Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone

It's dark in this room, nothing but the sun shining through the blinds. But the darkness in this room can't compare to the darkness I feel right now. The weather man says no sign of showers, yet I'm dripping wet in tears. The storm cloud above my head extends its arm for comfort, but only leaves me sinking further into my own misery. "It's going to be okay", "She's in a better place", "Just be happy that there's no more pain for her", "Let me know if there is anything I can do", is what everyone is telling me. But what about me? WILL I BE OKAY? WHERE CAN I GO TO BE IN A BETTER PLACE THAN HERE? WHAT ABOUT THE PAIN I FEEL? CAN YOU BRING HER BACK? I really want to be angry with GOD for taking her from me, but how can you be mad at the man responsible for creating the beautiful things in life. As I type, I can't help but glance at my stomach from time to time as my daughter (who is 52 days away from being born) kicks me with such a fury that it makes me forget my pain for a milli-second. Every time I feel her kick, I'm reminded that she's going to get me through this. The only thing I can find comfort in, is knowing that she's here with me. And through her, my Pearl, will be with me too.

25 years old, and still not used to death. Even after experiencing my brother's sudden death, I believed that she would out live us all. No matter how sick she got, the doctors would make her better. She was my Superwoman: invincible to everything that man had to throw against her, because GOD was keeping her here for us. But as selfish as we've been, it stopped being about us, and for the first time, it began being about her. The last few years, had put Superwoman out of commission. She couldn't leap over tall buildings in a single bound anymore. It would take her a few tries first. She couldn't change in the phonebooth in a flash anymore. She needed a little help getting her stockings on. But the one thing she never stopped doing; flying! She never EVER stopped flying! Although her body couldn't do all the things she was used to doing, her spirit was always on high. Making it easier for everyone who came in contact with her to love her. I'll never forget the way she would sing so randomly, her child like laugh that was infectious, the way she would crack jokes on people with all the love in the world behind them, and her smile! She had a wonderful smile. (Which is probably where our family's obsession with teeth came from.)

Pearline Walker, Pearl, my precious gem. Life is going to be so different without you here. We're all in so much pain right now, but we know that this pain isn't going to last. The one thing that I'm never going to get over is the fact that you're not going to be here to give Rylee the best "sugar" in the world. I'm sorry you never got the chance to stick Rachel either. LOL! I love you so much Granny! Take care of Anthony for us. I'm pretty sure he's been a handful and no one can handle him like you can. I also know Uncle Jr and Aunt Bertha will be so happy to have you home with them. I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU MORE THAN WORDS CAN EXPRESS!!!

Change

I just realized I hadn't blogged in a good little minute.

Well alot has changed since my last blog. For starters I found out that I'll be giving birth to a baby girl on January 1st. I have to admit, when I first found out I was pregnant I cried then I threw up. LOL! I also thought something was wrong with me. It seemed like everyone around me was happy and/or excited by this news except me. I heard her heartbeat for the first time, nothing. Then we saw her for the first time, still, nothing. All I could think was that I was already a terrible mother, and she hadn't even come into the world yet. It wasn't until yesterday that I actually got excited about being a mommy. My boy has a way of making things seem better no matter how screwed up they truly are. I have so much that I still want to do with my life, and at first I thought having this baby was going to keep me from it. But now, she'll just be a part of the journey.

I guess me being pregnant has really opened my eyes to people and it's allowed me to see them for who they truly are. And from my observations, I have some really great people in my life. My friends have been wonderful! Especially all my guy friends. I have to admit, I'm actually feeling a little spoiled because of all the attention I'm getting, although I know it's for the baby. LOL! They all check on me everyday, asking me how I feel and stuff like that, and it makes me extremely happy to have people like them in my life. My family has also been wonderful. I mean it makes things easier that my sister is pregnant also (her due date is December 27 and mine is January 1). But the support that everyone has been giving me is amazing!

I'm grateful for wonderful, understanding friends and family. Without them, I'm not sure if I could do this.

I Love You Came Too Late

Death comes at the most random times. And when someone we knows (whether personally or through someone else) dies, we tend to take a look at the life we're currently living. Or at least, I do. We question are we living up to our full potential or are we sitting by idly watching life pass us by. Are we the best daughter/son/friend/cousin/etc we can be? As I sit here with an aching in my heart for my boyfriend and his family over their lost, I can't help but be thankful for the family and friends I have around me. Often times I don't express my love/gratitude properly, because for some reason I assume they'll always be there for me to say or show it to them later. But as GOD has proven to us time and time again, we are on borrowed time that doesn't belong to us. And at any minute, waiting to say I love you becomes not wanting to say goodbye.

For all of my friends, and family that read this, I want you to know that I do love you. I'm appreciative of everything you've ever done, said, or given me. Whether it was a funny joke, bought me anything, got on my LAST nerve or just was there to listen. I appreciate it. In honor of those we love and lost, tell somebody you love them today.

Bruh...It's Your Birthday

Man almost 8 or 9 years ago, this very random dude came into the lives of the students at Wooddale (Wooddale Class of 03 STAND UP!!! LOL! Nah, I'm just playin. Sit ya'll basic behinds down!)

