FOUR Daze Before Yesterday

I've been thinking a lot lately.  Actually remembering a lot lately.  I know the spark... but its the trail that spark created that's the real story.  And as I follow the flame I watched the movie COURAGEOUS.  It's an amazing movie about fatherhood from a Christian father's standpoint.  The movie touched on the bible being the blueprint for men on their role as fathers.  I always believed that God gave you a mother and a father for very different reasons.  It was never intended to be a role fulfilled by a single parent.  As my brother and many others have said, "a woman cannot teach a boy how to be a man."  It's the father's job.  Their job is also to teach their daughters how to love by being their daughters first true love.

When my grandfather passed away, (a few dazes short of a year ago) on February 11th I remember how hard that Valentine's Day was for me.  He was my first true love.  My grandfather was my father in that he followed the blueprint the bible laid out.  He loved his wife, his children, and his grandchildren.  He was a hard-worker and a dutiful Christian man.  He taught me so much and I am forever thankful for that wisdom.

My husband always says his father did the best with the hand he was dealt.  I believe that my step-father did the same thing for me.  He came into my life as a father-figure in a different aspect than I had ever experienced.  He taught me about cars, played games with me (although I STILL can't play backgammon...it was lost in my daze), and he showed love to my mother, his wife.

It wasn't until I began to follow the flame that I understood...my brother's experience is different.  He didn't have the same lesson plan my teachers gave me.  My grandfather taught him his work ethic and his father (my step-father) wasn't around to teach him anything.

I remember this particular daze...
My aunt played favorites.  My brother was her favorite once and I was before him.  He noticed that she was paying extra attention to him and totally ignoring me.  My brother, who is 8 years younger than me, noticed my hurt feelings and told her she couldn't treat his sister like that.

I love my brother unconditionally.  I would do anything for him.  I am so sad that he didn't receive the same love lessons from his "fathers".  I pray God shows him exactly what it means to be a father.  He deserves the best and that love from fatherhood is like no other.  To know that for my step-father and my grandfather, some daze ago, I was the apple of their eye...

Ben, I will tell you just as I told Kenny... you need that love.  It does something to you that words cannot describe.

~Loving the clarity of my past daze. <3

THREE Daze before yesterday

You're my father! How can u even say some selfish shit like I didn't come to your wedding because you didn't come to mine? Wait did you invite me to be a guest at your wedding or ask me to be a participant? Yeah I think you only asked me to participate not attend.

Getting married was never something I anticipated. My husband knows that was the furthest thing from my mind. I wasn't one of those chicks chanting if u like it put a ring on it. LOL Once we decided to get married the second to last thing on my mind was the definitive decision that my little (big) brother was gonna walk me down the aisle.

My father wasn't a daddy. He fathered me by busting off in my mom. Bottom line! My grandfather was my male parental figure. He made sure I had dinner, I had fun money, and I had a pumpkin for my Halloween birthday. That was my daddy. He couldn't walk me down the aisle to give me to my husband, so it fell on the other male in my life.

My brother is 8 years younger than me. We didn't always get along but we did always have each others back and I love and respect him dearly. Of course he would walk me down the aisle and give me to my husband on behalf of our family. That's a definite!

I invited my father to attend because I wanted him there. I love my father. But his wedding was before mine and I didn't go. So he didn't come to mine or respond to my invitation. That hurt for a long time but then I'm used to him hurting me. He treats my baby brother and sister like gold and me like the dirty goldminer just there to do a job totally irrelevant to the bottom line...precious, beautiful, shiny, gold.

My brother did an exceptional job. He did what he always does. He supported me and walked me through the biggest change I've ever endured.

The three greatest men in my life have been my grandfather, my brother, Ben, and my husband. I thank God for their understanding, support, and unconditional love.

Back in the Daze

I moved to Northern VA about 8 1/2 years ago.  Before that I lived in a city down in Southern VA that was mostly black or white people.  Once I got to Northern VA I experienced a new type of diversity.  I met people from Afghanistan and Pakistan, Vietnam and Korea, Turkey and Lebanon, different countries all over the world.  Countries that I still can't even point out on the world globe.  I learned about different religions, cultures, and traditions.

Most importantly I learned that the world wasn't just black or white people.  I learned that the racism I experienced growing up in the south weren't prevalent up here in the north.

My first-hand experience with racism was by these little white boys who ran to the end of their yard and told me to "get away from my yard, nigger."  I was so taken aback when this happened.  Mind you it was back in the days of my college years, the 90s, which wasn't THAT long ago.

