It's been several years since I really celebrated Christmas. I didn't stop for religious reason. I mainly stopped because I'm alone now, my son has grown and no longer celebrate, most of my family live thousands of miles away. I'm not lonely or sad, I'm just not making a big deal.
Today however like Ebenezer Scrooge I was visited by the ghost of Christmas past. This is what I remembered, Yummy treats and tummy ache. Hot chocolate and gingerbread with whipped cream, oranges, tangerines, walnuts and pecans. Candy dishes full of colorful hard candies. There was cookies and chocolate cake, apple and sweet potato pies, ham with pineapple and cherries glaze, turkey and dressing, mashed potatoes with giblet gravy.
Our neighborhood was always lite with colorful lights and Mr Roger had a Santa and reindeer on his roof and a snow covered nativity scene on his lawn. Our silver tree with a light that changed colors as the light circled, from red to green, blue and yellow. The homemade snowflakes and school art Christmas projects placed lovingly on the tree.
I remember the felicity of the holiday spirit and love and laughter as my siblings and I try not to offend one another in fear of receiving the dreaded lump of coal. I remember the Christmas when I was five my Aunt Cheryl(she was only five years older then myself) calling me a fast ass. I was certain after her saying that about me on Christmas Eve, she would surely receive her measly gift of the dreaded lump of coal, and just to be sure, I immediately told on her. Reminding my grandma that Santa left only coal for children that say bad words..Boy was I ever surprised when I saw her bounty the next morning, I also felt cheated out of laughing at her. The ghost of Christmas past didn't remind of what I did to make her feel the need to call me that, whatever it was I apparently was to focused on Cheryl's indiscretion to remember mine. I still struggle with focusing on others sin while I turn a blind eye to mine. I have learned a new word for that now, Jesus called it hypocrite and said I should first remove the log out my own eye. It's impossible to see when you have a log in your eye.
I remember the smell of pine and spices in the air. I remember the new plastic smell of my dolls and the bright shine of their hair. I remember emerging one such doll in water because she could actually pee if fed water and trying to get her to pee by bottle feeding her was too much of a chore. I tossed her aside after her near drowning experience since her hair no longer shone, but stood straight up on top of her head with none on the back or sides.
I remember itchy balloon slips under my dress and tights that I had to pick lint balls off, and reciting a poem for our Christmas pageant, I remember one year being the angel bringing the good news of the birth of our savior. I remember gifts that I loved and gifts that were practical.
I remember Christmas carols and licking snow of my hand knitted mittens...but most of all I remember, family, fun and being loved.
Merry Christmas...I have to go call my mother and son.
Fearless
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Saturday, November 8, 2008
On the right hand of Grace
I first met Stella in a dream two months before I met her in person. The dream was so real that I started writing about the woman in my dream in my journal to God. The day I met her in person was the day that I first set foot in House of God's Glory(My place of healing and worship). As I walked in with my friend Robbin, Stella beckoned me with a wave of her hand and said, in her Jewish mother New York accent "Come and sit next to me!" I couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. Robbin tried to introduce us, but was met with a wave of Stella's hand and she said, "We already know each other!" At the time I didn't recognize her from my dream(she was much younger in my dream). As she motioned me to sit in the seat to the right of her, I had no idea it would be my seat for the next two and a half years.
Stella became my rock,confidant and friend. We would spend hours together, mostly at her home, feeding the ducks in the pond outside her back door. We loved sharing vegetable submarine sandwiches, secretly eating strawberry Haagen Dasz ice cream, and chatting for hours. They were peaceful days full of love. Sometimes I would reach for her hand. In her company I found love and acceptance, wisdom and the courage to dare to dream again. I once read that a friend believes in you when you forgot how to believe in yourself. Stella believed in me. Stella reminded me to believe in myself. She had an uncanny knack of knowing what I was feeling. She would say: "you look happy or sad, or tired." Once as I had a bad thought about someone, she said "Carlean no bad thoughts" without even looking at me.
I would arrive at Stella with a hand full of flowers, a veggie sub and the biggest balloon I could fine. I used pick the largest most colorful balloon In the market with a carefully chosen silk string. As I walked through the market I would call out to strangers "Happy Stella Day", and they would light up and give me a bright smile and say "Thank You". My sisters Jill and Melodie would be amazed at their response and wonder why they didn't see me as crazy. It was something about Stella Day that brightend the dark place inside of us. During those days Stella started having trouble remembering. She was received the diagnosis of Alzheimer. Stella got scared and cried a lot during those days. She was worried about not being able to take care of her self. At the time she was 86 years and fiercely independent. Her greatest concern was one day having to go to a nursing home. One day she had me promise that I would never let her go into a nursing home. I reluctantly agreed not because I didn't want to, but because I wasn't sure I could keep that promise since I wasn't a relative. She said "Now I feel better".
