The Man...Michael Jackson

Pain. Both physically and spiritually, emotionally suffering. No one can really understand the full gist of what he endured. Because until you have 'stood' under the pressure, and loneliness, and ridicule, and bitterness, and sometimes pure hatred surmounting in the battle of attacks on your person, your persona, your life, your memories, your family, your status, you can't touch it.

Albeit, we (the world) watched his transformation, but we really never fully understood it. Although the well written article by Howard Dodson, Director, Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture attempted to articulate the gravity of the person of Michael Jackson, it failed to acknowledge this one thing: That in his 'giving' he was the example to the world that that was the true showmanship.

We can talk about a whole a lot of things but let's talk what it really is. When you have given so, that books attempt to record that which they cannot. When you gave not only from your pocket, but also from your soul and when it is depleted and nothing returns. Then the question is asked: What was he filling up on? Who or what was pouring in to him?

He was giving. Did he give too much? Was too much expected? Is that where he lost sight of the real, in the self-less?

I don't know. None of us do. We just know we lost Michael, why? Only his Creator knows that. For a man is allotted a certain time upon this earth and then...But I guess the only thing we really do know, is what he left, and it wasn't a dance.

Put It To The Pen

I swear it seems as though I have lost more loved ones this year than any other time in my life! I am writing this entry in Times Roman font because my very close girlfriend who recently passed away told me she absolutely hated this font.

No I'm not using this font in dishonour of her but exactly the opposite...I am honoring her through the 'Pen.' The electronic pen.

Girlfriend left here barely turning 40 years old, having had no children, no husband, and the one confessed love of her life was a married man in an adulteress relationship. After twelve years of that deception, she settled in to being alone because (1) She was in her mind, unattractive, (2) over 40 and the selection of men both black and white was very narrow, and most of all, (3) she weighed well over 400 pounds.

But here is where the real deception begins. She felt unattractive because she looked nothing like societies standard of beauty....thin, white (or trying to be), long, full-bodied hair, with beautiful eyes, preferably blue ot green.

Yet she was the most creative person I ever knew. She was one who really could take nothing and make something.

She started a beautiful bridal and craft business for the woman on a budget. She vamped everything as a replica of high fashion/high society into something of very similar quality but with the utmost frugality.

She was an avid learner of technology, components and applications. She taught herself the pc, multimedia components, expansion and optimization and truly possessed a CIA-type characteristic when searching the internet for anyone or anything....public or private. As she so often stated, "If it's out there, then I'm the niggah to find it."

But even more amazing, she was a pronounced singer. Her style of singing was void of a myriad of runs and guttural sounds as she hated that. She could stand flat footed and sang. She as I, loved all genres of music. It didn't matter as long as you had melody, tempo, originality, and vocal strength. She loved music.

And yet she left here without ever accomplishing her feat. I guess you could say this is my eulogy to her. That I'll always remember her for what she didn't do.

You wouldn't travel, you wouldn't record a cd, you wouldn't visit your sister in the midwest, you wouldn't pack up and leave here to pursue your dreams, you wouldn't gain the confidence needed to promote you, you wouldn't speak up for you, you wouldn't attend anything outside of your comfort zone. You let others dictate your life with their disencouraging words.

Because of this I even look further at my remaining friends and family members and see some of the very obstacles she faced in them. And I wonder to myself, why can't you just get passed that? Why is that so important?

Then I look at myself and wonder why I haven't pursued one major task in my life. Why has it taken me so long to accomplish this one feat? What's stopping me? What else has to happen? Who else has to die or leave before I accomplish this? Is my life void of financial success because I haven't pursued this? Quite possibly, it is.

Since 2000 I have been prompted to write a book inspired with the passing of my father. Now a second book inspired with the passing of my mother sits upon the shelf of my mind waiting to be produced, written and published. Wow! Two New York Times Bestsellers and they're not off the shelf yet. Why?

Do I lack the same confidence and inspiration as my girlfriend(s) and relatives living the same life?

At best I can say sometimes yes, then sometimes, no. I think it's a matter of prioritizing. Up until Girlfriends demise, it just wasn't a priority. It was always I'll get to it. I'll do it after I purchase a laptop. Got that and still haven't started. I need to pursue this other stuff first and then after making a name for myself, then...Yeah right.

Well that all changed the day I stood looking down at her, stiff, ashen, cold, dead. Not coming back; deceased.

See you at the book signing.

She's Back...Slowly, But Surely

It's been more than three months since I've posted anything in here. When reading the last 3 posts, one cannot help but notice the sadness that had consumed my life. Wow! Dealing with the death of a loved one, especially a parent is incomprehensible. You just thank God you get on the other side of it, where your mind begins to wrap around it and you can finally articulate what you're feeling.

