Quicksand

 

I was sitting at my desk, thinking about all the ---ain't no other way to put it but, SH*T I had to do. The list is so long, that I'm going to need to use an 8 1/2 by 11 sheet of paper. That sheet is either going to have double columns or an arrow pointing to the right with the words, "turn over" is going to be written in the smaller than normal last line of its margin. 

All of this was after a virtual breakdown on the other side of my Facebook inbox messages with Keith. I told him what was going on with me and my mental and he did what he does, which I love. He offered a vague solution with in-depth reasoning behind it. The man knows that I am an overthinker and his conversations feed it just enough for it to build up momentum and then crash into a brick wall--that often generates a solution for me. My thought process then generates a vine of creativity that sparks a flame. When that flame is lit, my thought pattern blooms into colorful murals of words in my head,  the fond memories of the highest pitch of laughter notes from my past, and the Tony-Award-winning reenactment of scenes from my childhood--which births my steps of healing; writing.

While checking my work emails, I began to write a recommendation letter for a student. I pulled up the link to access it. In order to complete the process, I had to go into an old system. While pulling up the old system, I saw another email that needed to be answered, I was about to reply to it, but I stopped. Then I remembered that I needed to check the response of another email I had sent earlier with a consult. Then my phone alert went off. I found myself inboxing someone and offering encouraging words. Then I remembered that I had to call someone back from yesterday whose call I missed. As well as check on an appointment for Kailee and me. Then I had a text message that I was supposed to write down a number that I needed to follow up with. And I kept on saying that I needed to call and check on so and so because I hadn't spoken to them in a while. And then I was supposed to check some personal emails that were left unanswered for over a week.  Pure frustration, and lack of focus with a sprinkle of a hint of anxiety, would not allow me to figure out which to work on first, so I didn't do any of them.

After all of that two childhood memories came to mind. I turned away from my work computer and opened up my personal computer and began to write. I remembered being in the garden of my grandparents' house in Huger. That's pronounced Hue-gee. I can recall that Friday afternoon we had arrived.  Something went on special at school that day, I couldn't remember what it was. Momma had my hair in some ponytails with navy blue and hunter green ribbons. I think every girl had that plaid skirt with navy blue, hunter green, and streaks of black. Mama had me coordinated with some navy blue knee-high socks and I rocked my navy blue hard bottom shoes that were purchased from Kassis and Brothers. All a result of having wide feet at a young age, that country barefooted life.

We somehow parked in the back of the house that day, instead of on the side of the house in the driveway. I remember mama's pale yellow Ford LTD with a few rust stains on the back, was parked strategically aligned with the tops of those sweet plum trees that I found myself under. I was feeling so cute, that I couldn't keep still. It had rained that day and it seemed that the sun peeked out to check out my fly. I could tell the ground was wet and avoided some puddles. I took one step after twirling around in my skirt, as soon as I was about to stick my landing,  I lost my ground partially on my right foot. I thought I hit a soft spot when actually it was quicksand. Within seconds, my entire right leg was submerged. In my rage of panic, as I began sinking, I remembered that if you were ever stuck in quicksand to "be still" and not panic and you could escape. I stopped fighting and I was able to pull myself out. I don't remember all the details of how I got out, but I do remember my navy socks and shoes were a color that was not in my skirt. All I could think of was if I had just kept my balance, how I would still be cute without the mess. But it wasn't just the balance, it was the lack of preparation for the unknown.

Then my mind went back to my middle school years, after the death of my grandfather. M grandmother moved into the city and was a resident of Joseph Floyd Manor. Her sister lived on the 11th floor. She stayed on the 9th floor. My auntie used a cane or walker at times. I loved when my granny cooked and I took the stairs up to her apartment. She had left the south and stayed up north for some time. When she returned home she had adapted to her northern traditions and despised those of the south that she had left behind. I adored the decorations in her apartment. She was flashy for her age. I often wondered how her younger days were, her beauty was evident and flawless in the past and then present. Her favorite meal was smoked oysters and grits. I took her food to her one day. She was in her bed, I got everything situated for her. During our conversation, I said, "Yes Ma'am" as any preteen would do who was reared by God-fearing elders would. She told me not to say that and gave her reasoning behind it, as she felt it was a southern thing and this newfound northerner was not having it. I told my granny about it, and she assured me that would not fly with her. One of the many contradictions of life was introduced to me. Damn if you, damn if you don't.

