I have heard of, and read some, about the conspiracies involving J. Edgar Hoover targeting African Americans and presidents slow action to defend Blacks, but to have these vivid illustrations of Hoover’s plight against African Americans prior to his COINTELPRO actions against the Black Panther Party, Martin Luther King Jr. etc. and the president agreeing with Hoover’s methods, was enlightening and generally upsetting. It was not as if Hoover was inconspicuously plotting against Blacks. He publicly said, “We most certainly do not and will not give protection to civil rights workers…” But in the same speech, he stated that the law enforcement should “comply with the new civil rights law.” But his efforts in trying to convince the local terrorists to obey weren’t for the welfare of African Americans, it was meant for those who dared to harm whites. Apparently, his message of applying the civil rights law to only certain Americans was clearly internalized by local terrorists when two African American men’s mutilated bodies were discovered in a river.
The Lyndon Johnson presidential administration’s delayed reaction to the violence in Mississippi is reminiscent of our recent Katrina tragedy and the Bush administration’s lackadaisical response. How interesting that we still vote into office ambivalent “leaders” who make conscious efforts to attempt to negate and not build upon the progress (arguably minimal) made by their predecessors. As the supposed leaders of the free world constantly developing a “Great Society” they continue to make plans that are not all encompassing. Presidents such as Lincoln, Roosevelt, Kennedy and Johnson did implement laws pivotal in the progress of African Americans, but the adoration offered to them is undeserved. Each of them made decisions under pressure and when their ideal ways of satiating the public was unsuccessful. Lincoln only signed the Emancipation Proclamation because he could not allocate the funds to remove Blacks from the country, Roosevelt didn’t want Blacks to march so he instituted a new labor law, Kennedy took his time with Little Rock’s school integration issues and now we read about Johnson’s apprehension to resolve issues in McComb via military action. It’s not the first time, but to have more evidence of consistency in leniency towards those who don’t uphold democratic laws and the utilization of political tactics to circumvent injustices targeting the country’s minority is all too frustrating. What makes President Lyndon Johnson’s story so similar to those before him is that Blacks benefited only because the government’s lack of action began to negatively affect whites. It was when Governor Johnson feared military occupation of his state that he acted against the Klan. It wasn’t until two young middle-class white men died that the White House moved into action. It was not until after tension was created as a result of numerous bombings and white business owners’ livelihood began to suffer because the threat of the federal government imposing on their town was scaring away patrons that the bombers were finally arrested.
Interestingly Hoover’s own words reveal the paradoxical actions and propaganda disseminating from the past and current presidential administrations, “In recent years, a campaign of falsehood and vilification has been directed against the FBI by some ignorant and subversive elements. In the world-wide struggle of free people, the truth is still one of the most potent weapons. And the record of the FBI speaks for itself.” How can a governmental figure acknowledge “the world-wide struggle of free people” when his own FBI agents are assisting in keeping Blacks captive in the country he was hired to make safe for all residents?
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
An Immigrant Revolution!!!
