Short Story Sunday: The Meeting, Part 2

photo source above pinterest/blackart

“The Meeting” Continued…

What was I going to wear today, what shoes was I going to where today, earrings, what purse to carry? Oh what was I going to do with my hair. I definitely need Dr. Miracle .. to
bad he really doesn’t come out of the mirror with products for your “do” because I could really use his service this morning.

Black Woman 4
Photo source/Pinterest/Blackart

Well today has arrived, a day that I have been looking forward to for a week now. It has been a long 5 weeks for me and I really do not know how I am going to get through this day …. But I will relax, relate, release or at least that’s what I keep telling myself but for some reason one of those R’s were not working today. As I fumbled through the closet to try and find a matching shoe. My mother came to my mind again, I think of her constantly, she was my confidante , we talked everyday on the phone; I could have just hung up the phone from talking to her for 4 hours and then something would come on TV and there I go calling her back and talking to her about that, Especially if it just happened to be something on HGTV or The Maury show.

We loved the decorating shows and those surprising paternity test results. We would talk about how the girls ought to have been ashamed coming on stage with 5 different men, Or how those color walls and floors does not match each other, “Did you see that house they picked?” Why did they pick that couch! We could and would go on and on. My mother was my very best friend, I knew that I could call on her for anything. She always told me and my brothers that we could talk to her about anything and it would not go no further than her. She was an Angel, she was our mama and we loved her dearly. I finally found something to wear after pulling out over 10 ensembles, I narrowed it down to a Black pant suit with a pink silk halter to go on under the jacket. Out of all the colors that I have ranging from red to green to blue and even purple I had to choose the black, so typical. I finally got myself together and did one last look over in the bathroom mirror before I left out (okay you look fine, I whispered). I can’t even think about eating this morning even though I so badly want to grab that Fiber One Bar on the counter and I almost did but my nerves got the best of me and I quickly re-directed my hands toward the back door.

Did you miss the first one? Click this link to read The Meeting, Part 1 

My car was parked on the side of the house. I looked down at my watch, 10am. Wow, where is the time going. As I got into the car I took another glance in the mirror, okay you look fine I told myself once again, now agitated. I started the car and began to back out of the driveway when a flashback of my first driving experience flashed across my mind like lightning. Mama, bravely agreed to take me for a driving lesson – I’m sure it’s a day that she didn’t too soon forget because in trying to make a quick turn, I forgot to let the steering wheel go so that it could adjust itself and ran the both of us into a short ditch a mile up the road from our house. Thank God for the people that stayed some yards up from the incident, they ran out of the house to help usMud was so deeply embedded into the tires until it was hard to steer now. Mama took over the wheel and guided us safely back up the road to the house. I have to say mama never tried to teach me how to drive again after that. Instead when my older brother Taye came home in the summer’s from college that became his new summer task.

As I was leaving out of the driveway and making my way down the highway, mama’s death played in my mind like a record, I knew this would happen today even though I tried to erase it from my mind and just think on this event alone, It welled up in my mind like a balloon, Mama was young when she died she was just 60. Kidney Failure took her away from me. She had been on dialysis for the past 5 years, she had become so weak and fragile.

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Photo source/Fineartamerica/Xueling Zou

I did everything I could to take care of her even quitting my job to make sure that she had the best of care, even though the nurses came in 3 times a week, I just wanted to make
sure that she was comfortable and had everything that she needed. Before she passed on she told me one day to go to her closet and get down a orange shoe box that was in the top right hand corner of her closet. I did as I was told to do and went and looked for the box; after moving what seemed like more than 100 boxes I finally seen the orange bright box. I got it down and took it to mama whom was sitting on the couch looking so weak and tired, this saddened me deeply. The last thing I wanted was to watch my mama die a slow wrenching death right before my eyes. I brought her the orange box, she told me to open it and get out a brown envelope, I did as she asked; the brown envelope was laying right on top of some other papers underneath it. I felt mama’s cold hand now touching my hand, I turned to look at her looking at me with sad eyes.

