TARRY

I left the chiropractor this morning and was headed home. I stopped to get a salad from one of my favorite spots in the area. I walked in expecting to see the usual friendly old lady behind the counter, instead there was someone else who I never interacted with before. She made it known that they were out of large lids for the drinks. I told her it was no problem. She asked my name for the order and I gave it to her. I received my  drunk cup and proceeded to load up on ice and lemons, as I waited for my order.

I observed the employees preparing the food and figured out who had my ticket. The sister made my food correct and passed it down the line. I didn't get my order quick enough to my liking. I was rushing. I kept on looking at my ring doorbell to peep the scene of parking spaces. Someone was in the space that I deemed as my park and I was a little salty. I figured if I hurried, I would have a chance to get another good park. I lost track of my order. A young lady came from kitchen and handed my bag after confirming my order.

I turned around to put my extras in my bag, since I didn't have a lid and noticed how the cashier had spelled my name on my ticket. It read, "TARRY."

I was in the vicinity of Target and decided to head there. I had some items I needed to return and items to purchase. As I approached a stop sign, I saw an employee pushing in a trail of buggies. Now for those of you who don't use the word buggy; it's a shopping cart.

He immediately put his hand out to tell me to stop. I was actually stopped, but I was about to make a left down an aisle in search of a park. In my mind Between, I could make my turn. Between the brightness of the red from the stop sign, the employees' uniform and the buggies, it symbolized a warning, so I stayed in place.

I really felt this young man doing his job and me waiting 3 seconds extra was going to "delay" me from getting a good park. Not to mention, there was a car facing me, who I "expected" was going interfere as well. When the employee was clear from traffic, the car actually let me turn.

As I drive down the aisle, I see no "good" parking spaces. I make a right in between some vacant spaces and head up the next aisle. I see nothing ahead of me. I began to "linger into the expectation" that I was not going to find a good spot and had to walk a long distance to the entrance.

There was a car ahead of me. I saw a car backing out of a space. My first thought was "Damn, they're going to get that good space! If I was only a few seconds earlier!" I continued down the aisle, only to discover that the car in front me passed by the space and no other car had entered the entrance closest to the space.

I'm writing this as I am parked in the third space, from the first aisle immediately behind the designated handicap parking spaces. I just looked at my ring and discovered my space is free. I am "tarrying" as I type this.

For those who feel like you have been delayed in life, you are not. In essence if I had not obtained the close space or my favorite space, all that I set out to accomplished was going to get done. It may have been a little late because I had to walk a further distance. It may have been a little rocky, because I had to carry some heavy things and I didn't have a direct route to a door.

But truth is, I still can get those things in the door even if I had to make more than one trip. So I say to you, be positive as you are lingering in your expectations as to what you desire in life. It may not turn out how you want it, when you want or where you want it, but it will turn out for your good. 

In the meantime: Wait. Abide. Stay in or at a place of peace, knowing that you will get all that your are supposed to get. TARRY.

BUMP

It's been a while since I wrote. It's my therapy. There were times when I felt like I was on edge of a panic attack or breakdown, but that smooth writing pen and cute journal allowed me to put my thoughts and make sense of my current life's situation. Over the past few months of losing my full-time job on December 31st with nothing lined up was concerning. I had my moments were I was scared. All I could think of was Kailee graduating, college tuition, and my plans for life that were delayed when my mom was diagnosed with cancer.

I wasn't totally without income when I was laid off.I was  working part-time and opened up my own consulting company. I had a plan. I didn't put it out there like I was supposed to and everytime I was, something would happen. I was able to secure a few contracts for  months in advance. I was collecting unemployment and never skipped a beat.

I interviewed with a few companies. Even with needing a job, I refused to work at another organization working 60 hours of my good work ethics a week only to be rewarded with an off brand ham during the holidays.One company seemed too eager to hire me. I came up with an excuse for the second interview. One company wanted me to do a project, which was more intense than my capstone project for graduate school, I came with an excuse for that too. I couldn't tell you how many connections were involved from people being from Charleston to someone's mother being a Zeta I experienced. I was very confident that something would fall through.