I think America is about to embark on another race-centered Power Movement. I am not well verse in Chicano studies, so we may very well be in the middle of such a movement. But I feel it will soon reach the level of the Black Power Movement if they continue down the path I think they are on. Let me explain. I was in the second session at the Ray Miller Institute which consisted of two speakers presenting on the subject of immigration in America. One speaker was female and Venezuelan and the other was male and Somolian. Both were debunking the myths of immigrants coming to this country. In conclusion she seemed to make a plea to the class, “our nucleus is the same as everyone else. We pray to the same God, we all want a good family and we just want to work to support that family.” It was a plea reminiscent of early non-violent Black civil rights activists trying to pull at the heart strings of white America in hopes that Uncle Sam and his puppets would stop demonizing them. It is no different than when Blacks were saying, “look at us. We aren’t barbarians like you think. We can dress nice, talk nice, and we won’t even fight you when you push us in the face. So please let us integrate. Please. We will be good we promise.” They soon realized that white people were not trying to care about the plight of Black Americans and soon a new mentality was formed…Black Power. I say that the Latino Power Movement is coming because the revelation that white sympathy for brown people doesn’t exist in form for which they hope. It will be police brutality encouraged by the national government that will trigger a new mindset. For example in Irving, Texas the local police are a part of a nationwide Criminal Alien Program were police assist in identifying people suspected of being illegal immigrants after they have been arrested. But interestingly, the police are profiling and stopping Latino motorists when no crime has been committed thus, the number of undocumented immigrants being arrested and deported from Irving has risen significantly. It sounds all too familiar. Local Police in cahoots with the federal government in order to “neutralize” a problem and local police abuse their power. One difference with Latinos is they can be sent back to their place of origin…Blacks couldn’t. So instead they gave “communists” and members of the Black Power movement extended prison terms. What really is the difference between the Americans for the Preservation of the White Race (APWR) of the 1960s who believed that the federal government wasn’t properly handling the civil rights workers threatening the beloved Southern way of life and the Minutemen of today who choose to "do the job our government refuses to do" and "protect America" from the "tens of millions of invading illegal aliens who are devouring and plundering our nation." iSince there tends to be a trend of whites fighting people of color why are black people joining the Minutemen? Organizations like the Crispus Attucks Brigade (interestingly paying homage to another Black man fighting in a white man’s war) and the American Black Citizens Opposed to Illegal Immigration Invasion marching with the belief that illegal immigrants are taking jobs from Blacks. It is that same fear that was that was present in the white auto workers in Michigan and every other majority white-employed business in America. So why is there going to be a Latino Power Movement? It is because, like the Sons of Watts or Us, they have no real allies but themselves. Blacks and other people of color are vehemently requesting a seat on the bandwagon led by whites shoving down our throats the propaganda of “fear the brown people because it you don’t they will take your jobs and then your can’t feed your family and then you will die!” It is the same propaganda utilizing the same media devices and the same police brutality and the same anti-other sentiments that hurt, the Black Power Movement participants. Somolians are going to get tired of arriving in America with college degrees and having to drive a cab (interestingly reminiscent of Black college graduates of the 1950’s) and Latinos are going to get tired of getting beaten by racist Americans (no longer just white people). Then instead of the New Republic of Africa it will be the New Republic of Tenochtitlan. No more Maria or Jose. No more Diaz or Cortez. New names will be created using ancient Mayan and Aztec language. They will want to segregate themselves and they will have grounds to do so since the bottom part of many of the American states bordering America were originally a part of Mexico. There will be a new wave of Latino consciousness. They are asking for a piece of the American pie. Sooner than later they will be taking it by any means necessary. But hopefully, they won’t be interested in being American because (in the words of Malcolm X) America isn’t interested in them. It takes more effort for Blacks to go back to Africa in hopes of preserving the remaining culture that doesn’t have a huge Eurocentric footprint on top of it. Mexicans and all from Central America wanting to transplant themselves in the “land of the free and home of the brave” will recognize every time someone leaves their country and assimilate into white America, a little piece of their history is left behind.
Just FYI... I understand that there was a Chicano Movement during the 1960s but what I mean it there is going to be a Revolution beyond what we have seen in the past 40-50 years.
Just FYI... I understand that there was a Chicano Movement during the 1960s but what I mean it there is going to be a Revolution beyond what we have seen in the past 40-50 years.
Sunday, November 04, 2007
Maintaining stability with just three legs
This year has been interesting. A year of growth, confusion, pain, joy, instability, and strength. The year began with me entering my second to last quarter of my supposed last year of my Master’s of Fine Arts program to only find out that I could no longer continue in the program. Not because I had poor grades or issues with staff or anything like that. But because my thesis topic wasn’t “design enough”. They said they sent me a letter notifying me of this but I never got. Sent to the wrong address. So I entered into the spring quarter without a department, couldn’t register for classes, no financial aid, and a side job that couldn't pay my $850 + per month expenses. After receiving a letter from my apartment complex that my rent was going to go up, I had to find a new cheaper place to stay that would take my son and I quickly.