I want you to open this once I am gone she told me. I was shocked, what was in this brown envelope that mama did not want me to open until after her passing, I was really confused at this point. I hope and pray that you will not be upset with me honey, everything was done for your good she told me. I was anxious to see what was in the brown envelope, but I dared not open it. About 4 weeks after that, mama died. I had gone out to the store to get her some ice, only to come back to be told that my mom had just passed 10 min ago. I believe she knew she was going and did not want me around to see her. That was the saddest day of my life. After mama’s funeral I was numb, I did not want to shower, take off my clothes or anything, all I wanted to do was just lie in the bed. As I reached my nightstand drawer, I opened it and there was the brown envelope staring me in the face. I hesitated at first to open it. But I remembered mama’s words and opened it anyways, out came some thick papers and a note that read:

Dear Angela,

If you are reading this letter then that means that I have gone on to be with the Lord. I just wanted you to know how much I love you and was so honored to have you in my life darling, you brought me so much joy. The day I got you I knew that you were special. Me and my husband couldn’t have any more children after the boys and I so desperately wanted a girl. So, we adopted you from this very nice couple, she was 15 – still in school and couldn’t take care of you, Her name is Virginia. She was the young lady at the Piggly Wiggly that day, you know, the couple that didn’t have the money to pay for the groceries? Once I realized that, that was your mom I knew I had to help her, afterall – she made my wildest dreams come true by giving me you.

She never wanted anything from me, I had not seen her since she left the hospital when you were born. I tried to reach out to her on several occasions but she was hesitant to accept offerings from me because of what she had done. When our eyes locked in on each other in the store, I knew I had to help. When I slipped her and her husband the money that day, it also contained my telephone number. We stayed in contact after that day, she would come around when I would throw you parties – but you wouldn’t have noticed her as she always kept a distance, but she was there. Unfortunately, she’s sick now and needs help. Her husband died 3yrs ago in a car accident and she has no family, but you.

Please make sure that her monthly bill is paid at the Daily Living complex as I have kept this up for her ever since her husband passed on. Please forgive me for not sharing this with you sooner, but your real mother was never in a place to where she was ready to meet with you; she was so, so young when she had you and never really got herself together to fully take care of you like she had hoped or desired. She knew one day that you would find out and would probably want to meet her. Sadly, sweetie – this is your opportunity. Don’t hate her, but love her – you’re the only family she has now. She had a couple of other kids, but lost them due to horrific miscarriages. I just want you to know, that it was never my intention to keep you from your birth mother – hopefully after reading this, you don’t hold any grudges against me either. 

But you’re my baby girl and I know with hearing this news – you would understand my heart. Take care of your mother, I know you’ll see to it that how ever many days she has left here on earth will be her best days – just as you did for me, when you arrived in my life…

I Love You Forever & Ever. 

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photo/pinterest/blackart/Jonnie K. Chardon

 

© Roshonda N. Blackmon, All Rights Reserved 

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without
prior permission of the author – Roshonda N. Blackmon

 

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Sunday’s Short Story: The Meeting, Part 1

photo source above and all pictures below provided by pinterest/blackart 

Original story by  Roshonda N. Blackmon 

Intro: 

The meeting is a story of a woman whom is struggling loss and the memories of her mother whom she soon discovers has kept a startling secret from her all these years. 

*    *    *

I awoke four times throughout the night; feelings of restlessness, anxiousness, nervousness and just downright confusion, all taking over my body like a plague. When I awoke the first time, I couldn’t help but pace back and forward up and down the floor like I needed a fix or something. My forehead, neck, armpits and nose all sweaty with perspiration, every time I tried to calm myself to lie back down; I got right back up repeating the same steps over and over again. I began repeating lines in my head like I was going out for a lead role in a major movie and needed to have my lines down just right…

After many tries of this scenario, I finally got up and trampled downstairs to fix myself some sleepy time tea, maybe this would ease my agonizing nerves so I could put my eyelids on shut down mode, even if only for an hour. As I sat there drinking my tea and slowly allowing its hot pressure to ease down my throat, a couple of childhood memories came flooding back to my mind. I began thinking about my first picture day at school. Savannah Park Elementary was the school I attended from kindergarten up until fourth grade, my dad was in the military, so making friends and being grounded in one place was out of the question for our family. 

Short Story: Broken Pieces

As I kept sipping my tea, I remembered picture day always being so important for mama. She would always get up extremely early just to make sure that I was not only ready but all dolled up for my “BIG” day. I remember her coming into the room always smelling as if she had just bathed in  fresh flowers scented with a little jasmine or vanilla. I always knew when she was near, her scent would meet me before she would. She would always look so refreshed, as if she had never gone to bed. She was always smiling and so full of life, I often wondered if she ever cried or had a bad day.

She would always wake me up with a soft touch of her hand stroking my hair backwards from my face, all while humming a tune on her lips. As soon as my eyes opened, I looked right into her big brown eyes with rollers still tied tightly in her hair. “Wake up Angela it’s picture day, she said, humming gently.  I have to admit I wasn’t so happy about that picture day as I had just lost my front tooth a week prior, so smiling was not something I was looking forward to displaying.  Somehow, I knew if I smiled, I would regret it from kindergarten up until senior high school; because mama didn’t care how I looked, she took joy in parading my pictures around for everyone to see – the only thing she knew was that I was her baby girl and I looked beautiful. She was so proud of me and always bragged about how blessed she was to have me. 