The next time I returned with dinner, my trained southern mannerisms blurted out the word, "Yes Ma'am" again, and boy did I get it. I can't remember everything, but I remember her saying, "Stop saying Yes Ma'am, you ain't no slave and I ain't a master!" That interaction never made sense to me until today. The fact that my aunt was dropping real jewels of wisdom for me before I became a woman with a degree, a family, a career, and extracurricular activities. The fact that a little chubby chick with dimples lost her stature temporarily in quicksand was a precursor.

Keith's words of advice were to "slow down eliminate distraction and focus." He reminded me that on a daily basis, I'm being pulled in so many directions. All because of using those damn words, my aunt yelled at me for saying "Yes Ma'am" to the point that I am sinking. The more I say it, the more and more I step into a batch of quicksand.  Thankfully, I have been able to be rescued time after time. But in order to truly rescue myself in this season, I have to "be still." Little did I know, that life would be based on many contradictions the older I get. Here at 45, the biggest contradiction of life is that as a black educated woman, I have to work hard, and show that I am capable of multitasking every plate handed to me, all while looking good at doing it, while today I feel like a complete mess inside.  And the mere fact that if I don't do it, I'm considered lazy and that's far from the truth as I know it. One thing for sure, two things for certain; in any solution, a mess is evident. In this season, an external mess is way better than an internal mess. I have to protect my beauty inside. The external I can always clean up. I write this as I prepare my untheatrical thoughts for that recommendation letter for my student.

#quicksand #weblog #agirlworthfightingfor #yesmaam #beauty #cotradictions

https://www.agirlworthfightingfor.com/2022/07/quicksand.html

Mashed

I can recall my days of being on "The Hill" in Huger, that's

pronounced Hue-gee. My grandfather died in 1987, after which my granny fell into a state of depression being in the house they built, then mostly all alone. Except for those times that we made our way over there for weekends and holidays. I only had the privilege of knowing, "Margaree" for 6018 days and Granddaddy for 3,894. But within those short times, the lessons taught and love displayed, I can never put a value on.

This week, Keith and I made our way to the Chef Store. I am a clearance Queen. In fact my siblings and I are the clearance kids. But I find the better deals and I call everybody to see if they want it. My  personal gift of love. Well Gerald, my oldest brother called to tell me about a case of chicken being on sale. I heard the "75" part. When we got there, I saw the boxes of chicken with "75" on them. We picked up two boxes. Before making our way on the chicken aisle, we picked up "hamburger meat" as I like to call it for $.75 per pound. So we assumed the chicken had followed suit. Keith had started calling people about the deal. I wanted to confirm, so I asked a worker and it was "75" dollars per case for a 40 lb box.  3 boxes and a big shame turned into one box of wings and 20lbs of Hamburger meat.

Today, I decided to cook an old school meal: fried chicken, pork and beans with rice. I wanted to try a buttermilk bath on the chicken. I washed, seasoned and marinated the chicken. In betwixt cooking the chicken, rice and pork and beans, I found time to make me a seafood bag. The Juicy Crab could never.

My first batch of chicken cooked too fast. I will admit it's been over a year since I fried chicken. I set the first batch to the side, because I realized it wasn't done.  I cooked the next batch on much lower heat. Then, I remembered the words Margaree had first said and what Sadie reiterated after she left me. Whenever I cooked chicken to ensure no one bit into raw chicken, "you have to mash it to see if it's done."

Fried chicken can look like it's done physically. Beautifully browned, then when we break the skin, we can see blood-- proving that it's still raw.