I never heard back from these confident,  knock up out the box interviews, even after sending thank notes and damn near baking a pound cake for the office. I embraced my downtime. Low and behold, I was being petty posting on Facebook one day and a friend/former coworker reached out and asked if I wanted working. What was funny is she said, she hard ever gets on Facebook, but she did that day.. I told her I wasn't working, I sent her my resume and the rest was history. I got hired in less than a month. Back in higher education, working from home PERMANENTLY!

My intentions today were to drop Kailee off to work, grab breakfast and journal on the Battery. My acid reflux was really showing her arse this morning. The heat and eating don't go too well with me. I realized that I didn't really eat that much other than a few of those air fryer Argentine shrimp I made last night after lunch yesterday. So now gas and acid reflux having a good old time.

I wanted grits and sausage. I pulled up and went with cheese grits and eggs instead. My diverted intentions were now to get a cup of coffee and snackin bacon. The drive thru was long. I pulled in a park, grabbed my purse, threw on a baseball cap and mask and scurried to beat the other two individuals who had my same thoughts. I was next in line. I saw Sister Girl from the drive thru behind the register. She was gathering the customer in front of me food. She totaled his order and received an error message. She tried all she could to get the system working, it just wouldn't. To add to her frustration, she was told the grill was down. She finally made a clutch decision to only accept cash, since the credit card machine would not work. By now the line inside was just as long as the one was outside. When she made the announcement "cash only", that cleared all except for the customer in front of me, myself and two other individuals behind me. 

I placed my order and went on a whim and ask for bacon, she confirmed the grill was still down. I only ordered coffee. I accepted what was going and made do. Sister Girlnwas already frustrated  and what good would that have done to be mad at something out of her control. Sister Girl then discovered that the orders weren't being transmitted to the back to be made. After another sigh of frustration, she locked the door and no one else could enter. There were people approaching the door, she told them what happened and they walked off with a plethora of negative comments.

She went back and she fixed my coffee last. She told me she was making it and I told her no problem. She asked if I wanted everything that came with it. She told me the ingredients and I frowned, she assured me it would be good. I confirmed she remembered my almond milk. As she was finishing up a customer was locking the door for her. He told a few people the lobby was closed. They walked off as another lady walked up and saw what happened. The door was locked. She remained outside the door. I finally got my coffee and she said, "I'm going to walk you out so that I can Iock the door."

The customer was waiting, Sister Girl told her that the lobby was closed. Her "Karenish" response didn't phase Sister Girl at all. I saw the preparation of a "Oh I got time today" conversation, but the customer stormed off. Sister Girl had a venting session with me for a few seconds. We laughed at the way the customer stormed off, but I assured her that inspite of, it was going to be a good day. Sister Girl told me to come back to get some bacon on her later.

I got in my truck and headed to my spot. I began to think of my life and how truly blessed I am despite of the many bumps I encountered over the course of my life. In one week, the child that I was not supposed to have. The child that I was raising wrong. The child that would call me on my desk phone at work to get help with her homework. The child that I would take to work and lock up in my office with food and books is graduating, ranked 16th out 81 students in her class with a 4.450 GPA.

In preparation for our new chapter of life the blessings have been flowing. I'm at point in my life where I am truly reaping what I sowed and so is my child.What is amazing is that, I can remember when people doubted my parenting skills. I can remember when people told me that I would be miserable because I stood true to my beliefs and fought for others. I can remember the pain of feeling used. I remember accepting "Graveyard" relationships as my grandmother would call them. You know the ones, where you always put out and they always take in. Nothing ever comes out of Graveyard, it only goes in.

It wasn't until my latter years, that I adopted reciprocity in relationships. I now treat people the same way they treat me. I give them the same energy they give me. I realized that I am not for everyone. I am a special individual who is sensitive in many realms, particularly a spiritual realm. Everyone don't deserve it. Everyone ain't gonna get it.

I have been so full and just amazed by the love and outpouring of the individuals in my live as Kailee prepares for college. To hear people say I have your back and truly have your back is a blessing. To have conversations with people and talk about things that you need to do or need, and to get a call back and it's done, is mind blowing.