Black Woman - Little GirlOnce my mom finished pressing and curling my hair, she put me on  this pink ruffled dress with ruffled pink and white socks. It was cute and all but I was thinking to myself are we going to church? or am I going to school. Mama always overdid everything when it came to me. I guess that’s what happens when you’re the only girl in the midst of two boys. My mom was not only 

 

Black Woman - Little Girl2

crazy about me; but she was crazily compassionate about people as well, she never met a stranger she didn’t talk too. One Sunday after church we went to the Piggly Wiggly, which was one of our most frequent trips after Sunday service. As mama gathered the groceries and we proceeded to the checkout line, we stood behind a man and woman. I heard the cashier say  “That’ll be $45.26” the young couple who now looked perplexed about their food purchase, began looking at the two sacks of groceries in front of them. I heard the man say quietly, “We have to put something back honey, we don’t have enough.” I could tell this frustrated the cashier because her face turned from a smile to a frown in two seconds. My mom whom also noticed the transaction, immediately stepped in and told them not to worry, she would pay for their groceries. The man and the woman looked at my mom with tears in their eyes and said “God Bless you Miss” …. The man began to explain how he had been laid off of his job for a month now and had just found out that the company would not be rehiring him and quite a few other workers, the unemployment check he received on Friday was the last one until he finds another job and most of it went to paying bills. 

Check this play out: I Will Wait Until God Says, It’s Time – Part 1 

My wife and I only had $20.00 for groceries, he said sadly … thank you miss he kept saying, as he and the woman grabbed their bags to leave. The woman was in tears, she looked so sad and distant – she looked at me and smiled. My mother told them that they were welcome and put some extra money in their hand. That’s a day that I’ll never forget. When my dad got killed in the war when I was 12, my mom suddenly had to become both mom and dad. His death was a shock to us all, it was the first time I had ever seen my mother cry in front of me through it all, she managed to hold down two jobs, three kids and the bills. She was definitely my Proverbs 31 woman.

Black Woman2As I came to myself, I noticed my tea was gone; my cup now taking in the tears that dropped from my eyes. Thinking of my mother made me cry, as I now feel her pain and struggle of being a single mom and raising children alone, a task that I now unfortunately face. My husband of 10yrs left me a week ago to be with another woman. She needed him was all he told me and took his belongings and walked out. This was my second marriage to failure, my first marriage was right out of High School; we both were so young and thought we knew everything about life and love, but the responsibilities of the two took a toll on our young marriage and we divorced after a year. How did mama do it I began to think. What do I say to my twin girls, How are they suppose to cope with the fact that their dad left us to be with another family. How do I cope as a now ex-wife, my head began to hurt just thinking about it.

But, right now I have to pull it together and table those thoughts as I have something way more heavier than this to think about today. As I got up from the kitchen stool to head back upstairs, I could feel the effects of the sleepy time tea taking it’s toll on my body – quickly glancing at the clock on the stove, It was now 4 a.m.  Thank God for my older brother and his wife watching the girls for me. I need all the concentration in the world, I need to think and it would’ve been very hard with the girls going back and forward at each other’s throats. As I got into bed and began to settle into the covers – I could feel my eyes getting heavier and heavier, “Yesssss, I am finally feeling relaxed enough to fall asleep. I guess I have to tell Jackie that the tea does work, it reallyyyy issssss a goodd teaaaa …

It seemed like I had just dozed off to sleep, when I awoke to the annoying sound of my alarm clock!  DING, DING, DING, DING ……. what in the world? I woke up quickly out of my bed. Oh no!! Is it 8am already? Oh how I would love to get just two more hours in!! But the task ahead suddenly popped in my mind and I knew that I had to get up. I reached my hand over to quickly hit the off button on the alarm clock before it could remind me again that I had not taken the initiative to get out of bed….

To Be Continued…5/27/18

 

© Roshonda N. Blackmon, All Rights Reserved 

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without
prior permission of the author – Roshonda N. Blackmon

 

Feel Free to Follow Me on These Sites5_ (2)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Short Story: Broken Pieces by Roshonda N. Blackmon

It’s the last Thursday of the month and I thought I’d end it with a surprise, thanks to my little sister Driftyness – go check out her blog, if you get a chance. I didn’t know what I was going to write about and then she completed her Sunshine Blogger Award nomination and talked about how her favorite post of mine was the one & two part “I Will Wait Till God Says, It’s Time” play that I wrote and I was like, you know what? Why not do another one…

Continue reading “Short Story: Broken Pieces by Roshonda N. Blackmon”