I began to "mash" each piece of chicken. You see, if the chicken is not done, when you mash the chicken you hear the grease "accelerate" to accommodate the extra juices from it not being done.  You know the sound of throwing frozen french fries into hot grease. The louder the noise, the rawer the chicken. If the chicken is done, you hear little to nothing.

It reminded me of how we see a person who looks good on the outside, but oh the insides! How the designer jewelery, clothing or well out together individual could be underdone.Those with the biggest bark are often the ones with the most emptiest insides.  Some choose to let the external beauty flourish, while the internal beauty is flawed. While some discover the process to become done-- with the raw pain and hurt that life has given them. In this season, I've learned to listen to the words from individuals more so than there actions. To be honest, nothing surprises me  as to what I see anymore, because the pandemic has kept us inside, but to hear what comes out  an individual's mouth is immeasurable. These days in the spoils of life, it seems life we are thrown in hot pot of grease. It's overwhelming, we often look for some form of rescue, which could be best compared to pulling the chicken out the grease before it's done. But if we remain steadfast as we are being "mashed", we will see all that uncooked mess in us is almost done, we just have to listen. I'm writing this as I'm sitting on the couch feeling the cool breeze of the ceiling fan, after cooking. 

#ItsDone #AGirlWorthFightingFor #WeBlogging #InThisSeason

We do what we have to when we have to

Today I packed up and checked out my baby from her freshman dormitory. My girl finished her first year of college and our GPA is looking real 3.7 ish...I will take it. She defied the odds and wasn't another negative statistic in the African American community. As I was waiting on my personal barista to take her Calculus Final, I  noticed  I was sharing the space with other mothers in this parking lot, who were waiting on their children as well. 

I woke up this morning and logged in to work. Cleaned out the truck of the first batch of items from her dorm that were in my truck since Sunday. I ignored Keith's offer of help and simply replied I got it. I didn't get it until this morning. Saying to myself, girl you dumb. I made my way to Orangeburg, and to my baby. Her roommate had left. The chaos was on the right side of the room. I took a few bites of my sandwich that  I stopped to get. I was hungry, but when I talked to Kailee, she mentioned that she didn't eat. Somehow, my hunger was irrelevant. My determination was to make sure, my daughter ate to be prepared for her final at 3:30 pm. I started packing the truck, taking the heaviest, bulkiest items first. As we were almost done, she got an email from her instructor stating that she could take the final early. I kicked it into overtime. We were done within 15 minutes and I reassured her to take her time with her final, I was going to sit in the truck or peruse the big City of Orangeburg as she took her final.

 I met a mother who was walking around campus with her baby in his cap and gown. My congratulatory words to both mother and child were highly reciprocated with words of thanks and that "my baby did it look." I spoke with another mother in which I could see the frustration on her face. Sis told me that she lived in Spartanburg. She works overnight. She worked a 10-hour last night and got off at 2 am. She took a nap, dropped the other children off, and headed her. She said she had to go to work tonight. Which entailed driving back to Spartanburg. Her frustration was that she had to go to work tonight and her daughter still hadn't packed everything and her space was almost gone in her SUV. The plan was to toss what couldn't fit. We chatted and encouraged each other. I met her there, but I left her there. I pray traveling mercies for my sister and a smooth night at work.

I saw a lot of Mamas today, only a few dads. They were driving the vehicles, hauling stuff out, etc..etc..

It made me think of the responsibilities that we have as mothers. From a single mother's perspective, it's rarely a time you can say no-- because we are all our children have in our minds. This mentality is usually that of protection. Not knowing what would hurt more; our, "No" or the disconnected parent's "No." The fact that we do what we have to when we have is often overshadowed by why we do it. The strength of a woman is often the "presumption" that we have to be strong, we must display perseverance and we must go on.

As we embark upon the Mother's Day Holiday, take a day ladies to celebrate your excellence, your uniqueness--celebrate you. Being a mother doesn't equate to giving birth physically, it's the mentality of caring for a child that isn't yours. Providing that motherly instinct when needed. The truth of the matter is I was a "mother" well before the day the doctors cut me on or about 1 pm on that Saturday, November 16, 2002. All those kids, I babysat, changed their diapers, and picked them up from school-- I may have been labeled "Auntie" but it added to my Mom resume.