So we moved on campus to family housing. I ended up maxing out my credit card with the last purchases being the security deposit and rent. It wasn’t a big deal that I didn’t have a department “home” I was still a student. Now, since I wasn’t going to school I could get a job. After being three months behind in rent, credit cards over charged, my cell phone off, I finally found two summer jobs which allowed me to catch-up on bills. I also found a department home in African American and African Studies, which supported my thesis topic and understood what I was doing (it sounds like a big jump but it really isn’t in relation to what I’m researching). Also in the January-February period I officially divorced my feeling for my ex-boyfriend from undergrad. We had been going on and off for years. After consistent prayer I felt released from him. It was so liberating. He wasn’t or isn’t a bad guy. If any woman asked me about him I would only have great things to say. I think he would make a great father and a wonderful husband to somebody…just not me. I came to realize what I wanted, what I needed and compared that to what he has given me and what I think he was capable of giving me and it just didn’t add up. I think it was all those great things about him that kept me there in addition to me focused on what he wasn’t doing rather that what I needed to do.
Between March and April, my aunt died in Florida which was unexpected and really hard on my uncle and my cousins, my aunt died in Baltimore which was expected to happen eventually but still troublesome all the same, and (on an up side) I began dating someone. His name is Jonathan.
So we moved on campus to family housing. I ended up maxing out my credit card with the last purchases being the security deposit and rent. It wasn’t a big deal that I didn’t have a department “home” I was still a student. Now, since I wasn’t going to school I could get a job. After being three months behind in rent, credit cards over charged, my cell phone off, I finally found two summer jobs which allowed me to catch-up on bills. I also found a department home in African American and African Studies, which supported my thesis topic and understood what I was doing (it sounds like a big jump but it really isn’t in relation to what I’m researching). Also in the January-February period I officially divorced my feeling for my ex-boyfriend from undergrad. We had been going on and off for years. After consistent prayer I felt released from him. It was so liberating. He wasn’t or isn’t a bad guy. If any woman asked me about him I would only have great things to say. I think he would make a great father and a wonderful husband to somebody…just not me. I came to realize what I wanted, what I needed and compared that to what he has given me and what I think he was capable of giving me and it just didn’t add up. I think it was all those great things about him that kept me there in addition to me focused on what he wasn’t doing rather that what I needed to do.Between March and April, my aunt died in Florida which was unexpected and really hard on my uncle and my cousins, my aunt died in Baltimore which was expected to happen eventually but still troublesome all the same, and (on an up side) I began dating someone. His name is Jonathan.
I told him that I wasn’t ready to begin a relationship (I felt like a guy when I said that) and there was just soo much going on with me that I didn’t think I could give the attention needed to a new romance. So we hung out, discovered we had so many things in common. He absolutely loves my son and I can (and have) spend days on end with him. Something I haven’t been able to do with anyone. Usually something ends up getting on my nerves but not with him. Our attraction began to grow but we didn’t have sex too soon. We agreed that sex can complicate things and get in the way of getting to know someone. In addition, I had issues with intimacy. In the past I have taken it in replacement of something else I was subconsciously lacking or some type of fulfillment (even if I couldn’t put my finger on it) and as a Christian I can’t resolve my flesh issues by continuing to let it led me. In March he left the country for 3 weeks for his dissertation research and we communicated via text message and email. That old adage of “distance makes the heart grow fonder” was definitely true after we sealed our relationship with intimacy once he came back, which we immediately regretted given our stance before he left. Nonetheless we proceeded forward in the relationship getting to know one another more and getting comfortable. Soon we hit what I thought was a speed bump down our path of bliss (lol). He wasn’t a Christian. Now this had come up before and we talked about it but I thought it was a case of someone who simply had bad encounters with overly-judgmental Christians and didn’t know the Bible. So we began to read the Bible together, prayed together, cried together, and engaged in great discussion that challenged my beliefs and forced me to flesh-out some ideas that I never had before. It was truly a growing experience and we both thought we were each other’s potential soul mates. So much so that we went to each other’s family reunions. I had already met his parents when he suggested that my son and I stay at his parents’ house when I went to Baltimore for my aunt's funeral instead of staying in a hotel (because I didn’t want to stay with my family…whole other story). My family couldn’t stop talking about him and his family loved me.