Several times after I made that promised I was tested in that area. Once as her memory started to decline and her family spoke to her about going into a place where she could be monitored. She cried and I remembered my promise so I called her and suggested I could move in with her and be there with her, she said "Where will you sleep in a one room apartment",I said "I don't know on the couch or floor what does it matter you won't be alone". We never mentioned it after that day. Her family hired a woman to come in a few times a week to clean and cook and work out a neat schedule for her so she wouldn't forget. The second time my promise was tested was on my birthday in early June. I surprised Stella with a visit to take her out to dinner with me to celebrate. She was so happy to see me, my visits had gotten fewer and far between. I don't know why, mostly because I'm selfish and visiting Stella had turned into a session of her asking the same question and me constantly repeating the answer. On my birthday I was feeling scared and defeated, I needed Stella and I didn't care if I had to answer the same question, I was satisfied with a glimpse of the old Stella. As I got out of the SUV in front of the restaurant, I said Stella wait until I get around to your side to assist you. Before I could get around to her side she had opened the door and got out. She got to the curve and tripped over the curve. I watched in shocked horror as Stella fell over. I tried to pick her up but she was much to heavy. Some of the employees at the restaurant saw what happened and came to her rescue. I beg them to call an ambulance. One of them came out to where we stood and told us he had called for emergency assistance. Stella bellowed in a loud voice that she was not getting into it. She was fine and was not going to the hospital. I looked her with pleading eyes and she tilted her head in determination. I said "Stella please go to the hospital, I'm going with, do you want me to take you?". I was so scared for her I started to cry, Then she told me why she couldn't go to the hospital. She said with tears in her own eyes "If I go to the hospital my family will put me into a nursing home". She held me to that promise against my better judgment. I said "Okay lets go eat". I stayed with Stella as long as I could that night and called the rest of the night until she finally said to me, I'm going to bed now". Then I called her at seven the next morning. It was the longest night of my life. The next time I saw her she said "Didn't we have a nice birthday".
A few months later she went to the hospital complaining of a pain in her shoulder. I knew it was bad because I knew she wouldn't dare step foot into a hospital unless it was a dire emergency. Several of the women in our congregation went to visit. I reined kisses on her forehead as I sometimes did in greeting and she said "Beautiful Carlean as she often referred to me. She was as always pondering how blessed she was, she used to say "I'm so blessed who has it better then me". Usually she would be referring to her small but peaceful apartment complex. However that day it was the fact that she had a private hospital room with a television that was connected to her bed and easily reached. I begged her to forgive me for being selfish and told her to hurry home so that we could have our Stella Day, I promised to be a better friend. She look at me with a puzzled expression and said "There's not a selfish bone in your body". I thought to myself, "Boy, she has to love me to be able to miss that". Two days later she had a heart attack.
I was awaken one morning a few days after her heart attack. The Lord spoke to me and asked me to pray for Stella's transition. I cried all that morning but I prayed. I said Lord this isn't fair I don't want to pray for her transition I want to pray for her healing. Once again that selfish side of me had surfaced. I said Lord it's hard to lose someone you love, and it's even hared to lose someone that loves you. He said "You won't be losing her love it's going from temporal to eternal". I thought about her quality of life, she had not been able to walk since her heart attack. If she survived she would most likely go into a nursing home. For the third time since making that promise I had to keep it. So I prayed the hardest prayer of my life. In between gut wrenching tears. I prayed for Stella transition to be painless and peaceful. A few hours later Ann our congregation senior pastor called and told me that they didn't expect Stella to make it.
The last time I saw Stella was two months to the day. We had our last Stella Day as she lay on her death bed. I wrote in my journal the following:
I made it to the hospital to see Stella. I first stopped in the store that I usually get the balloons for, "Stella Day". I got the biggest balloon I could find, it was colorful and shaped like a dragonfly. As I walked through the store I called out to everyone that passed me "Happy Stella Day", and as in the past it changed people. They smiled, waved and said "Thank you". By the time I made it to the hospital that strange Stella Day joy had taken me by surprise. Infecting everyone that came in contact with me. My roommate who accompanied me watched in amazement. She said "You would think people would think you are crazy or at least ask what is Stella Day". I told her everyone loves Stella Day even if they don't understand it. When we get to her room the first faces I see are my beloved Pastors Alyosha and Jody. Stella lay in the bed weak and frail a fraction of the Stella I'm used to. She looked up when I said happy Stella Day and smiled and said with a voice that didn't quite fit her condition. "Well lets go have fun"! You know how much I love Stella Day. We prayed for Stella's healing and she started to look better instantly. Stella stayed up and talked with us for hours. When we asked if she wanted to rest she said "no I want to enjoy my family". I asked her how she felt and she said, "Sweating and uncomfortable and since I'm complaining I must be getting better, otherwise I would just lay here".
