Memoirs of a Moorings

Black Daddies

As the mother of a black son, I am particularly interested in the best way to steer him to success on all levels. In my reading, like in this article, there is one common denominator that guarantees success more often than not--their father living in the home.

The media is overflowing with stories about the plight of the black man. Matter of fact, as a test, I typed the words "The Black Male" into Google to see what would come up and this is the first item I got. If you were to come from another planet--or country for that matter--and just take the media's view of black men at face value this is what you would surmise about them:
Black boys stay in trouble.
Black young men are in jail.
Black daddies don't stick around.

I love black men/daddies—not just because I have one or because I’m married to one. I love them simply because they are like an enigma to society at large. Sure some black daddies don't stick around, but there are many who do. Where are the stories of those black men who are shouldering their responsibilities? I can name off more than a few. I’m surrounded by black daddies who are there every day—working, disciplining, wiping noses, giving baths, and tucking them in at night. Truth is, their stories are not heard or told enough. Right now I'm offering applause to all those daddies not representing the stereotype.

(Speaking of black daddies, head over to African American Dad, one my favorite new places to visit. Be sure to wish him a happy belated bday and read the antics of his three year old son! He also has a link to a cool site extoling the virtues of black men.)

Giving Flowers

I bought these flowers to brighten up the buffet table at the baby shower that I hosted for my cousin this weekend. A grand event indeed! Whenever I buy fresh flowers for the house it somehow reminds me of the dichotomy of life. I love the life they bring to the house--yet they always remind me of death. See--last year my next door neighbor died of breast cancer. I didn't know her well as we had just moved in. But her mother came over to welcome us with a lovely plant and introduced her daughter, who she mentioned had breast cancer. I would often hear the daughter in the backyard chatting on the phone or visiting with friends. One particular day I heard her sobbing--a heart-wrenching cry. I could only imagine the news she got. I wanted to go over and visit--offer a kind word, a prayer. But she had a bit of a rough edge and I wasn't sure how she would receive me.

Fast forward six months later. I started work full-time and thoughts of her got pushed to the back burner. I started seeing her less and she would be on my mind more. One week I thought of her every day. So I bought a card to let her know I was praying for her along with a bouquet of flowers and Christian book on healing. When I went to the door and asked for her, I was told by her teen son that she had passed away two days prior. You can't begin to imagine how my heart dropped. Not visiting her has been one of my biggest regrets in life. Lately I've been thinking of ways to encourage her young son who is now without a mother and living with his grandmother and younger sister. She left behind three kids in all and I just want to scoop them up and love them when I see them. But I don't know how. I've been praying for a small, simple way to let them know I care. God cares.

In thinking of my neighbor. I started thinking about a woman named Virginia Capers. Before I was married I worked for a newspaper where I interviewed celebrities regularly. She was one them. Many people may remember her from The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, but she before that she had a noteworthy career with many highlights--one of them being winning a Tony Award for her role in the original stage production of the musical "A Raisin In the Sun." I clearly remember the day I went to interview her. She lived in a sprawling ranch-style house in Woodland Hills, CA. Such a big house for an older woman living all by herself. She talked to me for hours. Took me on a tour of her home, the beautiful backyard. We sat in her new Cadillac while she played the soundtrack from her A Raisin In the Sun songs. She clearly was happy to have company. She offered me lunch. I declined. I'd enjoyed every minute of her time. But was dreading the traffic that I had to endure. I'm sure I made a promise to keep in touch. I didn't and when I went to look up her to reacquaint, I learned she had passed away in 2004 after a bout with pneumonia.

All that to say--take the time to reach out to those around you. With a kind word, a phone call, a visit. I'm dedicated now to giving flowers while people are alive and can enjoy them. Won't you join me?

Cupcakes and Culinary-ness

Growing up, I was surrounded by great cooks. My father is a genius in the kitchen. Love his shrimp fried rice and fried chicken! My grandmother's cooking and baking is divine--my favorites include her sugar cookies, Kool-Aid pie, lemon meringue pie......oh, I could go on. I'd run out of fingers counting the number of aunts who know their way around the kitchen blindfolded and can still manage to whip up a delicious meal. As a kid, I stayed far away from the kitchen during prep time. I was intimidated by all the boiling pots and the seasonings. So it's a miracle that I can cook now much less bake from scratch. I didn't start cooking until I was own my own--and then I would end up disappointed at the outcome--often due to the fact that I thought cooking meant using every single seasoning you had. Oh, praise the Lord for cookbooks and marriage. Without them, I would have never learned to cook.