I'm eating the best damn serving of eggs I had since hatches was a saw and drinking this butter pecan latte, as I serve as living witness to surviving the bumps in life. I went thru those bumps for this season. The roads were rough, but they eventually even out and it's smooth ride. There we're many bumps that I could have avoided, because the signs were there. Then there were those bumps, that I rolled over on an angle but caused damage in the long run, but I repaired those damages.

To whomever reads this, this is your encouragement.

Marked Down

The way the sun rose this morning was anything less than amazing. I figured out what was for breakfast. I said I would get some grits to eat the left over shrimp and gravy in the fridge. I headed to Bojangles. I remembered not to order that sausage patty 😬! I got to the window it was the same sister that last time that I was there who was upset with scheduling. Over her shoulders was the same brother, finessing those biscuits, laying eggs, cheese and the sexiest slices of bacon in the 843 area code. My total was a $1.43. I handed over one of my many gift cards I've received throughout the years. This time sister girl was in a good mood. We didn't have a conversation because we she had to take an order. Our interaction ending with that universal head tilt, nod, wave equivalent to "Aight Sis!" I'm glad I didn't stereotype her based on our last interaction. That should hit home for somebody.😏

I remembered that I had to go buy some ingredients to make Keith's Sunday meal: lima beans with smoked turkey and baked chicken. Analyzing what stores I wanted to hit, I realized that my recently purchased grits would be cold and my bougie self does not, I repeat does not eat reheated grits.

I made my way to Dunkin Donuts. I ordered some more Avocado toast. I didn't see that refresher drink I usually ordered, so I went with sweet tea. When I got to the window, I paid for my meal. A sister came out the back and we started talking. She asked me how I liked the Avocado toast. I said I liked it and yesterday was my first time. She said I had to come see who was at the window, because by your voice I could tell it was one of us. <Insert I feel you girl point> We then went on to talk about recommendations from my next order, my journey of giving up snackin bacon and we shared our good byes until next time.

Since I enjoyed The Battery yesterday, and I have a lot of stuff to do today, my early morning adventure is hitting the markdowns at the grocery stores. I've been doing this for years. Now, I even got Keith asking me what deals I found. If I find something good, I usually take pictures and send to my peoples to see if they want it. If it's a deal I can't pass by, I will purchase and drop it off to them.

My love for markdowns is a fascination of mine. Not only does it have to do with budgeting and stocking the freezer, it sheds light on life. At one point and time that pack of chicken or those pair of shoes were placed on that shelf or rack at full price with the intentions to sell quickly, in which some did. Some people purchased the items without cost or looks in mind. It was something that they wanted or deemed needed. It could have been an impulse buy in which those shoes are still in the closet never worn or that meat sat in the fridge or freezer too long.

The remaining items went on sale, and some items were sold. Someone took into consideration  how the items looked and the cost, before making a commitment. 

Then those  items that didn't sell as fast as the others went on a final sale. These items labeled differently. They are often bright stickera showing the original price marked through and the final price. These items are non-returnable because the shelf life is coming to an end.

I look for those bright labeled few items each weekend. Why? Because those items are equivocal to people in my sight. Each day I see my single friends share experiences of finding the right mate, hopes of walking down the aisle and wanting a good relationship. But society tells us that we have to do it before a certain age.. Having being single for over five years before entering my current relationship. I felt just like that marked down pack of chicken on the self. I knew my worth, but I let others put a price on me. I'm supposed to be this by that. But what I started looking at was how much I saved by avoiding some relationships and I was grateful I wasn't picked up my some.

I type this as I'm sitting in Harris Teeter parking lot, finishing off my sweat tea. Just because you're older, you have kids, you've had failed relationships, someone won't let you bury your past or you don't feel as you have arrived, doesn't not take away from the fact of your original worth. The fact that what we do with these items vary based on when, why, how, and who purchased them.

Someone is going to see you and your worth, and be amazed that they found a premium being for little or nothing being looked over time and time again. They will know what to do with you, because it's something that they wanted or they were looking for.

Hey sis! Hey bro! Someone is coming to scoop you off the shelf.

