Tuesday, December 23, 2008

12.23.2008

7 Years...
Feels like 7 minutes
I'll always miss you.
I haven't "come to terms" with anything.
Things will never be the same.

I love You and Daddy!!!!!
I'llc ome see you later on. Be nice to each other!!!

Proud?

As I make mistakes and suck my teeth
Stubborn, pissed off most of the time
Taking bullshit like I work in a stable
Are you proud of me?
Trying to get comfortable in my own skin
Gaining weight and wallowing in the sorrow of insufficiency.
Always fearing failure
Walking the same walk, talking the same talk that you did
Are you proud of me?
In my darkest hour, when I'm unsure and distant
On my ugly days, when I lay down, cry and ignore my son
When I'm so hurt, I can barely breath
When I overthink situations 'till my head hurts
When I get upset because no one cares
When I miss you so much, things don't seems worth it
Are you still proud of me?
If you could be here would you?
Even though I'm not proud of myself
Are you?

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Anniversary

December 23, 2001
Jackie... we need you. We're just existing and going through futile motions. You know the world ain't the same without your color. Artists are left in a stump. Know that as your day approaches, I'll observe it. Missing you in the worst way.
If I can get a ride, I'll come visit you and Daddy.
Get your beauty rest, mommy. Love You.

Monday, December 15, 2008

Dreaming Again

I recently had one of the craziest dreams ever.........
Just bear with me on it.......

I can remember a good friend of mine calling me out on a rainy night and saying that she wanted to hang out. She came and picked me up in big black van with some other people I didn't recognize. Why the black van... I have no clue. Dreams are crazy sometimes. We pulled in front of a high rise building and went to a floor way up top. As soon as I stepped off the elevator, I had an eery feeling. Why didn't I ask questions before? We (a total of like 8 people) walk into a desolate apartment. There's newspaper clippings everywhere, books, old magazines, dishes, blah blah blah. But I notice that everything is a bit dusty. Everything is also in its place.... almost color/theme coordinated. Too perfect. Someone would have had to spend quite a bit of time on this. It may look simple to some, but I have an eye for disorders. The weird feeling didn't go away; it actually worsened and I began twitching. Finally, I asked, "Where are we?" My friend finally told me that we were in the apartment of last year's most famous serial killer. How we just walked up in there I don't know. Its assumed in the dream that the guy was never caught and he's been a fugitive for a year. I flipped out!!!!!!!!! Cussin' and jiving....
I left in a frenzy...

I hopped in a yellow cab and took it to Brooklyn. In the dream I lived in my old apartment; the one I lived in with Jackie before she died. My boyfriend was waiting for me. It was Denzel Washington. The crazy thing about this is that although I think Denzel is one of the best of our time, I don't look at him like THAT. But here he is. So I begin to take off my clothes and get ready for bed. Spewing about my night, he just listened. Mind you he wasn't there when I left. I lay down in the bed and calmly say, "Damn, I haven't heard from Mommy in a while. I wonder why she hasn't called. Where the hell is she?" Denzel just looked at me. Why the hell was he looking at me like that? I kept on, "You know?... I hate when she does that. What has it been...2, 3 weeks? This is silly. Ughhhh... Well, let me get to these dishes before she comes in and has a fit. " As I got up, Denzel pulled me down and stared at me with the strangest look I'd ever seen. It was as if he was trying to see through me. In his debonair voice, he said, "Bianca, your mom passed away last year. Don't you remember?" More cussin'... WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT? THAT SHIT IS NOT FUNNY. WHY WOULD YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT???? TELL ME!!!!! WHY DID YOU SAY THAT??? "It's true, Bianca."


I woke up in tears. What should I make of this?

Why is it that 7 years after her death, I still think I see her in Bloomingdale's. I still dial her # to tell her something important. For a split second, I actually expect her to answer. Then just as quick, it dawns on me. My grandfather still owns our old brownstone. I can't even walk up the stairs past "our" door. I haven't walked up those stairs in 7 years. I can't. Why does it feel so fresh. I swear...its like it just happened yesterday. That same pain I felt seeing for the last day, I can feel it now. I thought it would get better. Sigh. I need a minute....

Why am I trying to make sense of insanity?

What should I make of all this?

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Fashionably Late

You can't tell some people they're not fly. They could have on a kilt at a Black Panther meeting and get away with it without ever thinking they couldn't. That's how Jackie was. Everything was a show. She was always a star in her own sky...

My sister's Junior High School graduation...
I attended with a distant cousin which pissed me off because I wanted to roll in with my mother, but she had another appointment and said she would be late. I had to sit in between my sister's grandmother and someone who smelled like peanut butter. I spent most of the event trying to figure out who had Skippy in their pocket.

The students sang their songs and some boring people said their speeches. My sister's big head continued to pick apart the crowd behind her looking for her mother's face. I was excited when they called my sister's name to recite her valedictorian speech.

