Archives for : Over Bites

This Christmas

Lucy-Lampy-Christmas-2014

These lambs are Flip Flops--extremely relaxed animals--who were extremely relaxing to our mother during her last days.

Without our mother, we are trying to figure out our new Christmas normal.  My mother loved Christmas almost as much as she loved Christ or us rotten kids.  In our latter years, Christmas somehow came to revolve around her.  If someone teased my mother about opting to do nothing for Christmas, to not buy gifts, to not prepare a special dinner or, in essence, to treat Christmas as if it were an ordinary day, she would get a blank look on her face and become as quiet as a patient hearing bad news.

Then the moment like a flashback would pass, and all of a sudden she would object.  With her whole heart.

“No Christmas!” she would say.  “How can we NOT have Christmas!  We HAVE to have Christmas!”

My mother shopped for everyone . . . down to the fifth cousins who barely had a speck of original DNA in ’em (or the home-training to mumble a polite, Thank you.) 

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Grape Jelly Eaters

woman-as-life-children-as-joy

Dale C. Slavin’s “Joie de Vie,” a limestone sculpture on a granite base, looks like a single woman chilling with her children in Beachwood near The Land in Ohio.

My new doctor is Indian.  During a recent first visit, he asked if I had children.  When I told this graham-cracker colored man no, the look on his face revealed he rarely met Black women over twenty who were virgins to giving birth.  Then he went and asked me that other question, the question that comes first—I presume—if you are any other attractive single woman.  Why aren’t you married?

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Priceless: My First Ring

my-first-ring-a-teeny-handful-of-love

White light accenting the yellow sunshine at center . . . a whiskey quartz was the highest possible quality to fit the nine-year-old’s budget.

Marcus S. combed soft and wavy cat fur for hair and saw the world through eyes the color of ice tea in sunlight.

We never loved each other.

It was something the four of us agreed upon over a few days.

Marvin S. would be Kurtistyne B’s boyfriend.

Marcus S. would be mine.

We were nine.

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You Let Your Son Do What?

top ten signs you have no control of your son.

Have you given control of your son to someone else?

You Let Your Teen Do What?

teens growing up fast

Is your teen growing up too fast?

Right At The Door

Presdient Obama addresses the nation.

Could the rapture occur during the time of Obama?

As if I am a voyeur, I see a tall black man standing in my uncle’s backyard.  (My deceased uncle’s name is Matthew).  The man is standing under a large tree (an oak or sycamore, though no mottling on trunk) and he is dressed in a brightly colored suit (either primary blue or purple).  The sun is shining.  It is obviously spring or summer, given the color of the suit.  Suddenly there is an abrupt change in the weather.  It begins to snow.

The scene changes . . . 

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Ever Have A “Harry Potter” Moment?

"In seven years, seven months, or seven weeks..."

Rumor was that Karen got run out of her wealthy, mostly white neighborhood.  Something about all that (black) traffic coming to her door.  When I went to see her, narrowly a second had elapsed before I heard the frantic rustling and flapping of wings, saw black birds, as if startled by my presence, flying away from her as if she were a human scarecrow.  But I did not actually see the birds.  Nor did I actually hear those we-must-fly-away-now sounds.  I sensed them.  In that moment, sitting across from Karen, whose head was tilted, eyes closed in meditation, hands shuffling her beloved tarot cards, I was confounded as to who was the real witch, her or me.

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