#thinkingoutloud #biggirlswrite

Detours

On my weekend morning me time adventure, my thoughts were preoccupied with breakfast. Beginning this month, Kailee and I decided to change our eating habits. Kailee would cut out the majority of her carbs, junk food, eat more salads and have a few cheat days a month. I would go  the pescatarian route. I noticed the things I did pre-40s hormonal imbalances times aint working like they used to. Today would have been a perfect day for some bacon. My southern lunch lady arm mindset reminiscent of Saturday breakfast made me want bacon, sausage, grits, eggs or that left over piece of fried fish or shrimp and gravy, Granny had cooked embracing her Catholic lifestyle to attend local schools a century ago. But that was not happening.

I'm riding down Savannah Highway thinking of what I can eat and all the places that come to mind, the foods that come to mind have meats that are not within my pescatarian scope. I finally decide to go to Dunkin Donuts to try the Avocado toast, which was actually good.

As I make my way home, I remember I have a meeting at 11 am. I needed my me time at my thinking spot: The Battery. It was raining but I could see the sun peaking out. The birds were still flying as normal. I saw a few fish poke their head out the water, the animals didn't let the rain stop them, so why should I?

My usual route was unavailable due to construction being done at the Battery. I took several side streets until I found a path that would lead me to where I needed to be. The parking was ridiculous and I contemplated heading on home. Instead I made a u-turn and followed the signs that were posted almost on every block. Those signs were bright orange with the word "DETOUR" across it. When I got back to where I originally started, a vehicle had moved and I now had a good spot.

As I'm typing this I am finishing up my drink from Starbucks that the barista added lemonade that I didn't ask for, but I thoroughly enjoyed. In life we have habits that we need to break. In life we have to stop focusing on wants and start focusing on needs. What worked for granny and those, won't work for you. Oh a word to the wise our Elders ain't always right! We are in different times and must adapt to these different situations.

Sometimes our mindset is so crippled by what we are used to, that the universe throws DETOURS in life to experience new things and to break habits. We cannot limit ourselves or our children  in these times. Do something different. Explore new things. Be open minded. Follow the signs. Life gave me a refreshing cup of lemonade this morning...😏

Mawning! 

#thinkingoutloud

Clappery

Clappery

Sir please understand….I’m not a video vixen. I do understand that I am one of millions who possess the tenth wonder of the world…a big butt.

I can remember being 10 years old, my mother and grandmother coordinated their efforts and purchased me my first long line girdle. It came from Peggy's. It was black. I can still see it folded in that shiny thin brown paper bag.  I was confused as to why. I thought this was something that only women wore. On Sundays, I saw my mother and grandmother transform they bodies into to effortless silhouettes. The foundations of this old school “snatched” as we call it today were a long line brazier, long line girdle, two large safety pins and a long line slip. The brazier straps left permanent scars and indents on my mother and grandmother’s shoulders. To put this brazier on… let me use the shorten term for those who aren’t following me. To put this bra on, you have to understand the dynamics of this piece of garment. The bra was long enough to cover your back. It would graze the top of your hips. The bra reminded me of a straight jacket kind of. You would put this on, then connect about 20 hooks in the front. You then made sure your breasts were in the right compartments. I swear my mama and granny breasts looked like armed torpedoes. After putting on hosiery, the girdle was next. It sometimes took two people to help get the girdle up. Pins were used to secure the girdle and bra on the sides. The get up was adorned by a slip.

I wanted to know why I had to get a girdle. The response was so that you wouldn’t look “slack.” The fact of the matter is at a young age my hips were that of a grown woman. My butt had a mind of its own. My granny would say, “Dollie ya boonkey is move so.” Pure Clappery at age 10. The way my butt moved , it was if I had my own theme music. It took time to get adjusted to wearing a girdle. In my mind, it was only appropriate to wear when I wore a skirt or dress. My grandmother wanted me to wear it every day. She wanted me to wear it when I wore dungarees. I remember one time wearing them under my jeans, and having to explain to someone what the bends and creases were in my jeans. It was the crease showing where the girdle ended. I lied. I told her I wore bicycle pants under my jeans. She wanted to know why I did that? Girl bye. Mama told me I didn’t have to wear my girdle under pants, but I knew when it came to skirts and dresses I had to wear that damn girdle. The girdle was introduced to me at a young age to shape my body. I don’t know how, I was shapely at a young age. The girdle trained my body to fall in place, where the laws of gravity were denied.