I recently took a picture of a white man in Northern VA walking up to the drive-thru window at Wendy's after midnight and being served.  My first reaction was to wonder if this man was robbing the cashier...I put my window up just in case, even though I have no idea what protection that was going to provide me. LOL  My second reaction was shock at him handing her money and walking to the second window to pick-up his order.  I immediately thought aloud, "that would never happen if that dude was black."  So I posted the picture I took with the caption "only white people can do this."  Oh my gosh, the backlash I received from that statement!!!  28 comments!  Comments ranging from:  "That's happened to me and I'm white."  "We are all in this together."  "Close your eyes and stop seeing color."

I understand that even in this day and age racism is a sensitive issue.  But the reality of it is that it exists.  Some things are not going to happen with a positive outcome for some people in this world just because of their race.  It's something we all are guilty of.  I feel horrible every time I panic internally when I see someone in a niqab (the Muslim veil covering the entire face except the eyes). 

I guess we ARE all in this together in that we all experience some racism and we all have some racist thoughts/ideals.

TWO Daze Before Yesterday

When he asked me "what happened to us" 5 years after we broke up it made the daze lift from my memory.

I was young when we first started dating, 16 to be exact.  He was sometimes right by my side, but often times away to the side during my lifespan that took me from my high school days to my days as a young-mother.

It's still hard to believe that my dazed memory almost caused me to marry him.  I had conveniently forgotten the cheating, the fights, the arguing, the trips to the health department for medication, the disdain his family had for me... all the drama.

When he asked me "what happened to us" and my memory returned I couldn't do anything but laugh at him. He must have still been dazed and confused... I wasn't!  I had come to find out what love really meant.  I had true friends.  I had seen what being a father to a daughter looked like.  I had set goals and accomplished them.  I had happiness.  And most importantly, I had times where my outlook was clear.

ONE Daze Before Yesterday

Thugs need no memory ;) 

I wouldn't exactly call myself a thug.  As my mother likes to say, I have a mean streak.

Growing up I was always trying to hang out with my male cousins.  Because of this I had to prove I could fit in.  I would run, jump, fight, fall, climb, race...whatever they were doing, so was I.  Sometimes I didn't know when to turn the daredevil in me off.


"Nikki, I dare you to put your gum in her hair."  I shouldn't have done it but she dared me.  So I HAD TO!!!


I think my friends may have taken advantage of my daredevil qualities and used it to their own advantages.  I say that because I didn't have a problem with Kim Brown.  True, she used to walk around acting like her shit didn't stink, but I really could care less.  Now, my best friend on the other hand couldn't stand her ass.  "Look at her!  Ugh, I hate that bitch.  I dare you to punch her in the face when she walks by."  I KNOW, I KNOW, I shouldn't have done it, but I did.


My desire to fit in and be accepted by certain groups made me do things that I knew were bad but I did them anyway.  All they had to do was say three little words...


I DARE YOU!


Now I ask you, does that make me a thug? or someone with a mean streak? or simply weak and susceptible to peer pressure?

THE daze before yesterday

My memory is all muddled.  I don't do drugs, never have.  I drink occassionally...like once or twice a month.  I don't know why my memory is such a daze.  It maybe because I don't try to remember things that are not of great importance.  My earliest memory is of being a 4 year old going to Ms. Maddie's (next door) while my mom went to work and my aunt Winnie picking me up from there and taking me for french fries at McDonald's.  She taught me how to tear the ketchup packet just a little so I could dip my fry inside and pull it out with just enough ketchup on it without making a mess on my clothes.  Joy! Joy!

I also remember being in the mall with my Granny and mom and walking up to my grandma Ms. Irene and aunt Booty.  My grandma Irene was always small framed and gave tight hugs.  She was my father's mother and I longed to run into her and him in the mall together, but she was always with my aunt Booty.

I didn't have memories of my father.  I "met" him when I was 13 years old.  Any interaction I had with him before that age I cannot recall.

Sometimes I get frustrated that my memory is a daze.  Sometimes I panic thinking that perhaps it's a sign of early alzheimer's disease.  Sometimes though it's a good thing that I have a dazed memory because some of my past I never want to remember.

Memories don't live like people do
They always 'member you
Whether things are good or bad
It's just the memories that you have
The Beenie Man a sing (say hey)
Boy stop live down inna de past