Well thanks to His strength (certainly no one else's because no one could;d pull you through that but Him) I am at a turning point where the sun is shining again and I care to see it shine.

My life had gotten so detached that I simply forgot that this blog even existed. It's a funny thing...The mind that is. You can go so deep within that no one knows where you are. People can look at you and even talk with you and never where you are.

I do recall this one special someone in my life said to me, "I'm glad to see you back. Oh you've been here physically, but mentally you had checked on us. I can see that you're back now." that person is right....I'm back now.

Reading, music, no commitments, patience, driving with no where to go, and talking with someone who doesn't have a stake in my life one way or the other and a whole lot of people praying for me, helped me to get to this point. One of the hardest things I had to encounter was clearing my schedule, dumping my appointment book in the trash, and giving myself the time and space to heal.

I continually felt I had to meet all these obligations and demands on my life. I couldn't sleep at night because I thought I had to perform for everybody and everything. One day after awakening, I sat on the bed for and hour and a half, unable to get dressed, unable to pull myself together or even gain composure, I knew it was time to walk away so healing could begin in my heart and then in my mind.

When daddy died, my foundation shook. When mama died, my heart shook.

Someone once said I had a way with words. I replied, "You can't talk about it unless you've been there."

Things are different in my life now as they should be after moving forward in life with both parents deceased. It's brought the siblings a bit closer. The other day while talking on the phone, I overheard one brother say to the other, "I love you." I smile. Even my heart smiled on that one. And so did my brother as he replied, "I love you too." Then I almost burst into tears.

So we had to grew up just a bit more. We have had to stand and be strong for each other at intervals. But our parents we have be proud of us because we did just that. We made it through the holidays and entered a New Year, witnessed the election of our nation's first Black president, and even closed some doors on worn relationships that were never to regain momentum while others flourished.

I even went out and enjoyed a beautiful Black History Month celebration and saw Big Pete Pearson perform. I talked with him after his performance. I fell in love with him all over again. But more importantly, moms favorite Gospel singer, Greg Kelly of Greensboro, NC, was here with his group Foundation....They were marvelous! As I drove home I told mom all about it.

Now I can tell you about it - And want too!

She's back!

And For This I Say (The Day After Obama Was Elected)

My head is throbbing, my spirit is stirred and my soul is anchored and my heart is reaching.

Today, the sobering effects of the greatest election in US history has hit me and left me weeping.

Some of us are bit weary, worried, sensitive, cautious, expectant, glorified, audacious, and even scared.

Yes...And as always we move forward. We look pass the sneers and even jeers, we wink and nod, we shake hands and embrace for yes truly we witnessed a great and awesome political race, but now, is when the true work begins.

For now we have to live true to our word and true to our brothers concerns. Now with no more excuse, we have to stop violence, hatred and abuse.

For if we've truly come this far by faith, then we must remain on course whereby keeping our course straight.

For if we fall now it can only be our fault, because we strayed away for the truth that we were taught.

And so it came to pass on this day, that the wish and hope of our forefathers has come to be in such a glorious way.

Your Baby Girl, Kimetta Coleman (Dedicated to my dad, the greatest political activist I've ever known, Evangelist A.C. Coleman, 1917-1999)

Year 45 And Counting...It Was A Good Day

Mom, today was good day! I woke up to Deborah Jean's loud music and shower as usual. But this time it was different.

When I first opened my eyes I was certain it was 7:30am because it looked as though it was very early. It even seemed as though there was an overcast and that would have been absolutely marvelous for Phoenix this time of year as you well know.

But it wasn't an overcast neither was it early morning. Actually, I woke up at 11:11am...Wow!

It was time for sis to leave for work and it being my birthday, I knew I had probably missed several calls. And you know I was right. Because when I turned on my phone I had 5 voice mails waiting and 6 or 7 text messages downloading.

Mom, MC called and left a message. I had to listen to the voice mail again and again just to figure out who he was. Loretta and Venus called, Mariyah was crying in the background. They were treating my baby like a dog, dogs.

We had a long talk about how I had been feeling on yesterday, and now how I was feeling especially since God had come and lifted me through that poem of Steph's. You know, the one you dictated.

Mother Ward Called also, remembering that my birthday was the day after hers. She says she's 39 (93 turned around) and if she can be 39 I certainly can be 21. Ebenezer called with his beautiful self, and Allen James know he shocked me with his birthday rendition. Oh, and I know I've arrived because Mr. Jeffrey Tease himself called and wished me 'Happy Birthday.'