Ladies, this is a note of appreciation, love, and unity for you. I know how it is. And by "it is" we can write an entire book series with several spinoffs. Hey Mama...hold your head up high. Take a deep breath and know that you got this. I know you are tired at times, frustrated, and torn between empathy and sympathy for the world. I wish you an early Happy Mother's Day. To those who are mourning your Mother, know that her greatness will remain an everlasting memory to you. She may not be here physically, but will always be with you spiritually. In fact, you see a new piece of her each day in you. I wrote this while I was in Orangeburg today and I am just now posting.

#agirlworthfightingfor

#webloggin

#Iwrites

#HappyMuddahsDay

https://www.agirlworthfightingfor.com/2022/05/we-do-what-we-have-to-when-we-have-to.html

Go For It

The last two nights we faced tremendous storms here in South Carolina. Accounts of power outages, severe weather--the weathermen indeed earned their coins.  In fact yesterday, in Moncks Corner, there was a tornado that was formed, but it didn't touch the ground.  Last night as I lay on the couch and listened to the "storm." There were moments when the lightning was so sharp and sounded as if it was about to hit home. There were moments when the thunder rumbled and the ground rattled. There were moments when the wind and rain fought over who would be the loudest and strongest. I at first was watching television, but the constant reminders of the storm and the warnings from the weathermen got tired. I turned it off. Not take the warnings in vain, but it seemed overwhelming. I just felt that it was overkill. I mean I know I was in the midst of a storm. Everyone knew what they personally were enduring and was dealing with it in their own way. I'm old school. Everything was off, except the hallway light. I had my cell phone in my hand, but when that loud crack of lightning hit, that phone got tossed on the couch. When the lightning or thunder would subside, I would pick up the phone again.  I was going against the Southern code. Knowing good and well, if my maternal grandmother was around, that phone would not have been anywhere in my vicinity  After a few strolls of Tik Tok and a couple of games of online spades, I eventually went to sleep after I felt the storm had reached its peak. I was used to the storm and thought I knew what to expect.

This morning, I awoke to the sun peeking through the blinds. I didn't look outside to see what it looked like. I just knew that the sun was confirmation of what was, and was no longer. That what the weathermen said was going to happen, didn't happen to me personally. If I didn't go through the "storm" these last two days, I wouldn't have necessarily known there was a storm. That there were tornadoes, power outages, flooding, or wind damage. I mean, I am sure there are signs of visible damage that's out there, that I haven't seen. Hopefully, power and internet have been restored to those who lost it. Hopefully, those who lost sleep the last two nights will gain it tonight. Hopefully, the damage is minimal for those who experienced it. Hopefully, those who lost peace because of the storms will find it. Today should serve as a reminder that "trouble doesn't last always." It should remind you of the many storms in life you weathered and survived.  I write this as I am sipping the last few drops of coffee in my "go for it" mug.  To whoever is reading this, the storm is over now. Assess your damages, begin your repairs and live as if nothing happened. Go For It. 

#GoForIt #AGirlWorthFightingFor

Scrambled

Over the past week, I began declaring openly the same prayer, mantra, or spell, as some may say. It started with "show me how much better it" and ended with "I am ready." Well, let me say from April 25th to May 1st- God, the Universe, My ancestors, and guardians have been shaking things up. My life has genuinely been scrambled.

In a normal state of mess, I would try my hardest to fix things and people. Over the past week, my mind, body, soul, and discernment urged me to let things be. It seems like, over the past week, my mindset has changed. My embracement of peace is so divine. I can't think of an eclectic way of explaining it. Some of it hurt, but the rest I am in love with.

My focus on things that were on the backburner has now been pulled to the front, and those things that I had been eyeing its completing cooking progression have directly been placed on the warming spot on the stove. I truly learned that no response is a response.

