, dry erase markers and Kleenex tissues. I called Kailee downstairs.

She looked different than she did yesterday. I bought her some costume jewelery while in Kohls. It was $5. It was a pair of cubic zirconia studs with a necklace with a "K" initial. Her first words were, "Thank you mom for the gift." I said, "You're welcome. Do you need help putting it on?" At first she declined, but later asked for assistance. When we got outside, I told her I have to take a picture of you. She humbly obliged.

It was mandatory for orientation that she wore her school uniform. She has to wear navy blue polos and khakis. Out of all the pictures I took of her I can see her maturity and independence present. We got to the school, she went in line to take her school pictures by herself. As we circulated the many stations, she struck up a conversation with everyone. When she meet her school administrator, she gave her a firm grip, introduced herself and said, "I aspire to become the class valedictorian." The administrator gave her a high five and had a conversation with her as I was signing her up for various activities.

When we got to another station, the principal looked at my baby's name and pronounced it incorrectly. You have to understand, my kid has been correcting people since she has been able to talk who says her name incorrectly. The funny thing is she still makes the same facial expressions and nods her head as if she is breaking down syllables as I taught her back then. She wasn't rude about the correction, but she got her point across and was able to get a laugh out of the situation. 

The administrator came up behind her, placed her arms on her introduced her to the principal and said, "Kailee said she is going to be the valedictorian of her class." Everyone encouraged her and gave her praises.

As we progressed in the line, I was prepared to pay $140 in fees. Yeah...high school is different. Only to be charged $40 for PE uniforms and a locker fee. The $100 was waived. #butGod. We finally got to the end of the stations to get her schedule. It dawned on me that I have a high schooler. Kailee had a biomedical class that we requested to be changed to Pre-Engineering. We had to make some changes to classes because of transfer credits. When we were finally done, we went outside and she chatted with her BFFs from middle school. What was so crazy is originally only one of them got in and now they are all attending the same high school. My daughter has been attending school with one of BFFs since first grade.

I asked Kailee last week if she wanted me to walk her into school on the first day, she said, "No. Not unless you want to mom." I smirked but felt some kind of way. But I couldn't. My kid will be 15 this year. In November, it will be 15 years that I delivered a baby girl that wasn't supposed to be here. The doctor told me that it would be hard for me to have children. That's what he said. Not that I was trying. But he said that to let me know in advance. Months later my deceased grandmother brought me a baby girl on my dreams. That baby girl on my dream looked exactly how Kailee Rebecca looked when she entered this earth on November 16, 2002 at 1:12 pm. 

I sent my baby's picture out to a few of my friends. One of the responses was
"Yes mam, always got her lifted in prayers from the enemy. Bless year even the more for her." My advice to you is, if you don't have praying, encouraging friends you don't have a friend.

As much as life has attempted to get the best of me, my eyes has always been in the prize. To be the best mother that I can be.  While using what I was taught. I can say that I have been blessed beyond measure by being humble. I raise my daughter to respectful, appreciative and 'umball. She's not into all the designer stuff. As a matter of fact, yesterday I bought her 4 pairs of sneakers from Burlington Coat factory for $120. All old school sneakers. Her first words was "thank you mom, but you don't have to get me all those shoes." When she was selecting her shoes, the first thing she looked at was the prices. I think she has this ball on budget thing down packed.

I know that the prayers of my ancestors have been answered. I pray that my child continues to assimilate what I teach her as well as I live a life that she can emulate for my grandchildren. I pray that I remain humble.

I send positive vibes and fervent prayers to the teachers, students, administrators for the upcoming school year.

Battle

   Margaree and Sadie always taught me to wash dishes by adding bleach to the water. We always had a bottle of cheap bleach and a bottle of Clorox in the house. The cheap bleach was used to clean out the trash can, wash dishes etc. The Clorox was for clothes only. Every couple of weeks, my skin would peel. I tried using gloves to wash dishes. It didn’t matter it peeled. I picked and I picked the dead skin off of one hand, until one day there was no more skin left in an area. It took a couple of days before I could use that hand without the pain.