By now my son is with my mom for the summer and Jonathan decides to treat me to a “Melissa Day” doing stuff that I wanted to do and a few surprises. I really wanted to go fishing so we did and I caught me first fish. We dressed up and went to a really nice restaurant and he surprised me with tickets to Cirque de Solie, a show I have been dying to see. A few weeks later, I started having pains in my stomach. I thought maybe it was because of stress. Other things were happening with my body. My face was breaking out, my weight was fluctuating, wasn’t sleeping well and I hair was breaking off. So after the pain became really bad I went to the emergency room, thinking it could be ulcers. It wasn’t and they weren’t sure what it was. Then a week later the pain became worse so I went in again. They ran numerous tests and still wasn’t sure what it was. Then one day in July I missed my period. I attributed it to stress and wasn’t too worried about it. But Jonathan was extremely nervous. While at his house, he decided to buy a pregnancy test. I tried to compose myself before testing myself trying to be mentally prepared for whatever results still thinking its was stress and my cycle would go back to normal any day now. After the applicator showed two very dark lines I was surprisingly calmer that I thought. Not particularly happy but calm. Jonathan, good at being composed, was quietly nervous but comforting. After counting the days back, it was the "Melissa Day" that did us in. I think I wasn’t upset because this situation was very different than it was with my son’s father. And so this pregnancy was a way to simply seal the deal on our life together. We told our parents. I told my mother via email. In retrospect not the greatest idea but my phone was still off and because my feelings on the matter were still on a balancing beam teetering between nervous breakdown and another baby blessing, I knew a bad reaction would send me towards the former. I sent to email to some friends and family to let them know that I was pregnant…again and that Jonathan and I were going to move in together. Later I discover that one of those people I called a friend announced my situation to others before even calling me to see if I was ok. Nevertheless, I longer speak to that person who I incorrectly deemed as someone who had my best interest in mind.
So now I'm pregnant and we are looking for two bedroom cat-friendly apartments that are cost efficient as to allow us to provide for our new little one. For some reason this adventure was fun and felt very “couple-like” looking for a home to raise our child. But the pain was still occurring consistently on a daily basis. One day the pain was so great I couldn’t sit of at my desk at work. I went to the emergency room and they confirmed my pregnancy and said I may be having a miscarriage but they weren’t sure. They said if I start bleeding more that an overnight pad an hour to come back into the emergency room. I later got an appointment with my physician who sent me to get a ultrasound. With Jonathan with me, we saw the heartbeat and got a picture of the small fetus. This was also fun. Maybe because with my son, I did all of this by myself with no family or friends around to help me. We started playing around with names and when to bring my son back up from Florida. We thought about how long it would take to finish our degrees and how we were going to plan our lives after we left OSU since I wanted to get my PhD after I finished my masters. Then one day I started bleeding but not that much. I wasn’t too concerned because my aunt bled the entire time sure was pregnant with my cousin and again it wasn’t that much, but the pain was getting stronger. Soon I bleeding about a pad an hour, more than my normal cycle flow. I was getting tired and woozy so he took me to the hospital again. They said I was having a miscarriage and there wasn’t anything they could do about it. It had to take its course. But the fetus was still there. We left the hospital sad, but interestingly (or maybe not THAT interestingly) more relieved. They told me I could continue to bleed for another 2-3 weeks or more on top of the two weeks or so I had already been bleeding. Then one day at my first job (working with high school students on campus) as I was taking the students to lunch I got really sick and the pain became increasingly bad. I felt nauseous so I went to the bathroom to vomit, but instead stood there dry-heaving. This felt very much like my first pregnancy but then I was vomiting constantly. The cramping continued and it was challenging to walk. So I made my way to the CVS next door to get a heating pad, which is what the doctor told me to do for the cramps outside of over the counter medication. I got into CVS and I couldn’t walk anymore. I called Jonathan who was down the street to help me find the