They're Just People

 

I think about my father often, yet lately he's been on heavy rotation. Gentle memories slip and slide through my mind and leave a big smile on my face, or cause me to laugh and feel good afterwards. Last week I thought about him and wanted to cry.  I heard his voice asking me, "What are you crying for?", and then I started laughing. Listen, grief, sorrow, joy and happiness need to have a meeting because I can't keep up.

 My father would say things that I may not have completely understood when he said it, but as I grew older, the lyrics, we'll understand it better by and by, oooooooooweeeeeee, yes sir - I understand.

 "Ya daddy ain't always gone be here."

"Where are you going?"

He didn't answer me. He just smiled and let out a little chuckle. I understand that now. Boy do I understand that.

When I started my foray into stand up comedy, I told my father how I worked myself up and made myself nervous. What? Oh no! Bobby James Hudson wasn't having or hearing any of that! His baby girl nervous? Please...

 "Baby girl they're just people. They can't do nothing to you. They're just people."

They're just people. I get it. Regardless of a person's title or position - they're just people. God is no respecter of persons. We.Are.All.Going.To.Die We are all just people.

People are the most ridiculous creatures on the earth. We start to move up the chain and begin treating each other recklessly. Coming out of our mouth any old kind of way. Negro, and that's negro with a short I, 2 G's and a long A, what?

 My father's words are on repeat due to the position I currently work, which will change soon. Thank God for favor!  I'm grateful to be gainfully employed, BUT you gotta know that you know, and when to thank God and go!

 How in the entire employed and unemployed mentality can you be terrified of your "boss", and the "boss" is half terrified, too? I wrote that and started laughing...like what?

 I've shared this with close friends and I have to share it with my many admirers who will never personally meet me. Listen, my daddy said they're just people. People do what you allow. If you're not being treated right, you feel uneasy, or you just can't get right - just can't put your finger on it - they're just people. 

 Stand up for yourself. Speak up for yourself. We wrestle not with flesh, look that up in your Bible. The sad thing is some people don't even know they're best friends with a stankin' spirit. A spirit that's running and ruining their life. Why would you allow some raggedy mess to upset, discouraged and discombobulate you? Naw, playa, I think not.

 Life is a beautiful journey. One somebody somewhere loves you. Think on that and live.

 I luv you.

                               

The 2,555-Day Engagement

Seems like  I haven't worked on this book in the last 2,555 days...shame! I gotta get with it!

Here's the prologue for you, and to push me to light the computer keys up 😁

Enjoy!

*****

            A cool breeze filled our room as Luther serenaded us with Promise Me. Candlelight, music, and 800 thread count sheets made this night impeccable. Ever since Cameron and I met a few years ago at a Speed Dating event, my life has been just that – impeccable. Well, my own version of impeccabilities surrounded by a category 10 Tsunami. If a meteorologist had to make a prediction as to when it would hit, they would be unable to forecast the disaster that was yet to come.

Although brief, six minutes to be exact, we managed to cover a lot of ground. We discussed who our favorite singers were and when he said Luther was the man, I knew he was the one.

His snores were gentle as I rolled over to gaze at him. I slid my finger around his full lips and went in for a sweet exchange. He awoke when he felt my tender kiss.

“Uhm, woman, thou art loosed.”

“Cameron, stop it. Don’t start that kind of talk right now. Just stop it, okay?”

Everything about him pleased and annoyed me at the same time. The very first words from his mouth began a battle that he would never win.

“Listen, Monica, you and I both know what’s up. If you don’t like it, why do you keep coming back?

I couldn’t find any words to answer him. The words didn’t exist - yet.

“What you need to do is quit playing games and get rid of Mr. Super Sunday School. Why can’t you get with me fulltime? I treat you better than he ever has and you know it.”

How I managed to look directly into Cameron’s eyes and tell my truth, which was also my lie, was disrespectful. Sometimes I thought I was incapable of loving a man, yet I told Cameron that I loved him. He always said it in return and he didn’t have to. It always seemed like the right time to say it was when we were in my bedroom. A small part of me feels like he really does love me, which is okay, because all I can give him right now is a small part.

 “I can’t leave him. I can’t. He needs more time. Just a little more time.”

His expression changed to one of hurt devotion. Desperation and love should never reside in the same heart.

“You’ll be standing at the Pearly Gates talking to Jesus before he settles with you. Why can’t you see that, Monica?”

*****

I luv you.

Ground Wire

 

A ground wire serves as a connection and protection. It's needed for the proper flow of electricity and wards off electrical surges. It protects us from shocks, electrical shorts and misery. Imagine how angry you'd be if a short happened while charging your cell phone. Your Social Media presence will be affected and your cell phone will be BBQ qrill burnt toast. Oh, the horror.

A few weeks ago I rode to work in silence and thought about what I'm grounded to. What is my connection and protection? If you know me personally, you know God IS in my life. With my mistakes, incorrect thought process (I'll write about that one day. Eh, maybe not...) and everything long on wrong about me - God IS. If you know me personally you know that I love my daddy, weiner dogs, candles, writing, and running my mouth in front of a microphone. 

My father definitely was and is my ground wire. He's been heavy on my mind lately with all the "stuff" that's gone on in my life these past few years. With Father's Day approaching, and June being the month he died in, I'm all up in my feelings. And you know what? I am allowed to be. I just want to tell him that he was right! Man, was he right.

When I'd do a comedy show, I'd call him and give him a sports announcer play by play of the night. I'd tell him who was funny and who bombed. Of course I was the IT girl, I mean, I was, correction, am, Miss WandaLuv. My daddy was all in! I smiled so hard writing and remembering that.

He was my anchor. That's how I felt. My daddy was my anchor. I could travel anywhere, do anything, and live reckless in the streets of America because my daddy was here. He kept me grounded while I was out here flying like a free fool. Oh, the horror...

When he died, I felt that no one was here for me anymore. My anchor was gone. I had to get somewhere and sit down. It was when I was sitting that I became a maid to other folks mess. Like, ain't nobody got time for that.

At times during my silent ride I talked and laughed with my daddy and my Father. I realized who I'm grounded to. My gift is for me and I can still unwrap it and use it. My daddy told me to keep chippin' at it. 

"Keep chippin' at it, baby girl, just keep chippin'."

I can hear his voice loud and clear and I thank God for that. What I know for sure is that when I need a recharge, I can pick up my Bible, or look at my daddy's picture and I'm reminded of our conversations. Memories.

What is your ground wire? Think about what you're connected to and protected from. If your connection ain't your protection oooooooooweeeeeee...you best do some reevaluating.

It's just like right when you realize that you're alright. Yep...and I'm alright with me.

I luv you.