I left the hospital with a sense of awe over the overwhelming grace of Stella Day. Stella's last words to me was "I'm so blessed and you are one of my biggest blessings and I appreciate you"..The lessons of gratitude, love, acceptance and grace that she imparted to me are priceless. She's one of biggest blessings.
I was taken by surprised by the grace given to me on Stella day. My heart is no longer heavy, but filled with awesome wonder of the blessings and love bestowed me that night at the hospital. I'm always amazed by grace. Always.
Stella said the Lord changed her name to Grace and I for one understood why. If I wrote about her for the next ten years I couldn't begin to tell all of the Grace she brought onto my life. I met her when I was broken, ragged, church abused and loosing faith that there was any true love in the church. I silently walked out of that hospital room, strong, sure and positive that I really do have worth and something of value to offer the rest of the world. She taught me how to love and be loved.
There are still days when I miss her so much that I cry, but I always think about what the Lord told me. Her love is eternal now. Then I say to myself, "I'm so blessed, who has it better them me".
Stella became my rock,confidant and friend. We would spend hours together, mostly at her home, feeding the ducks in the pond outside her back door. We loved sharing vegetable submarine sandwiches, secretly eating strawberry Haagen Dasz ice cream, and chatting for hours. They were peaceful days full of love. Sometimes I would reach for her hand. In her company I found love and acceptance, wisdom and the courage to dare to dream again. I once read that a friend believes in you when you forgot how to believe in yourself. Stella believed in me. Stella reminded me to believe in myself. She had an uncanny knack of knowing what I was feeling. She would say: "you look happy or sad, or tired." Once as I had a bad thought about someone, she said "Carlean no bad thoughts" without even looking at me.
I would arrive at Stella with a hand full of flowers, a veggie sub and the biggest balloon I could fine. I used pick the largest most colorful balloon In the market with a carefully chosen silk string. As I walked through the market I would call out to strangers "Happy Stella Day", and they would light up and give me a bright smile and say "Thank You". My sisters Jill and Melodie would be amazed at their response and wonder why they didn't see me as crazy. It was something about Stella Day that brightend the dark place inside of us. During those days Stella started having trouble remembering. She was received the diagnosis of Alzheimer. Stella got scared and cried a lot during those days. She was worried about not being able to take care of her self. At the time she was 86 years and fiercely independent. Her greatest concern was one day having to go to a nursing home. One day she had me promise that I would never let her go into a nursing home. I reluctantly agreed not because I didn't want to, but because I wasn't sure I could keep that promise since I wasn't a relative. She said "Now I feel better".
Several times after I made that promised I was tested in that area. Once as her memory started to decline and her family spoke to her about going into a place where she could be monitored. She cried and I remembered my promise so I called her and suggested I could move in with her and be there with her, she said "Where will you sleep in a one room apartment",I said "I don't know on the couch or floor what does it matter you won't be alone". We never mentioned it after that day. Her family hired a woman to come in a few times a week to clean and cook and work out a neat schedule for her so she wouldn't forget. The second time my promise was tested was on my birthday in early June. I surprised Stella with a visit to take her out to dinner with me to celebrate. She was so happy to see me, my visits had gotten fewer and far between. I don't know why, mostly because I'm selfish and visiting Stella had turned into a session of her asking the same question and me constantly repeating the answer. On my birthday I was feeling scared and defeated, I needed Stella and I didn't care if I had to answer the same question, I was satisfied with a glimpse of the old Stella. As I got out of the SUV in front of the restaurant, I said Stella wait until I get around to your side to assist you. Before I could get around to her side she had opened the door and got out. She got to the curve and tripped over the curve. I watched in shocked horror as Stella fell over. I tried to pick her up but she was much to heavy. Some of the employees at the restaurant saw what happened and came to her rescue. I beg them to call an ambulance. One of them came out to where we stood and told us he had called for emergency assistance. Stella bellowed in a loud voice that she was not getting into it. She was fine and was not going to the hospital. I looked her with pleading eyes and she tilted her head in determination. I said "Stella please go to the hospital, I'm going with, do you want me to take you?". I was so scared for her I started to cry, Then she told me why she couldn't go to the hospital. She said with tears in her own eyes "If I go to the hospital my family will put me into a nursing home". She held me to that promise against my better judgment. I said "Okay lets go eat". I stayed with Stella as long as I could that night and called the rest of the night until she finally said to me, I'm going to bed now". Then I called her at seven the next morning. It was the longest night of my life. The next time I saw her she said "Didn't we have a nice birthday".