heating pad plus I left my wallet in my car. He found me sitting, crying on the floor in the back of CVS and I couldn’t move. The pain was very intense. Soon a crowd of people stood and watched me cry after asking if I was ok. Jonathan took me to the employees' bathroom to try and put the heating pad on but it didn’t work and I could stand up for long. We sat there in the employee bathroom as he held me and a cried in excruciating pain. The pain slightly sub-sided and I thought that soon it would go away and I could go back to work. So he helped me walk next door which was the next stop for the students. We got there and I had to lie down again. The pain was back and the heating pad wasn’t doing anything. It was like delivering a baby with no anesthesia. After laying there awhile and the pain not going away he called the ambulance. I told them I think I was having a miscarriage and I was in really bad pain. Once we got to the hospital, to my surprise they sat me in the waiting room. Jonathan sat there attempting to comfort me and angry at the hospital as I tried not to cry out loud in public. Then I was nauseous again so he wheeled me into the bathroom where I vomited so violently then I urinated all over my clothes. Something else reminiscent of my former pregnancy. He asked them to give me some more pants and I new pad since I was still bleed profusely. After asking me questions about my insurance and I think I may have signed a few things they sent me back to the emergency room where I was quickly given an IV full of narcotics that eased the pain and put me to sleep. I woke up to find out that the fetus had passed, I will continue to experience cramps for another week or so, so they gave me a prescription to fill. After the hospital drug wore off the pain came back and Jonathan was there with me the whole time. During that time I would find out that a close family member died unexpectedly. She found out she had a brain tumor; the doctors tried to remove it but she passed on the operating table. The same year my Jonathan’s had a tragedy in his family and after I met his uncle and cousin at the family reunion, they were hit by cars. Leaving one barely harmed and the other paralyzed.
After another week or so of pain a
nd bleeding the pain stopped and I decided to cut my hair off. I hadn’t permed my hair in a few months, masking the new grown with tight roller-set curls and hats when necessary. I had a little fro, I wasn’t a fan so put micro braids in my hair to let it grow out some.
By now my son is with my mom for the summer and Jonathan decides to treat me to a “Melissa Day” doing stuff that I wanted to do and a few surprises. I really wanted to go fishing so we did and I caught me first fish. We dressed up and went to a really nice restaurant and he surprised me with tickets to Cirque de Solie, a show I have been dying to see. A few weeks later, I started having pains in my stomach. I thought maybe it was because of stress. Other things were happening with my body. My face was breaking out, my weight was fluctuating, wasn’t sleeping well and I hair was breaking off. So after the pain became really bad I went to the emergency room, thinking it could be ulcers. It wasn’t and they weren’t sure what it was. Then a week later the pain became worse so I went in again. They ran numerous tests and still wasn’t sure what it was. Then one day in July I missed my period. I attributed it to stress and wasn’t too worried about it. But Jonathan was extremely nervous. While at his house, he decided to buy a pregnancy test. I tried to compose myself before testing myself trying to be mentally prepared for whatever results still thinking its was stress and my cycle would go back to normal any day now. After the applicator showed two very dark lines I was surprisingly calmer that I thought. Not particularly happy but calm. Jonathan, good at being composed, was quietly nervous but comforting. After counting the days back, it was the "Melissa Day" that did us in. I think I wasn’t upset because this situation was very different than it was with my son’s father. And so this pregnancy was a way to simply seal the deal on our life together. We told our parents. I told my mother via email. In retrospect not the greatest idea but my phone was still off and because my feelings on the matter were still on a balancing beam teetering between nervous breakdown and another baby blessing, I knew a bad reaction would send me towards the former. I sent to email to some friends and family to let them know that I was pregnant…again and that Jonathan and I were going to move in together. Later I discover that one of those people I called a friend announced my situation to others before even calling me to see if I was ok. Nevertheless, I longer speak to that person who I incorrectly deemed as someone who had my best interest in mind.
