fighting to stay strong this weekend

this weekend is Father's Day, and i am fighting with everything within me to not fall apart. also on this day, 19 years ago, i lost my mother. so i'm trying my best to not cry, like i did last year, when i went to pieces, because my dad had just died 3 months prior.

i think about the times when i was a little girl and how my dad would sometimes take me to work with him, and i would play on the typewriters pretending to be a secretary. i remember going to him for a pair of shoes my mama wouldn't buy for me, and how he'd bring me my favorite ice cream, chocolate, and sometimes take me to the park where the swings were, and give me a big ole push where i felt like i was flying. was i a daddy's girl? yes, i was. i wanted to go everywhere Daddy went, and would sometimes cry when he'd leave for work. i think Mama was a tad jealous that i always wanted to be with Daddy, but that's how it was.

as i got older, Daddy and i became kinda distant. i dont know what happened, but it seemed once i hit puberty, me and Daddy and Mama were like strangers in the house together. i would go in my room, Mama would sleep on the couch, and when Daddy would come home, he'd go to the other bedroom. and that's the way it was for a long time.

as i began to show signs of womanhood (breasts and hips) Mama would make me cover myself up in my robe. i wasnt allowed to wear anything that would emphasize my developing body (we were Muslims, so go figure). there were times when Daddy would come in my room and ask me how i was doing in school, and i would tell him. but, for the most part, Daddy would sometimes work into the early morning hours at the newspaper plant, to make sure the paper got out on time.

anyways, to make a long story short, i still loved and respected my father. when he got angry with me, and whupped my ass, i remember him saying "i'm going to give you something to remember" and at 47 years of age, i aint forgotten them whuppin's. when i got pregnant at 19, i thought for sure my father was gonna kill me, because Mama already had told me that she was, but surprisingly enough, Daddy was actually very calm about it, and merely asked how was i going to deal with it, and so on. Mama, on the other hand, was none too happy about me getting knocked up, and let me know in no uncertain terms speaking fluent Cuss, and telling me that i was a disgrace to the religion and that i had disgraced her, and i remember her slapping the everlovin' shit outta me when i tried to stand up for myself. however, once i gave birth to my firstborn daughter, in February, 1979, she fell in love with my baby, and pretty much spoiled her rotten, even to the point of wanting to take her away from me, because she felt i was an unfit mother, and a slut.

what brought that on? well, it was on a Sunday and Mama was raising hell about me, saying that i didnt need to have a child because of whatever, and she called me names like stupid, and i was trying to feed my daughter, while she ranted and raved at me. then she said something that brought the anger that had been brewing in me to a scorching boil...she said she would find a way to take my baby from me, because i wasn't shit, and i was in her eyes, a slut and an unfit mother. why, oh why did she say that? before i knew it, i had jumped up outta my chair and had grabbed a steak knife and told her with every ounce of rage i had that she wasnt taking my child away from me, because i would kill her first.

(side note: my dad had moved to South Carolina around 1977, because he and my mother wasnt getting on well with one another)

my mother looked at me like i had grown a third eye and told me to put that knife down, and i told her HELL NO. YOU TRY AND TAKE MY BABY, YOU OLD BITCH (yes i said "bitch") AND I WILL KILL YOU!" yeah. i lost it but my anger had reached a very dangerous level, and i couldnt take it no more. i scooped my baby up in my arms and went to my room and slammed the door shut.

but i digress. in spite of everything, i loved both my parents, and was deeply hurt when i lost them. i miss both of them very much, and as i said, i'm fighting to stay strong this weekend.

i think i can make it.