A few months later she went to the hospital complaining of a pain in her shoulder. I knew it was bad because I knew she wouldn't dare step foot into a hospital unless it was a dire emergency. Several of the women in our congregation went to visit. I reined kisses on her forehead as I sometimes did in greeting and she said "Beautiful Carlean as she often referred to me. She was as always pondering how blessed she was, she used to say "I'm so blessed who has it better then me". Usually she would be referring to her small but peaceful apartment complex. However that day it was the fact that she had a private hospital room with a television that was connected to her bed and easily reached. I begged her to forgive me for being selfish and told her to hurry home so that we could have our Stella Day, I promised to be a better friend. She look at me with a puzzled expression and said "There's not a selfish bone in your body". I thought to myself, "Boy, she has to love me to be able to miss that". Two days later she had a heart attack.
I was awaken one morning a few days after her heart attack. The Lord spoke to me and asked me to pray for Stella's transition. I cried all that morning but I prayed. I said Lord this isn't fair I don't want to pray for her transition I want to pray for her healing. Once again that selfish side of me had surfaced. I said Lord it's hard to lose someone you love, and it's even hared to lose someone that loves you. He said "You won't be losing her love it's going from temporal to eternal". I thought about her quality of life, she had not been able to walk since her heart attack. If she survived she would most likely go into a nursing home. For the third time since making that promise I had to keep it. So I prayed the hardest prayer of my life. In between gut wrenching tears. I prayed for Stella transition to be painless and peaceful. A few hours later Ann our congregation senior pastor called and told me that they didn't expect Stella to make it.
The last time I saw Stella was two months to the day. We had our last Stella Day as she lay on her death bed. I wrote in my journal the following:
I made it to the hospital to see Stella. I first stopped in the store that I usually get the balloons for, "Stella Day". I got the biggest balloon I could find, it was colorful and shaped like a dragonfly. As I walked through the store I called out to everyone that passed me "Happy Stella Day", and as in the past it changed people. They smiled, waved and said "Thank you". By the time I made it to the hospital that strange Stella Day joy had taken me by surprise. Infecting everyone that came in contact with me. My roommate who accompanied me watched in amazement. She said "You would think people would think you are crazy or at least ask what is Stella Day". I told her everyone loves Stella Day even if they don't understand it. When we get to her room the first faces I see are my beloved Pastors Alyosha and Jody. Stella lay in the bed weak and frail a fraction of the Stella I'm used to. She looked up when I said happy Stella Day and smiled and said with a voice that didn't quite fit her condition. "Well lets go have fun"! You know how much I love Stella Day. We prayed for Stella's healing and she started to look better instantly. Stella stayed up and talked with us for hours. When we asked if she wanted to rest she said "no I want to enjoy my family". I asked her how she felt and she said, "Sweating and uncomfortable and since I'm complaining I must be getting better, otherwise I would just lay here".
I left the hospital with a sense of awe over the overwhelming grace of Stella Day. Stella's last words to me was "I'm so blessed and you are one of my biggest blessings and I appreciate you"..The lessons of gratitude, love, acceptance and grace that she imparted to me are priceless. She's one of biggest blessings.
I was taken by surprised by the grace given to me on Stella day. My heart is no longer heavy, but filled with awesome wonder of the blessings and love bestowed me that night at the hospital. I'm always amazed by grace. Always.
Stella said the Lord changed her name to Grace and I for one understood why. If I wrote about her for the next ten years I couldn't begin to tell all of the Grace she brought onto my life. I met her when I was broken, ragged, church abused and loosing faith that there was any true love in the church. I silently walked out of that hospital room, strong, sure and positive that I really do have worth and something of value to offer the rest of the world. She taught me how to love and be loved.
There are still days when I miss her so much that I cry, but I always think about what the Lord told me. Her love is eternal now. Then I say to myself, "I'm so blessed, who has it better them me".
Monday, January 28, 2008
Ain't I a woman
Lately I've been thinking about Sojourner Truth's famous "Ain't I a woman" speech. It was delivered at a Women's convention in Akron Ohio in 1881. I think about the courage she had as a former slave fighting for the rights of the "Women of the north and Negroes of the south". I've always loved the simplicity and wisdom of that great woman, of that great speech.