Palmar Plantar Erythrodysesthesia is the medical terminology for hand and foot syndrome. This is a side effect of chemotherapy. Last week Thursday, Sadie had her usually flare up of hand and foot syndrome. It usually comes around on the last few days denoting the end of her chemotherapy cycle. Well the oncologist decided to increase her dosage of chemotherapy. This was her second cycle since ringing the bell ending radiation. This one was rough. Around Thursday of last week, the pain associated with hand and foot syndrome was beginning to be unbearable. She got an emergency appointment on Friday of last week. Her doctor increased her pains meds from 100mg to 300 mg. To combat the hand and foot syndrome, we attempted to keep her hands and feet moisturized. We’ve tried everything from Aquafor, Shea Butter, Coconut Oil, to Vaseline. The doctor recommended Crisco shortening. I went into Food Lion and purchased some.
The chemotherapy has in essence made all of her skin on her hands and feet peel off. The doctors told Sadie, that if she wants to go rob a bank she could right now, because she has no fingerprints. If you look at the surface of her hands and fingernails, they are dark but smooth.  She used to polish her nails to cover the change of color of her nails. But she has stopped, out of fear of her fingernails falling off. None have fell off though. I often catch her staring at her hands and feet, looking at how drastically they have changed within a few months. She used to make comments about how bad her hands and feet look, I told her nobody cares about that except for her. I reminded her that she was still able to use her hands and feet and she was still alive. The pain associated with this flare up last week was bad. Sadie made reference to going in the hospital to cope with the pain. She didn’t move out of her bed much. Walking on her feet was a burning, tingling painful sensation that she describes. Her hands had pain also. She couldn’t real touch anything and felt no feelings on her fingernails.

Sadie has been on chemotherapy since around January/February. Capectabine also known as Xeloda is the name of her medication. She takes the chemotherapy pills twice a day. Two pills in the morning and two pills at night. Fourteen days on. Seven days off. She is careful to coat her stomach well to prevent nausea. For the past 6 months, Quaker grits and Libby Corned beef is what she eats for those two weeks in the morning. One can of corned beef will last her 5 days that way I slice and bag it in the snack sandwich bags and freeze them. The corned beef, not the corned beef hash.

She only eats with plastic forks and spoons. The metal silverware, leaves a metallic taste in her mouth. When we go out to restaurants, we have to request plastic utensils. The servers often forget. We usually have to ask two times on the average. The waitress yesterday brought it back instantly, I gave her a good tip yesterday. I usually wait on her until she gets her utensils so we can eat together. At home we use paper plates and cups. Her food, we heat up in the toaster oven, regular oven or on top of the stove. We watch the expiration dates carefully. I learned how to cook a smaller pot now. We may have leftovers for a day at the most.

Yesterday after leaving the doctor, Sadie wanted to go out to eat. As tired as I was, we went to Outback Steakhouse. Even with the noticeable limp from the pain and the fact that she greased her hands 3 times from doctor’s office to Outback, she was determined to go out. I dropped her and Kailee off in front of the restaurant. At the table she said, she wanted to feel better so that we can go out to eat more like we used to before she got sick. Prior to her getting sick, we would eat out at this particular buffet every month. Sadie, Dollie and Kailee. We would sometimes invite other people with us, but no too often. That’s our place. While at the table at Outback, she asked me what I was getting, I told her I wanted  steak. I showed her a special menu. She ordered steak, baked potato and crab legs. As the waitress was taking our orders, I asked questions about the preparation of the food and its ingredients just to make sure, because it ain’t nothing but a thing for me to go home and whip her up a meal. I got a steak, salad and broccoli. My salad came. She was looking at it hard. I shared some with her. She kept on saying, “I ain wan eat all your food. I said, “Ma, get some more!” And that she did. Prior to cancer we would eat off of each others plate and drink behind each other like it was nothing. It was a point during this journey, that she didn’t want us to eat or drink after her. I squashed that. I told her that she didn’t have Ebola and to stop that. I always share something with her, real fast I’ll say “Ma, taste this!” I push it off to her so fast, that she can’t say no.

