Skip to main content

My Daddy is sick...

Today I got a message from one of my cousins that my Daddy was in ICU. I didn't know what to think then and I don't know what to think now. I've been to visit, and got to see my sisters and a few of my nieces and nephews while at the hospital. My Daddy and I have not always had the most loving and respectful of relationships, but as time has passed and we've both grown older, we have a new type of love and respect for one another that seems to work well.

Seeing him laying there weak and tired, really messed with me. But isn't this a part of life? Everyone we love will some day pass on, whether we're alive to witness it or not. My Daddy has been sick for quite a while now, but this is the first time he's unexpectedly been hospitalized and it's an unnerving situation to deal with.

There's nothing that I want or need to say to him that I've left unsaid. Every time we see one another we embrace and I always tell him that I love him. Years ago, that wouldn't have been our reality. But now, I really can't imagine my life without him in it.

My Daddy was in prison or just away for many of my childhood years, and his uncle, my Uncle Buster, raised me along with his wife my Aunt Bertha. I'm blessed because I have had two sets of parents who have poured love all over and inside of me. We lost Uncle Buster over 20 years ago, and I'm just now getting to the point where I can talk about that without getting emotional. I'm just not ready to lose my father right now. I'm not done with him yet. There's so much in this world that I don't know about, mostly because I didn't want to listen when I was being taught. And I don't know how much more he can teach me in the physical state that he's in, but I'm willing to listen and just be a son for however long I have left with him.

I'm lucky that I even know my father. I've met people in my life who never knew their fathers, or met them well into adulthood. I've always know who my Daddy was and I've grown to understand that I'm more like him than he or I likes to even admit. We are both stubborn, smart, and hard to get along with because we like things our way.

I love my Daddy. I carry his name and his face. We cross our legs the same. We're both survivors of things that would have killed others without a fight. I don't know if I want to pray to the Ancestors for his healing or for him to be at peace. Is it selfish to want him here with me even if he doesn't have the same quality of life he once had? I'd never pray for his death, but I know that when someone's time comes, there's nothing a prayer can do. So instead of praying for a certain outcome, I'll just ask for understanding and the courage to be the man my family needs. I've got to be strong for my family, for my sisters, and for my family.

I really hope he makes a great recovery and the rest of his life can be happy and full of love. But if that's not the case, I just ask the Universe to allow me to accept whatever happens to my father. Maybe I'll write more when I feel the desire to do so, but as of now I'm just in limbo. I don't know what to think or do, other than tell him I love him and let him know I'm there.


Popular posts from this blog

The Good Witch of the South, A Beautiful Black Glinda!

I'm not trying to weigh in on the reviews about The Wiz Live. I really don't care about what folks thought about the adaptations to the story or the way it was produced, etc. Everyone in it was pretty damn good, the costumes were amazing, and once again Black people have shown the world that we can take things that might be old and outdated and bring them back to life. The idea that an entirely new generation of Black children now have something they will beg their parents to let them watch and re-watch, like I did with The Wiz of the 70's, makes my world a little bit better place. 

For ME, the most memorable moment was when Glinda, The Good Witch of the South, descended from the sky in a golden glowing gown. Accompanied by two acrobatic beauties, also gilded in gold on each side of her, my girl Uzoamaka Nwanneka "Uzo" Aduba looked more like an African queen than a witch at all. Her hair was black and braided, and her curves were obvious and featured without apolo…


Can you believe that I still dream of getting high
Even after being here for 85 days
In my sleep I buy a dime, and roll up a blunt
And smoke and try to wake up still John Blazed
But it isn't just weed that my mind craves anymore
It's the process and the act of getting high
Because it gives me the chance, to leave reality behind
And just float, like a cloud up into the night sky
I'm a drug addict, and it's not easy to admit
But being real is my best shot at escaping death
I've smoked tons of weed, snorted likes of coke
But I fucked up when I shot up with meth
We've all heard this saying, at some point in our lives
"What's good to you ain't always good for you"
Well that shit felt too great, and I knew it was no good
Because it took days before my body recovered
I'm not proud of that shit, but I live in my truth
And maybe I can help someone else avoid it
Because depression is a lie, and when you think you've lost your mind
All that'…