I spoke with Tanya, and she gave me your message. She told me how you visited her in the hospital. She told of how you were concerned about your children, but me, you were concerned with moreso. But she didn't say why. Only that you told her she had to come back here and see after me. She told me she had my back. Thanks mom.

Timothy texted me a happy birthday greeting but didn't come over nor did he call. Of course nothing from Joel, but that's okay.

The people who did call and come: Querida, Pastor Reid and Bev, Lil Sharon Wilson and big Sharon Black, Even Alton texted. Stephanie, was the best and Sadie called before she had any rest.

Me and Deb stopped by switch, she had Mac and cheese, me, a sandwich.
So now before I turn in, I stopped by to say, Mom, it's my 45Th birthday, and although without you here, it really was a 'good' day. Even Lorenzo from Francisco texted to wish me a Happy birthday.

Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, If I should die before I wake, Thank you Dad for a great day, for all the play, and a mom that shined from above through the hearts of so many, to keep it that way!
Goodnight mom...and Dad!

TheCounselor

PS Brina said I could be 21 for 24 hours, but tomorrow...I have to be 33!

Today I Cried

Today my tears fell as I wept from grief. Tomorrow truly the day that I am supposedly to rejoice, all I do is fear.

For you see I turn yet another year older, without my mother of whom I loved so dear.

I looked for her to come in my room singing as she always would. But not this time because she's lying in the ground encased in wood.

Mom, I'm mad at you because you left. And even though we're still here with uncertain futures adept, I just feel that there's nothing and no one left.

I sit here and sit here with each passing day I stare at your face, wishing and hoping you where elsewhere than in that place.

Get up mom, c'mon and let's go, Dillard's is having a sell and Nordsrom's a fashion show.

My heart is aching and even times shaking, I feel like I'm still holding my breath, moment by moment since the day you left.

So tomorrow I face that once special day. But now without you it's as though it was hit with massive decay.

No life left in it, no looking for something new, because right now at this time, simply, I'm just blue.

TheCounselor

When Is Closure Really Closure

When is closure really closure? This comes at a time when it seems as if I have come full circle since my mother's death.

I remember being so angry at this one individual because I felt he didn 't respond to her death or to me as he should have. For many months after the fact, I cut off all contact from him. No phone calls....Nothing!

A few weeks ago, after giving a lecture at a local organization, I found myself feeling very insecure and uncertain. I felt numb and paralyzed with fear. Fear of being invisible. Never being supported anymore, never being encouraged...Simply put, not having anyone in your corner waving the victory flag for you when trying to make it to the finish line. It's a funny thing about death, especially the death of parents.

Good parents encourage their children and be very supportive. Great parents are those that become bridges for their children to cross over on. They kindly, graciously and patiently give to theirs the rites of passage from childhood to adulthood. Death snatches that bridge away. you grope for stability, a landing, a strong foothold to concreteness. What you find is truth. Your foundation becomes truth. Truth as to who you really are. What you are made of? And to what or to whom have you now become?

I placed a call, yes, I finally put my pride and fear aside and made that call. He didn't answer. Whew! I was so glad. I didn't have to face his sarcastic loathing. I didn't leave a message. Then the unspeakable happened...He returned the call.

I took a deep breath. I answered right before the voicemail picked up. Nervous jitters, stomach hurting. Awkwardnes, repeateded hello's and how-are-you-doings. Okay, the real reason I called.........

Wow, although difficult, I got through it. Yes, I cried when I heard his politeness and encouraging words. His reasurring tone and the hand holding that gave me of what I needed most. And of course I couldn't utter a single word. And for that time, i really didn't. I needed to hear him. Tears continued. This is what I had missed, not just from him because this he seldom gave. I needed to know I mattered to someone. And but for a short minute, I mattered.

It mattered that I was on the other end of the phone. It mattered that I wanted to talk to him. It mattered that I was telling him I no longer held the anger and disappointment toward him that I did no matter if it was warranted or not, because the thing that mattered most, was that I had come full circle and was seeking the closure I needed to move on.

Freedom! Freedom had finally come from within. No longer wanting to hate, no longer wanting to be angry, no longer second guessing my actions because I was afraid someone would pull the rug from underneath me; Someone sitting idly by waiting to slap me down when I reached up.

Uh-oh, here comes the but. Eventhough that conversation went extremely well, my original feelings for ending the relationship where just as valid as before. He didn't see it that way. He thought it was an open invitation to come back and start the relationship up again. NO. That wasn't it at all. I thought this was explained at the very beginning of the call. So his repeated phone calls that ended on a casual note and not a romantic one left him feeling slighted and ignored. Wanting and waiting for something more. But there was no more. There was nothing more to give.