When her food came, it was too painful for her to scrap the walls of her baked potato, cut her steak or crack her crabs legs. I immediately took her plate, mixed up her baked potato, cut up her steak and cracked her crab legs. She said, “I’m sorry you have to do this for me. If I had known this, I wouldn’t have ordered it.” I told her to stop that. It was at the moment, that  I remembered an event that happened over thirty five years ago. I remember Sadie and I going to eat at the Trawler restaurant in Mt. Pleasant. It’s no longer opened. I remember having my ribbon in my hair, and my romper that every little girl wears that ties on the shoulders. Mama had an afro. I remember the distinct roundness to it. I was sitting next to mama without a care in the world. I felt so safe and happy. Mom had just cut my food up for me and I was eating. Then all of a sudden, the waitress spilled an entire tray of drinks on my mom and I. I even remembered how Sadie acted. Those words are unfit for a Sadiesm.

It was at that very moment, Sadie acted like an alley cat at that restaurant, that as long as she had life in her body she would protect me. There is no amount of money in the world that I can ever have that could repay her for all that she has done for me. It was puzzling why my mama was diagnosed with stage 2 stomach and stage 3 gallbladder cancer in December 2016. But then its unfair to say that when many people have lost their a love one to cancer. I won’t lie to you. I asked God why? I never got  sound answer. But I know that, he will never put more on us that we can bear. And if I had to be in battle, I would definitely want Sadie to be one of my soldiers. The cancer may have wounded her, but we are defeating this. We have to remember, there are many battles that take place for a brief moment and the there are some that last years. Regardless of the length of time, we seek victory. Victory is what I am claiming for her complete healing. While we are battling cancer, I just want mama to feel safe and happy like she made me feel that day at the Trawler restaurant. I want her to know that as long as I have life in this body, I will protect her. I am thankful for many of you that reached out to us during this time. I pray that you will be blessed as you have blessed us.

http://www.agirlworthfightingformemoirsthicksinglesista.com/

Pain is My Pleasure

Terrie Burns

Often times I search myself to find a new different me.  There is nothing wrong with me, but being complacent is not something that goes well in my life.  I like change for the better.  I change with each day, not with the seasons. That me that’s doing the searching was the same individual who gives the best advice to the worst of situations, but when I find myself walking in the same path as others with those problem shoes on, the advice I give for others doesn’t seem to come to mind. In fact no solution comes to mind, only the reluctance to dread over and over and over again over the temporary situation at hand.  By now I know that I have to go through, but I will never get used to it. I know what both my blessing and curse are. My curse creates my blessing.  I must hurt in order to express myself at times. My expression which is my blessing is writing. The thing I will never get used to is the way it feels when I hurt.

With proving the point, I lost track of the true purpose, the fact that it was supposed to be an accomplishment for myself and God. Instead I felt as I was looking my best sitting on the edge of a dunking booth.  Then that unexpected hit would soak me. Now I can laugh that off or give thanks for progress. But just to think that there was a time in my life where I cared what people thought of me or said about me. It threw me off focus, but it is now allowing me to get to my full potential. You have to have a story for a testimony.

I can recall in 1997, returning to college after being kicked out on academic probation.  This was when I started learning this thing called life. There are times in our lives where we feel we are invincible. Two years prior I had just graduated 6th in my high school class out of 206 students. I was accepted into college and I had my life planned out. Kids were not an option. To ensure that didn’t happen I vowed to remain a virgin until I was married.  I knew what I wanted to know, where I wanted to work, and how much I was going to get paid. I was Computer Science Major. I was going to get my degree in 4 years, work for IBM in Charlotte and climb the corporate ladder making six figures within 4 years of graduating. I had booked my flight of life, but didn’t see the layovers, delays or now that turbulence was going to happen.

Well needless to say, I don't work at IBM. I do have a kid and I’m not married. I did get a degree in computers. But what has remained consistently is my love for writing and me being a thick sista. When I am at my lowest and most hurtful points, I find pleasure in writing. It has been over 5 years since I wrote the majority of this piece. In fact all of this piece, with the exception of this paragraph. So much has changed in my life. I will tell my story in my blog, A Girl Worth Fighting For: Memoirs of a Thick Single Sista.

http://www.agirlworthfightingformemoirsthicksinglesista.com/