A lupus survivor's cerebrations on living day to day...

    follow me on Twitter

    remembrance

    This is the beginning of my recording of memories, No order just thoughts flowing through my head, The earliest event of significance I recall, was the bus trip I made from Somerville, Tennessee to Virginia Beach for my third Christmas. It was my first time seeing a lot of snow as we passed through snow capped mountains. This Christmas was also the beginning of my love of Barbie dolls. I didn’t receive one that year, but my older cousins did and I became enamored with the beautiful doll and all of her stylish clothes and shoes. I don’t even remember what I got from Santa, but I remember the impeccably tailored hounds tooth coat and cap that I wore on my trip. The red satin lining made me feel like a million dollars. Even at that age I recognized fashion and quality. Later Christmases Santa would bring me my own Barbies with fashions just like my mommy wore. My favorite was Julia outfitted in her nurses uniform just like Diane Carroll on her hit TV show. She was a black doll and she had the same features as the original Barbie. I just never liked the fact that none of the dolls had my skin color. They were either pink or dark brown, never tan like me. I have countless sweet memories from my childhood living with Grandma. I was born in Detroit, MI, but when I was about eight months old my mother moved back with me to Somerville, Tennessee. Unfortunately my grandfather was dying from a cancer that had gone too long undiagnosed. My mother had the chance to spend his last days with him. After he passed, my grandmother’s role changed from taking care of a dying husband to taking care of a growing grandchild. My mother started a new chapter in her life as well. After having dropped out of high school one year because of her pregnancy with me, she finished high school with honors. There was never reconciliation with my father so he disappeared from my life. While I grew blissfully among the flower beds in summer and around the woodstove in winter in Grandma’s strict but loving care, my mother went on to college. While attending the small Methodist black college she met her first husband. Within a year they were separated and she came back home. My memories really don’t begin until she comes back. I thought she was the most beautiful lady I knew. I loved all of her groovy outfits and hairstyles I adored her like a fan, but it was my grandmother that I first called "Mama". I thrived at our rural home riding my red tricycle behind my grandmother as she gardened. Meanwhile my mother started a career in business administration. I continued to idealize her even more. Back in those days in that town it was not often you saw a black woman dressed up behind a desk in air conditioning. My mother eventually got a divorce from her estranged husband. When I was in first grade, she got an apartment, but I still spent everyday after school at my grandmother’s. It was about this time my mother began dating her second husband, an aspiring law student from Memphis the city fifty miles from us. By the time I was in second grade my whole life was turned inside out. After a civil marriage my mother followed my new stepfather, Earl, to Louisville, Ky. He had a brother and sister there, but more importantly, he had been accepted to the University of Louisville Law School. The day they came to get me from my grandmother’s was one of the hardest for both of us. She never really forgave my mom for taking me away. I was really all she had. I remember feeling totally conflicted. I didn’t want to leave Grandma and the only place I knew, but I didn’t want my Mom to go without me. My transition from the rural simplicity of life at Grandma’s house to the urban older black neighborhood in a tiny apartment was very difficult. I had to adjust to the somewhat ghetto attitudes of the children including my new stepcousins that lived in the same apartment complex. You see, I was not even used to playing with neighborhood kids. I was used to playing alone or with Grandma. I also had a hard time adjusting to sharing my mother and taking directions from a stranger, my stepfather. We really got off to a really bad start. As I said the apartment was tiny, just two rooms, a bedroom and living area with kitchenette. Before they made the makeshift sleeping area for me in a corner of the living area, I slept in the bedroom with my Mom. My stepfather slept on the pullout couch. Of course at seven years old I didn’t see anything awkward about this sleeping arrangement. One early morning I found myself in a very awkward position. I awoke to find myself alone in the bedroom. I slowly opened the bedroom door to peer into the living room. I could barely see through the haze created by the dawn sun peeking through the closed blinds. I continued walking forward not fully awake. I could hear heavy breathing. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes I slowly began to focus on the forms that began to appear in front of me. Suddenly I realized the dark and light forms on the couch bed were naked humans. That realization sent me running back to the bed. Even though I didn’t look long enough to recognize my mother and stepfather I deduced they were guilty of the act in the living room. I was quite troubled by what I witnessed until I confessed what I saw to my step cousins. They had had similar experiences; therefore, we concluded that it was something parents did. I eventually forgave them. Without realizing it, they often left sex education manuals within my reach. I read them all cover to cover. It was great preparation for later in life. I never had any hang-ups in that area. My stepfather and I developed a good relationship after the rocky start. We had a lot in common. We were both skinny with glasses. Even though he had a darker complexion, people would often say, "You look just like Earl". That was reinforced by the fact we wore the exact same styled wire rimmed glasses. He stressed education and intellectual development while I was an above average student who sincerely listened to him. He would often read his law cases to me and books about black heroes or African kings. I admired him for always knowing the answers to any of my questions. He was a human encyclopedia. I later learned that law school was actually a bit of a struggle for him. He also studdered. I believe this made it hard for him to communicate and certainly hurt his confidence. The crazy thing is that because I grew up with him I had complete patience listening to him. I was always interested in his conversations. He would encourage me and any other kid with his mantras, "Get an education!",or "Believe in your self!" Along with my mother’s support, he definitely made me believe that I could aspire to anything in life. Both of my parents were good role models. My stepfather had grown up with days he had gone hungry and yet he pursued a law career. My mother was a country girl who became an administrative assistant at the university. I was also lucky to witness the success of my step uncles. One owned a chain of grocery stores in Memphis and the other was a professor that had sold a chemical company and invested in real estate. The chemistry professor was the brother that lived in Louisville with us. I was close to his daughters. The eldest was my age and the younger one was just a year younger, but she always a bit immature. They also had a brother about five years older. He was always stuck in his room smoking marijuana. I had three step aunts. One in Memphis, one in Louisville, and one that eventually moved from Virginia to Louisville Earl’s eldest sister in Louisville was a great support to my mom and me. She probably stayed married to him as long as she did because of Aunt Verniece’s encouragement. When Aunt Eliza moved to town she was the final blow to a failing marriage. She and Aunt Fannie in Memphis tended to be meddlesome in their brother’s affairs. I had lots of step cousins in both Louisville and Memphis. In the beginning I got teased severely for my differences. I must have had a thick Somerville accent when I entered the family. Of course my "four eyes" were a source for jokes. As time progressed I became accepted as family, probably more than my mother. When I was still in elementary school, my older teen step cousins would allow me to hang out with them and their friends because I knew how to keep my mouth shut. All I really had to overlook was a few reefers, but I got to go to ballet practices and see boyfriends that were in bands and lots of fun and interesting people. Unfortunately this was the beginning of my life as a spectator. My mother exposed me to all the proper lessons such as piano and dance, but I never took to any performing talents like my cousins. I did excel in drawing and besides reading and TV, I was always drawing. We didn’t live in that tiny apartment long before we moved into married student housing on the university campus. There I was introduced to an eclectic group of friends. To be continued...

     

    eXTReMe Tracker