The closure I was seeking clearly was not what he had been hoping for all these weeks and months. He saw it as a new beginning. I saw it as complete closure to a relationship that was obsolete from the beginning.
Unfortunately for him....He thinks I'm over here sulking and being mad at him, when in reality I've simply moved on.

At What Point Do I Go Out To Play?

No one knows better than I how loneliness can drive you seemingly insane. You begin to think about old friends and even enemies at some point. You can even go as far as to rethink their cruel attempts to cut you down as something you can live with if only it would take away that which is driving you...Loneliness.

So I find myself sitting, reminiscing of a time when life in the fast lane was like the 'thang' to do. Fast cars, men, and friends. Never bored and never alone. As a matter of fact, there were times when all you wished was to be alone.

Times change. We change. We hear the old saying, Staying Young At Heart, to mean what?

When going out 'to play' seems like something that was left so far in your past you actually forget what play was. Was play the foolish words and phrases we used? Or was it the crazy haircuts and fashions we wore? Or maybe the zillions of guys we dated only to throw them away like last years shoes? What was play and why do I long for it now?

Was it a time when I had both parents and my security blanket was tight and snug? Or was it a time when they were just both here on earth?

Maybe it was when I felt like changing hairdo every other week, including the color? Was it seeing how my daughter's friends would whisper how cool their mother was? Maybe even taking a bus ride for the hell of it because I could and then flirting w/the driver?

What was going out to play? I wish I knew so I could do that now because my life now consists of... Not going out to play.

It Ain't The Storm Outside That Got Me

Only the sistahs may be able to feel me on this one. Today I woke up a little tired from last night's sleep. It seems as though I fought all night while sleeping. Simply speaking...I didn't sleep at all last night!.

Joe Simon sang a song once entitled, "I've got trouble in my home." I'm speaking metaphorically y'all. I've got trouble in my home (within) and it ain't no smooth sailing. Ain't it funny how love is. It can make you cry, make you fighting mad, keep you up at night, having you feign at even the slightest thing.

One of the strangest things about love is the way it can creep up on a sistah. No matter how full you make your schedule, no matter what hobbies, intrerests, books or pen pals (now chat rooms) you create, when you get through, love comes a-knockin at the door.
Just when you least expect it. But wait...There's more. Here's the punch to the gut. The one you're in love with is the one off limits. Don't touch. Don't cross the line. Don't back up, don't look both ways or any of that. He has one problem and that one just won't do. He's too mean. He don't love me like I love him and that just won't do.

His deep baritone voice spoken oh so low, his 6ft, 4in height on sugary brown skin just can't wait. But one thing is true, he's full of the blues. This one will make my tears and the promised heartache do more than make my spirit quake, one blow from that mean king, and I'll feel more than a slight shake. It would be a full quake.

Please know that I am not weak behind a man, any man for that reason. I ain't never found a man like this one before. Yes, he's from the Dirty-dirty, but that ain't all. He drives a long Lincoln, and even rolls an 08 Navigator, he's a mans, mans.

No he has never ever touched me. But I can see something there that shouldn't be. Even with all his finesse and the big throbbing beautiful manly chest, yes, there's something there. Something that shouldn't be. Something that's crying aloud and calling me.

So I had to leave it alone, a long, long time ago. But last night it woke me up. He woke me up. I feel him pulling on me. He's in my dreams. He's everywhere I'm supposed to be. When I'm on the freeway, he passes by (in my mind's eye), when driving through the street, he's standing on the corner watching me. He's even in my shower, Hey! I didn't know he had that much power.

So tonight I'm fightin it, I'm fightin it with all I know. I't's 2:30 in the morning and it's just me and the Pandora (music genome) Show. Right now this is the only thing I know to do.

I Guess I'm Being Nostalgic

Nostalgic - 1. A wistful desire to return in thought or in fact to a former time in one's life, to one's home or homeland, or to one's family and freinds; a sentimental yearning for the happiness of a former place or time: a nostalgia for her college days (Dictionary.com).

I had to make sure what I am feeling and preparing to expound upon is actually what I am feeling right now.

I wish I knew what triggers nostalgic moments. I have no idea what sparks our mental psyche to wish or long for days or times even places from our past. I only know it happens. One day you awake looking for a trace of time long gone.

My mom recently died as I have stated in an earlier post and today while my sister and I were fellowshipping with one another (yes, I said, fellowship), I began to long for the days when we would play outside. Living in the same neighborhood for more than 40+ years my sister has definitely seen some changes, even since my return 3 years ago, the changes I've witnessed are at best heartbreaking.

