Hello's and Goodbye's

I came home today after being away from Jah for over a week!! Its really crazy that no matter how old he grows whenever I see my son my eyes still light up like the day I first met him. I ran into his school like a kid chasing the ice cream truck. Being able to wrap my arms around him is literally the best feeling in the world and even though I am his mom and I’m sure he looks to me as his protection, I find so much comfort and safety in those moments with him. A child’s love is the purest form of love. It has no conditions and is free of all judgment we often face daily from others. I am currently experiencing a rough place right now in my life and Jahmeir is a constant reminder of the many things I didn’t have the opportunity to experience prior to him becoming apart of my life. The love I have for my son overwhelms my soul. This love has literally been a driving force in all I do.  After a great reunion with Jah, my plans were to go home and do homework and just laugh it up together, but those plans came to a halt when we got news that my aunt's dog (Capone) died. 

I  honestly never understood how people bonded so closely with animals until my aunt got Capone. He was born shortly before I gave birth to Jahmeir. From the moment Jahmeir and Capone met, I knew why they refer to dogs as a “mans best friend”. Capone could recognize Jahmeir’s voice miles away and even during phone conversations, he would run to the phone and sit next to my aunt to hear what Jahmeir was saying. As I am writing this, I have not yet told Jahmeir the news. I am struggling with what to say and more so, how do I provide him the comfort he will need when I share this news with him….

Breaking The News

As expected, Jahmeir did not handle the news well. The struggle was trying to get him to understand that dogs don’t live as long as humans. Of course being a kid with aspergers, he has combated every explanation. He did however provide me with some great insight. When I asked him if he wanted to talk his response was “Capone was like my brother and he really loved me”. The gift of love is free and can be found in the simplest forms and unexpected relationships and bonds.

Tonight’s post is in memory of Capone “Jah’s Best Friend” 

Breaking the Cycle (A Mothers Cry)

I wonder sometimes about what life would be like with my father still alive. For the life of me I cannot see how him dying was for the better. Was I supposed to be born into a vicious cycle of abuse? I try not to question my story but embrace every obstacle I have went through so many things as proof that I am an overcomer. But even after overcoming what happens to all the hurt and pain I had to endure while going through? It reminds me of a football game. The star quarterback throws the winning pass as he it tackled and knocked on conscious. For a few moments he blacks out and awakens to a screaming crowd. He is checked out by the aide on the field and is able to get up and brush himself off. Does he celebrate? In that moment he is fine but who is to say what the long-term impacts of that tackle will be? Will it matter then that he was a star quarterback years later when he is having delusions that resulted from all the hits he endured after years of being tackled? At what point do we recognize the impact of injury? Because he got up at that moment why do we not perform the x-ray to dig deeper to see what impacts and deeper injuries he really sustained? This concept is the same in life. I feel like I’ve overcome many things in life. I’ve played the role of the star quarterback. I’ve thrown the winning pass at many games in life. I’ve taken the hits and gotten back up. I’ve been the MVP. And while in the moment it feels great at the top, in the midst of the crowd cheering, I’m reminded of the injuries. Was it all worth it? What will I become? Was it necessary for me to endure all that time? So now here I stand 32 years later. In my mind I like to believe I’m much bigger and better than those hits, but my mind and heart aches. I am angry. I am bitter. I cry. I scream. I want it all to end. And there stands my beautiful son. Have I taken him to try out for the same football team I played for? Have I exposed him to those unfixable injuries I too endured? As his mom it’s my job to protect him right? Yet I still sign him up for try outs and take him to the practices even though I know he deserves better. I then realize I am exposing my son to the same vicious cycle of abuse. Given the unique differences my son has being a black male with Aspergers, what is his perception of what a man should be? What is his perception of women? As parents we may sometimes think our children are oblivious to what is going on around them or even right in the home. We have no idea that the events that’s transpire in the home all play a role in shaping your child’s character and outlook on life itself. I was often told that I was a mean little girl and the assumption was often because of loosing my father .No one ever knew what was going on in my home. I often tell teachers that if you really wonder understand why a child acts out all you have to do is visit the home. I am charged as Jahmeir’s mother to recognize the mistakes of my past and in my childhood and all the things that were painful for me it makes no sense to inflict the same pain on my son. So even in the midst of the tears I shed in posting this, my tears can only be motivation to breaking the cycle so Jahmeir comes out on top.