What I disliked about that girdle was the fact that it was hot in the summertime and it was extra clothes I had to take off when it was time to go to the bathroom. For longevity, my girdle never saw the insides of a dryer.  That girdle had to keep my composure intact. Even with the girdle doing its job, the one think it could not disseminate was the eyes and imagination of a man. I remember being around 12 years old walking down King Street with my grandmother. We were enroute to Edward's Nickel and Dime store to get those chicken wings and fries. I had an admirer. I remember having on a jeans skirt walking a head of my granny. I was so free until I was fool. I can distinctly hear my grandmother who has been deceased for over twenty years say, “When ya get done, dat’s a twelve year old child who boonkey ya lookin at ya! Mine fa ya ass go da jail!” I don’t know who was embarrassed more, me or him.

As I got older, I was delightful I didn’t develop large breasts like other females in my family. Lord knows having double D breasts and a large butt was an invitation to being a whore in someone’s eyes.  Sad but the truth, women who are curvaceous in these days and times are cherished on a different level than the average chick. With the likes of reality television shows in which women don’t get noticed unless their breasts can stand attention on first command, their waist is about the size of their neck side or smaller and their buttocks looks like a perfect Georgia peach spray painted life size on the side of an abandoned building. For the very thing that my maternal guardians tried to conceal, women are paying thousands of dollars to get. I can recall an article about K. Michelle having to have surgery to remove her butt implants because of the pain she was having. She stated that her legs could not support her butt. As a result she was having Lupus like symptoms. She was scheduled to have surgery this month, I pray healing virtue to you my sister.

Here it is over 30 years later, a few years ago the Lord heard and answered the prayers of us curvaceous women and placed it on someone’s heart to create Spanx. I swear if it was possible to shout in the middle of this sentence and let you see I would. In the words of Toni Braxton, I can breathe again! Spanx doesn’t make you lose weight. It minimizes the clappery action when your walking and it creates a smooth silhouette.

If I never learned anything with the men that I have dated, they could give a damn about girdles.  In fact, we as women beat up ourselves over looks. When the average guy is extremely satisfied with what he sees. I have plenty of male friends, because I’m cool like that. I never crossed the line, never will. There are guys who are on this earth that I am have profound relationships with that are more in-depth that my Burns/Baldwin lineage. I appreciate them for our levels of communication and heart to heart talks. I swear we tell each other trade secrets of the opposite sex. I was told a time or two that a man can determine a woman’s shape by looking at her. To further explain, a dude saw a picture of me and said, “ I could tell you had an ass from the front.” Then another dude told me out right, “ you can lose anything, but please don’t lose that backside.” I questioned what would happen. He said he would leave. Well he never made it past the preliminary stages.

There are men who study the physicalities of a female. Big Beautiful Women or BBW are really being recognized these days. I never had a problem attracting the opposite sex, but now…Hunty…BBWs are taking over. That same fat chick that got also sorts of curve balls in high school is now desired by many. What made this happen? Reality television shows? More confident women? I don’t know…I don’t care. But please hear me when I say that we are more than the dimensions of our bodies. Yesssssss….I have a waist that’s smaller than my hips. But I also have conversation and I am highly intelligent. No I’m not going to not get to know you and begin a sexual relationship with you to possibly live out a scene in your favorite rapper's video. No, I am not the only chick with a big butt. There is no way for me to hide this. Therefore I will not. There will be some days when I want to wear some tight jeans, a fitting dress or a short skirt. On those days, I give you permission to look, but please don’t yell out a “Goooo-red!”, a “Gewd Gawd”, or a “Goddamn!”. Some women like that attention, some do not. Use your inside voices if possible or go old school and hit us with a, “ You are one bad woman” line. That way I can give thanks and walk off to my personal theme music in my head. Make your approach respectful and you get a good response when approaching a woman. Don’t get mad if your disrespectful is matched. No we’re not stuck up, we just want a different approach because we’re not that chick. I can’t speak for all, I’m speaking for me.

If it was possible, women with big butts, should have a label across our backsides saying, “ please handle with extreme caution, beware of clappery.”

Terrie L.” AuthenticGeechieGurl” Burns

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ttp://www.agirlworthfightingfor.com/

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.

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