Beaming with pride, big sis did her thing. About halfway through, she went still...cold, even. There was nothing behind those big brown eyes. Her mouth was wide open and she was looking in our direction. I tried to catch what she saw... and there she was.... Jackie. My mother had on a skin-tight, red, leather dress with leopard skin stilettos, moseying her way across the row. EVERYONE in the crowd looked back. LMAO. A loud thump went through the auditorium. When the principal was finished being distracted with my mother's curves, he realized it was my sister fainting. LOL. It was hilarious. I was cracking up. They carried her off the stage and went to the next order of business.

After the ceremony, it was picture time!!! All the boys wanted to take pictures with my mother. They asked my sister if it was OK and she replied, "Hell No". LOL. My mother took the pics anyway. It was hilarious. In all of the pictures from that day, my sister has the meanest face. Lips all tight...eyes squinted. My mother is cheesin'...

My sister said, "But why does it have to be all about you?" She was such a pouter. Still is.
My kindergarten graduation was coming up. I begged my mother to wear that same outfit. She said that would be tacky. I told my sister I wish my graduation could be that exciting. She told me to shut up and keep rubbing the knot on her head.

Saturday, August 30, 2008

Missing Jackie in the worst way

Someone told me that as time progressed, I would feel better...things would get easier. I'm sure they had good, consoling intentions, but I would never tell someone something like that.

It's been almost 7 years and I still feel like it was yesterday. I can't think about her with tearing up. Its so hard. Getting older was supposed to bring more wisdom, but it has led me to seek more and more of her guidance. Its like she left without showing me the things I really would have liked to know. How to be a mother... How to manage my finances... How to handle heartbreak and juggle 3 tasks at once. I'm learning through trial and definite error. I can't even pick up the phone and just ask a quick question. She was gone so abruptly and I hate that.

I had a dream that I picked up and left. I got a plane and flew to some undiscovered island in search of a new beginning. When I go to the center of the island, I found Jackie washing her feet in a small spring. She looked radiant. Her smooth chocolate skin permeated through the rest of the beauty around her, standing its ground. She looked up and smiled at me as if she knew I was coming. She lay back on the rocks and breathed in the clear air around her. I joined her. We just stared in each other's eyes and had an unspoken conversation. I cried...hard. Still smiling, she said, "It's OK". She got up, gave me a flower that I've never seen before and began to walk away. I ran to chase her, she wasn't getting away a second time. But its seemed that no matter how fast I ran, I couldn't keep up with her... mind you she was walking (dreams, right). I tripped and began bleeding. She looked back, then kept walking. I don't remember the rest.
There was a certain freedom about her....I envy her.

So when will I feel better. Hell, I'm crying while I'm posting this. I ask myself everyday. I miss her with everything I have. Its a pain that I can literally feel. It hurts in my throat, arms, legs, and chest... even my back. I can almost feel my heart breaking. And no amount of singing, writing, cursing, or crying eases it any. It feels like I just saw her leave yesterday. I try to remember her in life, vibrant, energetic... as she was. But it only leads me back to her death. I know she wouldn't go for that, but I can't help it. There are so many remnants of her everywhere...at least to me there is. Salsa music...she loved it. Red and black...her favorite colors. My thoughts...I'm more like her than I'll admit. My son....
I used to participate in the AIDS walk religiously. But now I'm down to sending money and staying home crying. I can't do it anymore.
With my birthday approaching, I'm trying to rejoice. But all I can think about is her not being here.

Friday, July 25, 2008

Confidant


My mother is one of the coolest people I know. Her smile was magnetic. People just flocked to her. She had tons of friends. All of them looked different and had different stories. My mother always lent her ear and heart...just in Jackie's way.

I can remember my mother shaking her head in disgust when her girlfriends would confide their woes. The smell of menthol cigarettes and Chinese takeout visited along with the trouble. Jackie would order out. She said that the time spent cooking would take her away from the "good shit".

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Jacqueline Sandra Antoinette Shury (and later Carter) was born on February 12, 1961. Not on 2.14.58 as she would have most believe. Born in Queens, New York and shipped to Guyana, she stood second to the youngest out of 8 siblings. Her mother was somewhere between manic depression and schizophrenia. Her father spent years trying to compensate for the mistakes he made in choosing the person to have children with.
Jackie (as everyone called her because she simply wouldn't have it any other way) attended Bethune-Cookman College as graduated with a degree in Human Services. She had 3 children.
In 1991, Jackie became pregnant with her last child... the boy she wanted. It was at this time she was diagnosed with the Human Immunodeficiency Virus (HIV) along with her unborn child.

My mother fought for 10 years.
She was tired.
So finally, she rested on December 23, 2001.

This is the surface. The memories I have are so much richer and full of life. I feel obligated to remind those who have forgotten.