What was so crazy is that as I was cooking breakfast this morning, I had a revelation. I cooked a turkey and cheese omelet with some turkey sausage. The means of preparation for this meal took a lot to get the finished product. I first sautéed some chopped onions, bell peppers, and mushrooms. I usually tear a piece of wax paper and chop my veggies on my cutting board. After chopping my veggies and my turkey meat, the way wax paper was torn and soggy; I could no longer use it after a few flips. There was nothing unused that you could use.This confirmed that some things, some people, some places could no longer serve a purpose in my life because of their state, so I needed to discard them.

I tossed in 3 turkey sausage links as my veggies were sautéing. It didn't take long; I removed the sausage and placed it on a plate.

My next focus was to cook my eggs: my country, ghetto bougie self, only uses free-range brown eggs at this point in my life. I handled the eggs with delicacy. Knowing that the egg's shell is delicate, I have to crack it to get the desired content, but I have to make sure that it isn't exposed before being ready. Seeing the yokes of the eggs in the bowl reminded me of the delicate nature in which we have to handle life's situations. When we open up to specific people or see them for who they are, we don't know what's inside waiting to come out and when it does, how do we cook or handle it?

Finally, I completed the omelet by adding my remaining ingredients. Before I plated the omelet, I threw those three pieces of turkey sausage back on the burner. I needed to reheat it, I know it was warm, but I wanted it hot. This reminded me of revisiting things that I started in the past that I needed to finish while the fire was burning.

This meal was actually for Keith. I returned to the stove and decided that I wanted just a scrambled egg for myself. The frying pan was still greased with olive oil. The burner was still warm. I cracked the egg in the corner of the pan, where a nice pocket of oil was. I didn't turn it back on the burner. The egg cooked just fine without the extra heat and any other additions. Symbolic of often our need as humans to just let things be is evident. Everything that we need is there. The egg may not have cooked as fast as it would have, had I turned on the heat, but it cooked.

I write this as I take the last fork full of my scrambled egg. For those struggling with life, the conditions in which we conquer life don't matter. It's ultimately the finished product that does—prayers for your journey in life. I am ready for mine.

#agirlworthfightingfor #scrambled

Roasted and Salted

Every Wednesday at 5 pm, I have my weekly meeting held on Teams with my Boss. He lives in Washington state. I have only seen him on camera and that's far and few. In fact, he was out of the office for my original interview. I have never met him in person. My Wednesday around 4:59 pm he will send me an email telling me to call when I am ready. If he doesn't type a message he will send a gif. Well, today he typed, "good afternoon, feel free to call anytime, day or night. Operators are standing by."

 

I took a swig of water after finishing up a handful of pumpkin seeds and called him. He answered on the 4th ring. I always say Hey <his name>! He also says well Good Afternoon in his jovial voice. After we asked each other how we were doing, he said that he had a rough day but he was looking forward to our meeting. He said regardless of how you feel Terrie, you always bring energy to our calls. I was looking forward to that to cheer me up. He said every Wednesday that we meet it makes him feel happy. He inquired if it was a Southern thing or the fact that I'm a mom. I said to myself--- SHEED Kailee be getting it!🤣

I gave homage to my first full-time job after college; Suncom. I told him how we were provided mirrors that we hung on our cubicles and we were trained to smile while talking. That brought enthusiasm to the call. We went on to discuss the pros and cons of customer service. Those customers called me everything except Sadie and Jerry's third-born. Those customers that I wanted to turn their phones off and roll by their houses. But one key thing that we both agreed on was that anger from those customers was already there. As a rep, I just happened to be in the wrong place and at the wrong time. My reaction depended on which way the conversation would go. At first, until I got it...I was nasty. But then I learned the nice, nasty way of doing things.

In fact, it reminded me of a customer at another job that I took the call from a now-deceased co-worker. He made threats of coming to our place of employment. I told my co-worker to tell him I will meet him in the middle of Hwy 17 with some flip flops and a tank top before he transferred the call to add a little humor to the situation. After I took the call, I tried to be reasonable with him. But the yelling and all that continued. I finally said to him, that neither myself nor my coworker had done anything to him. When he was ready to talk in a calm, reasonable matter and was ready for a resolution, he could call me back. I provided him with my phone number and disconnected the call. 