So now I'm pregnant and we are looking for two bedroom cat-friendly apartments that are cost efficient as to allow us to provide for our new little one. For some reason this adventure was fun and felt very “couple-like” looking for a home to raise our child. But the pain was still occurring consistently on a daily basis. One day the pain was so great I couldn’t sit of at my desk at work. I went to the emergency room and they confirmed my pregnancy and said I may be having a miscarriage but they weren’t sure. They said if I start bleeding more that an overnight pad an hour to come back into the emergency room. I later got an appointment with my physician who sent me to get a ultrasound. With Jonathan with me, we saw the heartbeat and got a picture of the small fetus. This was also fun. Maybe because with my son, I did all of this by myself with no family or friends around to help me. We started playing around with names and when to bring my son back up from Florida. We thought about how long it would take to finish our degrees and how we were going to plan our lives after we left OSU since I wanted to get my PhD after I finished my masters. Then one day I started bleeding but not that much. I wasn’t too concerned because my aunt bled the entire time sure was pregnant with my cousin and again it wasn’t that much, but the pain was getting stronger. Soon I bleeding about a pad an hour, more than my normal cycle flow. I was getting tired and woozy so he took me to the hospital again. They said I was having a miscarriage and there wasn’t anything they could do about it. It had to take its course. But the fetus was still there. We left the hospital sad, but interestingly (or maybe not THAT interestingly) more relieved. They told me I could continue to bleed for another 2-3 weeks or more on top of the two weeks or so I had already been bleeding. Then one day at my first job (working with high school students on campus) as I was taking the students to lunch I got really sick and the pain became increasingly bad. I felt nauseous so I went to the bathroom to vomit, but instead stood there dry-heaving. This felt very much like my first pregnancy but then I was vomiting constantly. The cramping continued and it was challenging to walk. So I made my way to the CVS next door to get a heating pad, which is what the doctor told me to do for the cramps outside of over the counter medication. I got into CVS and I couldn’t walk anymore. I called Jonathan who was down the street to help me find the heating pad plus I left my wallet in my car. He found me sitting, crying on the floor in the back of CVS and I couldn’t move. The pain was very intense. Soon a crowd of people stood and watched me cry after asking if I was ok. Jonathan took me to the employees' bathroom to try and put the heating pad on but it didn’t work and I could stand up for long. We sat there in the employee bathroom as he held me and a cried in excruciating pain. The pain slightly sub-sided and I thought that soon it would go away and I could go back to work. So he helped me walk next door which was the next stop for the students. We got there and I had to lie down again. The pain was back and the heating pad wasn’t doing anything. It was like delivering a baby with no anesthesia. After laying there awhile and the pain not going away he called the ambulance. I told them I think I was having a miscarriage and I was in really bad pain. Once we got to the hospital, to my surprise they sat me in the waiting room. Jonathan sat there attempting to comfort me and angry at the hospital as I tried not to cry out loud in public. Then I was nauseous again so he wheeled me into the bathroom where I vomited so violently then I urinated all over my clothes. Something else reminiscent of my former pregnancy. He asked them to give me some more pants and I new pad since I was still bleed profusely. After asking me questions about my insurance and I think I may have signed a few things they sent me back to the emergency room where I was quickly given an IV full of narcotics that eased the pain and put me to sleep. I woke up to find out that the fetus had passed, I will continue to experience cramps for another week or so, so they gave me a prescription to fill. After the hospital drug wore off the pain came back and Jonathan was there with me the whole time. During that time I would find out that a close family member died unexpectedly. She found out she had a brain tumor; the doctors tried to remove it but she passed on the operating table. The same year my Jonathan’s had a tragedy in his family and after I met his uncle and cousin at the family reunion, they were hit by cars. Leaving one barely harmed and the other paralyzed.
After another week or so of pain a
nd bleeding the pain stopped and I decided to cut my hair off. I hadn’t permed my hair in a few months, masking the new grown with tight roller-set curls and hats when necessary. I had a little fro, I wasn’t a fan so put micro braids in my hair to let it grow out some. 
Meanwhile, Jonathan and I had broken-up as a result of our tumultuous year and made up again realizing we needed each other during this healing process.
Now it’s August and my son is back from Florida. The plan was to let him stay in Florida until I finished my new program so that I could hopefully finish quickly but my mother said she was getting too old to handle his energy and was having trouble sleeping. So I scrambled to reinstate my son in his old daycare but they couldn’t take him until after Labor Day but I still had to work. So Jonathan, being the great boyfriend, says that he will watch him for the next two weeks or so all day until my son can go to daycare. During that time they bonded and I saw that Jonathan would be a great dad.