Although the changes we're experiencing are not from any catastrophic storm but are the result of big business and land development. The airport 'wants' the property and we must go (so they say).

It's odd not seeing the old folks who used to spank us when doing wrong, waiting to tell daddy when he got of work only to end up with another 'whoopin' because old Mother Jackson had to get after us. Or what about the ice cream man (that was usually the church deacon who had fresh fish for sale as well) that everyone knew was coming at a certain time of day...Everyday!

Now when I look out the door I see what once was. Friends that I grew up with are no more. Their homes have been demolished, now standing with fences surrounding the propertry with 'No Trespassing' signs attached.

I don't feel attached to anything anymore. Things are just so uncertan heretofore. In a day and time like this, we don't even know what politicians are going to do. We don't even know what true relationships we have or not. Uncertainty is plaguing this land.

I guess mama was right, 'Time brings about a change, and the one thing that is cetain, you better know Jesus because He's the one thing that is constant. His love for us never changes. And you better be ready to meet Him when He comes.'

So I guess I'll look forward to seeing her again...Up there, where Jesus is.

Visions

The Whole World Is Watching

Needless to say that Hurricane Gustav is NOT Hurricane Katrina and 'Thank God' it wasn't. Yes, there were evacuations and preparations for what could have happened and rightly so. But, whew! The storm weakened and the City of New Orleans was spared a second detrimental blow.

And though we are not inundated with further pictures of the destitute walking in waist high water, nor of them hopelessly and raggedly strewn out across rooftops helplessly waiting for someone to compassionately and expediently rescue them, but here's what we did experience.

We sat by our televisions and/or telephones (for those of us that have loved ones in the region) watching and waiting with breath held to see the outcome of what we thought would be the last destructive blow against this beleaguered city.

We cringed when news reports began with the words, " And in New Orleans today...". We were afraid that our hearts would bow to the scenes of infants lying hungry and thirsty with parents frantically seeking any measure of help.

We were scared to watch the destruction of a city where men from afar boasts of food, music and good times upon the shores of the gulf...in Nu Awlins (New Orleans).

We leaned upon each other and watched pictures come across our TVs and computer monitors as we scanned the faces and the familiar places, praying and hoping they weren't hampered by nature's destruction.

We still watch and wait as the hurricane turns and chooses yet another course. We now look to Texas where many have evacuated New Orleans, running with all in tow to the refuge that Texas will offer. As we wait, we breathe only slightly easier because we know that as Gustav rolls out, another soon rolls in.

Food and Sex Alike in New Orleans

So my girlfriends are chatting one night about the Food Network Show, Iron Chef America. Well wouldn't you know it here's a chef from Spain absolutely making the best mouth-watering dishes you can imagine.

He makes this dressing from habernero peppers, avocados and chardonnay wine. Awesome right. When explaining to the judges how he came to make this vinaigrette dressing he stated that while visiting in New Orleans...

There was absolutely no reason for him to continue. I almost fainted. New Orleanians have a few things to boast of but I cannot think of anything that tops their food. Superb! The taste is in the food from the ground. As a matter a fact, while dating a guy from the region he often talked of food as if he were making love. He made me envious of a soft-shell crab.

I remember a girlfriend telling me about a man she once dated from New Orleans. He was very passionate and patient. She often described their relationship as the 'twinkie' love. It's so appetizing you want to go after it full force but once you grab it and go full force it just kind of dissipated in your mouth.

And you always wanted a second one because the first one went too fast. The way he lingered over her when he would come pick her up from work and seemingly lure all the women(trying not to watch) into their aura as he helped with her jacket or bags.

How his hand glided down her arm toward her hand, like pulling a piece of succulent shrimp or lobster from your mouth. Wow...Uh I gotta come back to this later. Whew!

Why Is New Orleans So Spellbinding?

What is it that makes us flock to New Orleans pre and post-Katrina in a madhatter sprint to get to the 'Forbidden City' or to the 'Voodoo Capital' of the world?

Of all the cities in the world I can think of, none holds the wicked and adventurous intrigue as New Orleans does.

You never hear people speak of this city in any romantic sense, neither do they speak of it as a financial powerhouse. You never hear statements regarding New Orleans as anything other than food, music, and getting blatantly wasted on alcohol.

So what is the lore? The luster? The gain? Even the promise? Hit me up with a post and I just might tell you of an intriguing story that involved me and a quite memorable vacation there.
Who knows...You might just get mojo'ed