I confess, guilty as charged, I am happy to say farewell to 2017; a year of tremendous physical, mental, spiritual, and financial struggles. In the process of reading, this please resists the urge to play the world smallest violin. This is not the ranting of a person who considers themselves a victim of life’s discomforts. I am in need of answers as to why since I decided to transform myself from a an unskilled, under paid healthcare worker, to earning a Master’s in Education, self-publishing two novels and while on this journey of reinventing myself, I’ve experienced very few highs and an enormous amount of lows.
Recently, I was displaced from my home of six years due to a Grinch of a property owner, who did not give me enough notice to locate a decent and affordable apartment. The word roommate has always terrified me, but almost being homeless has taught me that, what we fear, we may one day have to face. Currently, I have two roommates. A year and I am still trying to cope with the anger of having to abruptly dismantle my beautiful one bedroom apartment; and downsize to a large room. Therefore, I ate, ate, ate stuffing myself with sweets, bags of delicious greasy potato chips, pretzels, breads, and fried foods; anything to ease the pain and soften my bitterness. I have eaten my way into twenty extra pounds that I am charged with loosing or face developing some unwanted health issues that will complicate my life further.
Oh, it gets better.
After a long absence from the drama of dating, I met two middle-aged men (57-60) I felt at least one would be a good match. Wrong! Both were losers looking to relive the glory days of their youth. They want young, sexy, and perky girls. What a joke, who are they kidding, these old saggy men who private parts have more mileage than a grey hound bus.
Breath this is too much …….
Between moment of insanity and reality I stopped to think about my 22-year-old handsome nephew, newly college graduate, on October 4, 2017 he decided he no longer wanted to live. He held a gun to his head and in one clean shot ended his life.
I conclude we live in a society where individualism and greed is the norm; and we, us, and they have been forgotten. Compassion has been replaced with hatred; and the creed “Am I my brother’s keeper” is now “mind your own business.” Moreover, genuine love can no longer be found in a society that is ruled by materialism and the mentality of Dog eats dog. To his I say,
Good riddance to 2017, Hello 2018 let the games begin.
People are speculating about the reason for the sudden increase of mass shootings, and other acts of terrorism. Some blame religious fanatics others claim random acts of evil. An interesting theory came from a colleague who suggests that we are the cause for these terrible events. He explains that it is our collective thinking and behavior. He also believes that society is void of basic acts of humanity, in addition, to lacking the ability to connect to simple emotions that binds us to the one true race, the human race. We stand firm in the continued practice of segregation, based on race, gender, and religious beliefs. There are those among us who are committed to the rule of a superior race deeming all others inferior. The greed of corporate America putting profits over people, instituting the practice of ruling their employees by fear, thus instilling anger, bitterness and resentment into the minds of those who are just trying to make ends meet. Genuine love and living by the motto “I am my Brother’s Keeper” is a long forgotten value. This country has given into foul play each time a particular group of people screams injustice. We live in a society where Reality TV is the norm, the conversation of the day is what happened on the show Empire, while this generation runs rampaged exploring sexuality to the tenth level; not to mention that teaching morals, ethics and good values is no longer on Americas’ agenda. We are spinning out of control, and to make matters worse, our world and religious leaders are still playing the game of separation of church and state. Therefore, these incidents will continue to happen until we decide collectively to think about the good of the one true race, the human race.
What Say You?
Detective Mici woke from a deep sleep he thought he heard a noise. He reached for his gun; and left the bedroom slowly making his way down the dark hallway. He walked down the stairs keeping his back against the wall, entering the living room, the light from the street shone inside the room. Mici saw the shadow of a person holding a bloody knife standing over a body. When the person heard the clink of the gun, he quickly escaped through the broken glass door dropping the knife. Detective Mici waited a few minutes; he walked over to the window, surveying the area, there was silence. He knew not to touch the evidence, searching for the phone, he called his old precinct.
“Hello, 29th precinct SGT. Moore, what is your emergency?”
“This is Detective Mici, I have a situation at my house that requires police assistance.”
“Are you injured?”
“Can you give me a description of the situation?”
“Yes, there is a dead body in my living room.”
The officer dispatched all units in the area; within minutes Det. Mici’s house is surrounded by police activity. Among the officers is his old friend Chief Jefferson. Walking through the house and he Det. Mici siting in the living room being questioned by an officer. The Chief interrupts the interview,
“Thank You officer I will take it from here.” Chief Jefferson sits next to Det. Mici, He whispers, “How should we handle this situation?”
“By the book old.”
“Ok. I’ll leave you alone with your thoughts; this is going to make a hella story.” Chief Jefferson said.
Det. Mici flashbacked to the previous night, He remembers staring at the bottom of a bourbon bottle after gulping the last drop. A voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Det. Mici, I was told to escort you to the station.”
Looking up at the officer he said, “I understand.”
Chief Jefferson awaits Det. Mici at the precinct. As they walked through the precinct, the Chief announced….
“This is Det. Mici, he is one of our top veterans.”
“He is a suspect shouted one of the officers.”
Chief Jefferson replies in a threatening tone. “How would you like traffic duty for the next six months’ officer?”