I remeber as a preteen during Afro American History month, our class was having a play. We were to choose a hero/heroine to speak on. I chose Sojourner Truth. I read all I could about her, I went to the library, and I searched through the many mostly unused encyclopedias my mother had purchased over the years. I finally came across her famous "Ain't I a woman" speech. I had found my hearts cry, we were kindred spirits. I would one day change my name to Sojourner and speak God's truth. I would be brave and fight oppression of all kind. I was twelve with such a stubborn determination that my daddy once proclaimed "I would die and go to hell for what I believed in". There is a long and winding road between twelve and forty-something. My journey has not been an easy one. My past is messy, full of sin and shame. I have been enslaved in my own lust. I have made many decisions built on fear; whose foundation crumbled under the weight of truth. I put my twelve years old dreams on a shelf for many years, they sat dusty and forgotten. Lately they have surfaced like the ghost of things past.
I think about the stirring of my heart for Sojourner Truth's story, she was born a slave. She worked her way out of slavery only to have her children sold into it. She fought and won freedom for her son. She was beat and forbid to marry the only man she ever loved. She was forced to marry another. She was enslaved by force..I was enslaved mostly by choice. Like Sojourner I "talk to the Lord and he talks to me". And like her I am a sojourner in a place that not my home. I've been a outcast and a rebel. My courage was replaced by passivity and fear. My truth has been silence by the shame of bad decisions and fear of rejection. And yet like Sojouner he speaks to me. He said tell the truth. Sojourner stood bold in the face of her oppressor and proclaimed freedom in Jesus name, She stood up against the religious spirit. Isn't that the same spirit that crucified Jesus, that has caused many babes in Christ to run away from the religious community never to return. The same spirit that told me to sit down and shut up when the fire of God burned deep in my heart. That fire is no longer a smothering heap of ashes from the past. He has put a fresh fire inside of my heart. And it burns with desire for the truth of my beloved. Sojourner is America's Mother of truth. I'm the daughter of grace. Her life was a testimony of freedom in Christ, mine is a testimony of grace and redemption and freedom. "Tell the truth", those words echo in my heart. My daddy had it wrong I wont die and go to hell for what I believe, I will die and go home..I'm a sojourner, and ain't I a woman?
Fearless
I remeber as a preteen during Afro American History month, our class was having a play. We were to choose a hero/heroine to speak on. I chose Sojourner Truth. I read all I could about her, I went to the library, and I searched through the many mostly unused encyclopedias my mother had purchased over the years. I finally came across her famous "Ain't I a woman" speech. I had found my hearts cry, we were kindred spirits. I would one day change my name to Sojourner and speak God's truth. I would be brave and fight oppression of all kind. I was twelve with such a stubborn determination that my daddy once proclaimed "I would die and go to hell for what I believed in". There is a long and winding road between twelve and forty-something. My journey has not been an easy one. My past is messy, full of sin and shame. I have been enslaved in my own lust. I have made many decisions built on fear; whose foundation crumbled under the weight of truth. I put my twelve years old dreams on a shelf for many years, they sat dusty and forgotten. Lately they have surfaced like the ghost of things past.
I think about the stirring of my heart for Sojourner Truth's story, she was born a slave. She worked her way out of slavery only to have her children sold into it. She fought and won freedom for her son. She was beat and forbid to marry the only man she ever loved. She was forced to marry another. She was enslaved by force..I was enslaved mostly by choice. Like Sojourner I "talk to the Lord and he talks to me". And like her I am a sojourner in a place that not my home. I've been a outcast and a rebel. My courage was replaced by passivity and fear. My truth has been silence by the shame of bad decisions and fear of rejection. And yet like Sojouner he speaks to me. He said tell the truth. Sojourner stood bold in the face of her oppressor and proclaimed freedom in Jesus name, She stood up against the religious spirit. Isn't that the same spirit that crucified Jesus, that has caused many babes in Christ to run away from the religious community never to return. The same spirit that told me to sit down and shut up when the fire of God burned deep in my heart. That fire is no longer a smothering heap of ashes from the past. He has put a fresh fire inside of my heart. And it burns with desire for the truth of my beloved. Sojourner is America's Mother of truth. I'm the daughter of grace. Her life was a testimony of freedom in Christ, mine is a testimony of grace and redemption and freedom. "Tell the truth", those words echo in my heart. My daddy had it wrong I wont die and go to hell for what I believe, I will die and go home..I'm a sojourner, and ain't I a woman?
Fearless
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