Now keep in mind this is the story through my eyes! He looked like a deer caught in headlights to me. You could obviously tell he was the new kid on the block. But somehow, some way, we became friends. Like besties almost. We used to sit in Mrs. Seals class looking bored, then we'd go to Coach David's class and act a fool! Here we are in a COMPLETELY different lifetime (or so it seems) and we're celebrating Lil EJ's 25th birthday.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AARON! I hope your day is filled with plenty of tig ol bitties, Mike and Ikes (the green box of course), blu-rays, and the #slowmix(hopefully you don't have to listen to it alone this time! HA!)

LOVE YOU LONG TIME BUDDY!

In Flight Tears

**current mood: exhausted from the flight**

As I sat on the plane rocking side to side like a ship on a choppy sea, the thought crossed my mine about the plane crashing and all of us dying. My immediate second thought was, 'Man if I die, I'd be so happy to see my brother.' At that moment, I opened my eyes and the tears streamed down my face. I wasn't dreaming, heck, I wasn't even sleep. But for like 10 minutes (the amount of time it to us to get through the turbulence), I wished I was dead just so I could see him again. Who thinks about dying in a plane crash while flying? An incomplete soul, that's who.

4 years, and 2 days ago at 9am. St. Francis Hospital the 9th floor. That's where he took his last breath. He wasn't in pain (thank GOD) he was just tired. He had fought so long to get back to the man we all knew him as, but he gave up. He was the only boy my momma had, so of course I joke that he had to prove something to us by holding on as long as he did. My brother wasn't just my brother he was my FRIEND, my SHOULDER TO CRY ON, my PARTNER IN CRIME, my ENEMY, my FATHER, my COUNSELOR, my EVERYTHING!!!! I have a really great group of friends and family remaining, but for just one chance to even hold him and tell him how much I miss him and love him, I would give them all up. To say I miss him, wouldn't be the right words. To say I'm not the same since he's been gone is more accurate. I'm a totally different person without him.

Resurrecting "Jody"

I look out the window, and the sun is shining brilliantly today! And it inspires me to smile and have a wonderful day! But then just as quick as my smile appears on my face, a certain sadness creeps up trying to steal away my joy. I go back and forth with this sadness and I eventually defeat it, but I can’t help but feel like the sadness isn’t gone away, but instead it’s just idly sitting by waiting for the sun to set so it can have it’s fair chance to “shine”. This sadness that lingers around my heart comes from a recurring dream I’ve had since I moved out of my mom’s house a year ago.

Different circumstances each time, but definitely the same dream…..

This last dream I had was the one that had me waking up in tears. My mom had just purchased a beautiful house and was having a family gathering to showcase what she described in the dream as her perfect little nest. During this family gathering, I got a taste for some candy (which is very realistic) and decided I was going to head to the store to buy some candy. Well before I could get one arm in my jacket good, in true black family fashion, people started calling off stuff for me to bring back for them. And in true Keishia fashion, I complained but did as I was asked. I come back in the house with arms full of crap from beer to ice to the initial reason I went to the store…my candy. Well he approaches me, “Did you get my snickers?” I sigh, “I forgot to get it. I keep forgetting that you’re back now. My bad. You can have some of mine. I’ll share it with you.” He complains, but takes it any way. Later that night once every one else is gone. There are only three people left in the house. We’re cleaning up, when he throws something across the room and hits me accidentally. I leap across the room and attack him like a lion on a gazelle. We’re giggling and fighting then my mom screams from the kitchen, “ANTHONY AND LAKEISHIA…I don’t know what ya’ll are doing but if you break it, you bought it!” We laugh really hard, because my mom tries to be tough, but she’s a true softy. I hug him and tell him I’m glad he’s back. We missed him so much!

*pause*

Anybody who really knows me knows who Anthony is. Anthony is my big brother. He died almost 4 years ago. *if its fine with you, I don’t really want to get into further than that* Randomly I’ll have these dreams where he came back from the dead, and re-entered our lives like nothing happened. The first time I had one of these dreams, I blamed it on me missing my brother like crazy. But the more I started having them (there has been a total of 7 to date), I’m confused on the reason that I have them. I really want to talk to my mom about these dreams, but I’m afraid to. I don’t want to tell my mother that I frequently have dreams about the only son she’s ever had, coming back to us from the dead. First I already know what she’s going to say, “Well baby, I know you miss your brother. I miss him too. And it’s never easy letting go of someone you love.” But inside I feel like every time I bring him up to her, I’m rubbing it in her face. I mean, yes, I lost my brother; but my mother lost HER ONLY SON.

*confession* The feelings I have behind my brother’s death was my reason for blogging. But I’m thinking that blogging isn’t enough. It might just be time to talk to a professional and figure how to channel these emotions. Because crying in the shower, then shoving the emotions to the back burner isn’t working any more.

Gah… I MISS HIM!!!