The officer exited the precinct…
“Let’s go to my office.”
“I’ve been reviewing your cases; you have some unhappy people who could be out for revenge.”
Det. Mici paced the room “I have turned this situation over and over in my mind, nothing make sense.”
“Take a seat, I’ll call the Medical Examiner maybe she has made an I.D of the body.”
While the chief dialed the number, Det. Mici, recognized a of Scotch on the desk.
“‘This is Chief Jefferson, from 29th precinct calling to get an Identification of the body found earlier at Det. Mici’s house.”
“Can I put you on hold for a moment I need to check the logs?”
“Hello Chief, you said the body came In from Det. Mici’s house?”
“We haven’t received a body from that location.”
“Can you look again?”
“Chief, I’ve been working since 5:00 AM, and based on our logs we haven’t received a body.’’
Stunned by the M.E.’s reply the Chief opened the bottle of Scotch. He poured two drinks.
“You might want to drink this.”
Det. Mici looked at the Chief, “I’ve seen that look before.”
“The body has been misplaced.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The M.E. says they don’t have the body.”
“We have a report, there is the knife. What about the finger prints?”
“The only prints on the knife are yours”
“How? I never touched the knife.”
“Don’t know; let’s take a ride back to your house.”
They left the precinct through the back door. During the drive, they did not speak; arriving they walked around the outside of the house. The glass door was repaired. They slowly entered the house. Using their flashlights, looking around, there is no sign of evidence of a crime.
“What the hell is going on?”
“Someone doesn’t want this case to be solved.”
Suddenly, the house lights came on. There is laughter throughout the house.
“Come out fellas” announced the Chief.
“What the hell is going on Chief?”
The chief burst out laughing “all these years I’ve waited to get back at you for bringing that stripper to my bachelor’s party.”
The late Reverend Joseph N. Floyd SR was a stone cold to the bone country boy, born off the shores of South Georgia. He is the offspring of a Cherokee mother and he described his father as a big red skin man. His height can be match to that of Mount Kilimanjaro, with a deep thunderous voice, and soft wide light green emeralds eyes. Catherine Barbara Floyd is a humble, beautiful Southern Belle, born in the Hills of Charlotte South Carolina. The union between them lasted 32 years and produced twelve children. They first crossed paths on the narrow back road of Lyons GA. My mother was visiting family in Vidalia Georgia; and at night, she and the other youngsters would sneak out when the adults were sleeping. On one such night, she found herself in the bushes at a shack called the “Jook Joint” where Joseph was the bartender. When I eighteen my father told me the story of how he felt when he saw my mother, he said, “when she walked in all eyes were on her because she was the most beautiful, long-legged, big hip gal he’d seen in them parts.” My mother’s account of the meeting was different she said that she thought that my father was “the dumbest, fouled mouth, red face creature she has ever met.” Later, she confessed that it was one of those love at first sight encounters, but it was a matter of not letting him know. They had a shotgun wedding because back in those days the rules of courtship were different from today, if a boy got the girl in the family way, they had to get married. Soon after their wedding, he enlisted in the army. In 1967, stationed at Fort Hamilton Army base in New York City, my father persuaded his beautiful and shy country bride to relocate from the country to the city.
After 32 years of marriage 12 children, 25 grandchildren, and 10 great grandchildren, dad was laid to rest. My parents battled through some bad storms, but they stayed together, their love and strength kept the family strong. My mother said that my father was her best friend. I admired how my mother was able to take care of her children, a husband, and all the family pets, as well as having a well-polished home, and still managed to find time to care for herself. There is no other woman in the world like her. She said looking back if she had to do it all over again, she would not change one aspect of her life.
Wednesday October 4, 2017, I was sitting in my bedroom pouring my soul into my journal, ranting about how humanity has left me feeling abandon, unloved and an outcast, in a society where people prefer to engage in a relationship with their technical devices, instead of connecting with people. At 11:35pm, my mobile phone rings, I saw my youngest sisters’ name on the screen, I said “shit” took a deep breath and answered.
“sis, what’s wrong?”
“Donavan committed suicide.”
Silence. Time Stopped.
My handsome 22-year-old nephew, a recent college graduate, received a new car from his proud father, and on his way to a career in law enforcement. A young man with a spotless record, choir member and church usher; felt that he no longer wanted to live. Days after this tragic event people are asking why? If I had the answer would that knowledge bring him back?
We live in a society where there is an increasing number of teens and young adults committing suicide, and the only question people are asking is why? My family has been devastated by such a sudden and violent death. When the family gathers we don’t talk much, we stare into space and go through the motions of planning his final service.
His mother, my sister asked me to write something nice for his obituary. After many tears soaked pages, I finally wrote these words.
Yesterday, the sky was a blazed with stars so bright they lead me home.
Yesterday, I saw your smiling face, happy with hope, faith, and peace.
Today, the Sun shined radiantly I saw your smile in the warmth of the rays.
Tonight, no stars, and the smiling, peaceful, hopeful, faithful face is no more.
The Sun has gone down. In his rest my beloved nephew struggles no more against the trails of life, loveless days, and the pain that he was unable to express. Yesterday, silence. Today there is Peace.