He called back several minutes later, apologized and the issue was resolved. He explained to me the "why." Needless to say, a few days later, my department received some gourmet cookies from San Francisco. Now you know I grew up in a house where we talked about roots and all that stuff. I passed on the cookies.

I'm sitting here eating my pumpkin seeds as I type this message.  On the label of the package, it reads "Roasted and Salted" We have to learn to not take things personally and learn from our experiences.  We must not always feel the need to "ROAST" an individual because we feel "SALTY" about a situation.  These pumpkin seeds are small in size, but rich sources of things that are essential for survival. At times we can't reciprocate what's being given to us in some situations. Sometimes walk away and revisit. Other times do nothing. The people that we look for the most praise may never give it to us. But it's the people that we least know when they give us praise, it's greatly appreciated. Take this seed and use it as a source for your peaceful bloom. Use Good Sense.

#AGirlWorthFightingFor

#WeBlogg

https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/2906878319470775573/1869870001178346652

One

Today marks my one-year anniversary with my employer. On December 31, 2020, my employer of almost three years laid me off, due to my project not being renewed. I was told that I could go to another project, but that didn't happen. Dates kept getting pushed back. Communication became null. For the first time in decades, I found myself without a full-time job. Sad that I left a job where I worked with an amazing group of people. I actually had I job that I liked. But there was truly nowhere for me to go and maintain that level of enjoyment. Sometimes we're at jobs or in situations, where it requires us to look beyond the good to realize the bad.

I had great job leads, interviews, and offers. I declined certain jobs because I remembered past jobs and vowed never to repeat that cycle. I was on a mission for PEACE at this stage in my life. I had worked hard for organizations and disrupted my personal life. I made sacrifices all for the sake of being labeled a good/hard worker for companies that definitely deserve it. In fact, I referred to them as "plantations". I stayed out in the field doing most of the work. I never had the desire to be "with the house crowd" which is usually the reason why people often question who did I think I was. I didn't think but knew who I was and what I did and could do. So I continued my searches and endured the rejections.

Most importantly, I remembered my prayers and his promises. For years I always said, I desired a work-from-home job, my baby to attend college without paying a dime, and my declaration of love with someone who gets me and got me.

For one job I interviewed for, I did everything by the book. They loved my personality and were impressed by my skills; I never heard anything. I recall a prayer for me, and the words weren't "give her this job" but "give her the job that you see fit."

Not working gave me a time of reflection and availability. Things fell into place. I never skipped a beat with anything. I started doing some consulting. I found myself revisiting some old bridges, only to realize that nothing changed. In actuality, it was time to burn that bridge to ensure that I never crossed it again. I discovered a new me that saw a different me and I liked her.

During those few months, my support was amazing. There was never a conversation that didn't start off with asking if I needed anything and before the dial tone, the assurance to call if indeed I did. It was during this time of so-called defeat, I experienced many victories.

Then low and behold, while being petty on Facebook, I was contacted by a friend. They asked if I was working, and I said, "no." Weeks later I was offered a job working in higher education and at home. Those who know me, know how I love higher education, particularly the student side. I'm a motivator, but I give it to you straight with no chaser. I want to see you succeed. But at the same time, if you don't want my motivation, I conserve my energy for those who do. These days, it's easier to walk away from certain storms, Instead of weathering them.

I type this post while sitting in front of my work computer in my office at home, waiting on my coffee to finish brewing. Cheers to perseverance, tenacity, and faith. Thanksgiving to those that saw fit to whisper my name in a prayer. I am a true and living testimony that "I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging for bread." To anyone reading this long post and you are in a season of uncertainty, hold on. Someone is watching. Someone is standing in the gap for you. It's a temporary setback for an enormous comeback.

#itsmyanniversary #ContinuedBlessings #continuedprayers #bestillandprosper #agirlworthfightingfor