I marvel now that I'm the one donning an apron and whipping up yummy desserts in my own kitchen. Mmm...red velvet cupcakes. A miracle indeed.

Indpendence Rules

In our household, the bedtime ritual consists of lots of mommy and Rhyan time. A book, prayer, pleadings for another book. Tonight as I got up to join him for our usual routine, the following conversation takes place:

Rhyan: Mommy, you stay right here.
Me:    What?
Rhyan: Mommy, you stay. I'm going to bed by myself.
Me: You don't want Mommy to go?
Rhyan: No. Stay here. Good night Mommy (cheerfully.)
Me: Speechless

Rhyan has been exerting his independence in all kind of preschooler ways now. But lately it's been in ways that surprise me. Like tonight. And today while shoe shopping, he couldn't have been any less interested in the shoes I had picked out for him. Instead we went home with a pair of Lightning McQueen tennis shoes. I have never been a fan of dressing him in clothing, much less shoes, with cartoon or movie characters on them. But he wanted them--and there was pure joy on his face when he tried them on (and the didn't come off until bedtime). Sometimes that kid know exactly how to get me..........and sometimes I just don't mind being gotten!

The Pursuit of Craftiness

Sometimes work simply gets in the way of life. More specifically life gets in the way of me doing the things I love: reading magazines, devouring books, spending time with my two favorites guys, decorating the house and making crafts.

As a former stay-at-home mom with just one year of working under my belt, I'm finding it hard to get in the groove with my creative outlets. So I've been putting it all on hold........but I can't just let work put everything else on the back burner. So I'm dipping a toe in, doing what I can. I recently finished up invites for my cousin's baby shower. Not exactly the way I envisioned them in my head, but it's a creative outlet and I LOVE that.

"For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin -- real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way. Something to be got through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life."
-- Fr. Alfred D'Souza

You've Got Mail

Every morning Rhyan gets a little note from my husband and I. His teachers call it "mail" and its read to the kids after morning prayer and devotion. It's been a year now since he's started at the school and I'm convinced that these little love notes help him remember that Mommy and Daddy are thinking of him. I often wondered if he even remembered what the mail said. So one day I asked him what his mail said. His reply: "Have a great day Rhyan. Love Mommy and Daddy." Yep, that's what it said. The kid is listening. So I take great care in what those notes say now. He even asks about them in the morning and has made it his responsibility to put it in the mailbox. I recently ran across this and this article about the power of a lunch box note. Needless to say I'll be doing this for years to come.

In the Moment

Lately I've been looking at baby pictures of Rhyan and wondering how he got to be such a big 3-year-old boy with such strong and vocal opinions.
-No Mommy, not that song!
-No Mommy I don't want to wear those shoes!
-Not that Tom and Jerry Mommy. I want to watch a better one!

I've said it before and I'll say it again. It's moving way too fast. I cherish my role as a mother. I love it when Rhyan takes me by the hand and says, "Let's go to Rhyan's room Mommy." He wants to hang out with me and that's very cool. But I know how quickly it all will change. It already is. He prefers to hang out with Daddy and spend Saturdays with him at the gym. Soon I'll be traded in for friends and social outings. It breaks my heart a little--this thing called motherhood. So I'm trying to drink it all in. Taste every single moment. Hold it in my hand gently like the precious jewel that it is.

Lately this has become one of my favorite quotes: "Making the decision to have a child-it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body." --Elizabeth Stone

I am slowing it down and living in the moment. Enjoying this little guy and every precious moment he wants me to share with him. Even if it includes playing trains days on end.

Memories

This has to be one of my favorite pictures from my childhood. The only thing I remember about this day is that we crammed ourselves into a photo booth and I tried to eat a handful of popcorn before the picture was taken. I have more fond memories of my childhood. Great music like Gladys Knight and the Pips, Minnie Riperton, the O'Jays and Shirley Caesar to name a very few. Trips to Fenton's Creamery on half days after school. Birthday parties at the Oakland Zoo. There were days spent in front of the record player dancing and singing. Joy-filled summer days that ended too early when the streetlights came on. Good friends. Friendly neighbors. I can taste the sweetness of childhood even now. I definitely have more good than bad memories. And that's exactly what I want for Rhyan and my stepdaughter.  A childhood filled with sweet remembrances. Overflowing with mommy's kisses and daddy's hugs. A home that's warm. A family that always wraps its arms around them. I often wonder what kind of memories I'm building for him. What he'll look back on when he's older. Here's to hoping he has some special ones! Hopefully he'll remember helping mommy make cornbread and getting pro lessons from his daddy--a four-time kickboxing champion!