I’m tired of only posting pretty stuff. Today I laid out on the f******floor with a Spiderman blanket and a plain notebook. Things look so different from down there. I just literally laid my heavy heart down on the ground. Relief. Seeking warmth I just rolled up in the weight of my worry and listened to the heat come through the vents. If I curse am I a hypocrite? You taught me not to hold things in and to say them how I feel. I’m hearing gospel songs, “You make all things new.” You told me not to hold things in but I can’t just spill out all over the floor, the kids could slip. They don’t like tears, snot, spit and sadness in their food. So lately I’ve been holding tissues, paper towel or a t-shirt up to my face. Trying this new thing.
I call it the muffled scream wail-cry.
I kick my feet and try to force an internal combustion that no one sees. It turns into a weird growl. Then an inquisitive “why” as if I deserve to understand or question. You taught me how to spill out. She taught me how to pour in. Right now I just want to hold you and tell you it’ll be okay. Even if I’m not sure if it’s true.
On my morning walk I usually pray, plan and take photos of flowers I see on my path. I was never a flowers kind of girl. As I grow older, I love them. A clean linen tablecloth and fresh flowers on the dining room table is the perfect setting. On the back patio, I have a few plants but it is my dream to have a beautiful rosebush in my backyard someday.
A gentleman in his 2nd floor window with the curtains wide open just taking in deep breaths. His eyes are focused on nothing in particular. The top of his head is bald. A tight uneven afro covers the rest of his head.
A woman sits on her bright red, brick front porch. She is reading the newspaper aloud. There is no one near her. There is no phone in sight. There are no earbuds in her ears. There is no shame on her face when she sees me, see her, reading to no one. Who is her audience? Does she just enjoy the sound of her own voice? She seems content with her audience of zero.
A man waters his dirt. There is no grass. Maybe there are seeds planted under the brown and rocky dirt. Diligently, with a smile on his face, he waters his dirt.
I wave to get the attention of an older black woman. She is vigorously sweeping the street in front of her home. There is a large blown up photo of a graduate on her lawn. He has a royal blue cap and gown on. There are “Congratulations” balloons tied to her stairs. The SUV crossover vehicle parked in front of her home also has balloons tied to it and a makeshift banner. As she sweeps, there is a smile fixed on her face. The light she carries is as if this moment is still happening. I wave, point to the photo and say, “That’s beautiful. Congratulations!” She is startled. I have invaded the happiness she thought she was sharing with herself. She replies, “I didn’t do it. He did it.” While still in motion and now across the street from her home I said, “You did something.” Her smile grows two sizes bigger. “God bless you,” she says. She takes the leopard print mask from under her chin and covers her mouth. You can still see the glimmer in her eyes as she sweeps.
Although it may seem cliché. I wanted to use the last 5 minutes of Sunday’s ShutYaMouthAndPray to be thankful. We often complain and are sometimes dissatisfied with aspects of our lives that are unsatisfactory to us but would be great blessings to someone else. Be grateful for your employment, be grateful for your hooptie, be grateful for your loved ones (even the ones who get on your nerves.) Each day will present new challenges, you just have to recognize what they are and rise to them.