Daddy's Little Girl

I quietly sit in the back of the church as the sobs of the filled up church ring in my ears. The minister announces for the last of the 3 minute remarks. For a moment, no one moves. The minister assumes no one wants to speak, and before he opens his mouth to move forward with the service, I rise to my feet. Dressed in a black hoodie, some dark wash jeans, and some black air max, I make my way to the podium. With sunglasses covering half of my face, I stand at the podium for a few moments before I say anything. I finally part my lips to speak, “As I look at all of the faces of you people, and listen to all the things said here today, I’m glad to have this opportunity to share with you. The man that you refer to as kind and loving and full of life, I never knew him. The man that I knew was a liar, a terrible father, a cheater, and not even deserving of such kind words from such fake people.” From that initial statement, my rant goes on for about seven minutes, three minutes over my allocated time. I end my speech by saying, “Here lies Aaron Andre Kearney….dead! The world is a better place without him!” Then the dream ends….

I’ve had this same exact dream at least three nights this week. I’ve had a similar dream before, but never remember so many details. Aaron Andre Kearney is the man people would call my father. Me, I call him everything but father. For such a long time, I hated this man. I mean absolutely hated him. But it took for a tragic time in my life to realize that I had to forgive him in order for me to move on and grow. I feel like I’ve been tricking myself into forgiving him for the last few years. I’ll tell myself that it’s cool, I don’t need him and that he did both my mom and I a HUGE favor by not being there, but I’ve recently realized that it’s not just me and my mother that got screwed by him. You know the saying “poppa was a rolling stone”, well in my case, poppa was a rolling boulder; a rolling boulder that crushed lives every time he made a move. Legend has it that my father has anywhere from twelve to fifteen kids. Here are the ones I know for sure: Nicole, Aaron Jr., Tasha, Quita, Shemeka, Theresa, and Jackie. I’ve been told that I have two brothers in prison, one for murder and the other for robbery. I don’t know these people; I just know their names and some of their faces. For the longest time, I blamed my father as the reason I don’t know my siblings. I’m 24 years old now, and I feel like I need to know these people. I grew up in a house with my older sister and brother and we’re closer than close.

Because of the way my father stopped being in my life, when I was younger I thought it was my fault. And I’ve been left with the feeling that every man I encounter will abandon me or leave me in some way or another. In the back of my mind, I figured if he left me, why wouldn’t any other man leave me? I wanted the attention of every man I encountered at as young age; uncles, my brother, boyfriends of relatives, etc. And the feeling of abandonment and needing to be shown attention from men, has led me to have some pretty weird relationships. Because I expect them to leave, I push them away before it can happen. Here I am now, with a wonderful man in my life, and although he assures me all the time that he’s not going anywhere, I find it hard to believe.

I said all of that to say this, I’m 24 years old and I don’t know a thing about my father, and he doesn’t know a thing about me. The only things I know is, I feel like I wasn’t good enough for him. And I know it’s not just me, but also my other siblings that grew up without him. I have questions that I have to have answered before my 25th birthday. And I intend to get them answered by sitting face to face with him and having a very LONG, OVERDUE talk. Thanks to a sister who recently found me on MySpace, this conversation might take place. I’m just scared out of my mind for some reason. I don’t want him in my life, I just want him to know I turned out to be someone that is pretty awesome, and I’m only getting smarter, stronger and even more awesome than before. And all of this is happening without him.

Short and Sweet (but right to the point)

Welp! I really hate that my first blog of the New Year is somewhat on a negative note, but oh well! It is what IT is!

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always had a gang of male friends. And I do mean a gang! It’s like I gravitate towards men for friendship. I’ve made the following statement a million times and I’ll make for the millionth and one time, I DO NOT LIKE WOMEN! From their attitudes, to their need to fit in with other women, to some of their voices! GAH!!!! I can’t keep women as friends and I’m cool with that. Like now, there are a few chicks that I’ll hang out with, but even then I get tired of them. (*sighs) After the second day of seeing them, I’m thinking, “Okay you can go away now. Thanks”. I know what you’re thinking; it’s natural to get tired of your friends sometimes. And you, my dear, are absolutely correct. But this only happens with my female friends or associates if you want to get technical. I could sit in a room full of men and endure that madness all day and all night! I’ve come up with the following reasons for not really getting along with women. Reason one: I don’t trust a woman as far as I can throw one. I haven’t directly figured out the source behind my lack of trust in women, but I believe by a huge margin that a man can definitely be trusted more than a woman. (You can give me the side eye all you want for that comment) Reason two: Women are clingy and clique-ish. I don’t want to hang out with you every second of every day, and I don’t want to talk to you on the phone PERIOD! I’m not down for all the female bonding, unless there is liquor and food involved. Please believe me when I say, I’m just there for those two. Reason three: women are way too emotional for me to deal with. I’m an emotional person, and I have enough to deal with on my own, I don’t really want to hear your problems all day long. GAH! Lastly, reason four: I just feel more comfortable around a man. Some people would tell me that it’s unhealthy to not want to have a friendship with someone of the same sex and to those people I say….GET BENT! It’s not healthy for me to have a friendship with someone I don’t trust and am willing to bet a small amount of money that they don’t trust me either. And I wouldn’t blame them, cause nine times out of ten they get on my nerves any way.