Later I was accepted into a local leadership institute led by the state senator, which met on Monday evenings and I had a late class. Instead of me dropping my class or declining my acceptance into the institute, Jonathan said he would pick my son up from daycare and baby-sit him until I came home. Then religion reared its head. We had been ignoring it and been preoccupied with other things that we hadn’t talked about it. I thought that we were close to being of one mind on the subject by come to find out we weren’t. We were at a cross-roads. It was either stay in a relationship knowing that we differ in how we view the world and how we were going to raise a family or end the relationship. After a long talk and a lot of tears a few weeks ago we decided to end it. He still baby-sits and picks my son up from daycare because he cares about us and is man of his word. It feels sad and uncomfortable. I really love this man. I’ve talked to a couple of people about their thoughts. One good friend, Yhanique, gave the advice I needed to hear which came straight from the Bible. Which basically says, a believer and an unbeliever can be married but it is going to be very difficult. The unbeliever may become saved but you never know when. It reminded me of my grandparents. My grandmother always went to church always called on God but my grandfather may have made appearances on Easter and Christmas if he wasn’t busy. After 50 years of marriage, God fulfilled His promise of giving us the desires of our heart and my grandfather was saved and attends church regularly. In the mean time all types of hell was raised in that household and I’m not quite sure if the two of them will ever be happy. I don’t want that to be me and Jonathan.
I feel like a piece of me as been broken off and I don’t know where it went or how to get it back. Jonathan stays over at least once a week but we don’t have sex. We don’t even kiss. Something we agreed upon. Which is a good thing given the circumstances. We need to spiritually break off from one another and sex and intimacy makes that difficult. It’s still sad though. Sad isn’t a good word. I do feel unstable. Like a leg of my chair has been removed and I trying to balance on the three remaining. I feel like he is becoming distant. I don’t know if it is his defense mechanism or if he is losing interest. Maybe he is dating or wanting to date someone else. I wont ask though. None of my business. But that feels weird since we were so open just a month or so ago. He reluctantly let me read his journals so that I could understand him better as I hesitantly let him read mine . We uncovered deep seated fears and exposed vulnerabilities. So much information exchanged to now abruptly halt it feels unnatural but probably necessary…given the circumstances. He said I am someone he would want to keep in his life as would want him in mine but I don’t know how that is going to work. Its like a friend said to me a long time ago about her last boyfriend, “I don’t want to take this friendship as a consolation prize for a failed relationship.” And I think we will always have that in the back of or minds what could have been. In practically every other way we worked except one and it wasn’t something we could work on. It just was. I think we are going to drift apart. I hope not. It’s going to hurt. It hurts now. But I would n't trade anything for it because I know now exactly what I want my husband to be and I believe the God will prepare me for him and our paths will cross. I don’t want to be sad about this anymore. I hope I get what I’m supposed to get out of all of this. We have a little over a month left in the year. Let’s see what else 2007 has to teach me.
Now it’s August and my son is back from Florida. The plan was to let him stay in Florida until I finished my new program so that I could hopefully finish quickly but my mother said she was getting too old to handle his energy and was having trouble sleeping. So I scrambled to reinstate my son in his old daycare but they couldn’t take him until after Labor Day but I still had to work. So Jonathan, being the great boyfriend, says that he will watch him for the next two weeks or so all day until my son can go to daycare. During that time they bonded and I saw that Jonathan would be a great dad.
Later I was accepted into a local leadership institute led by the state senator, which met on Monday evenings and I had a late class. Instead of me dropping my class or declining my acceptance into the institute, Jonathan said he would pick my son up from daycare and baby-sit him until I came home. Then religion reared its head. We had been ignoring it and been preoccupied with other things that we hadn’t talked about it. I thought that we were close to being of one mind on the subject by come to find out we weren’t. We were at a cross-roads. It was either stay in a relationship knowing that we differ in how we view the world and how we were going to raise a family or end the relationship. After a long talk and a lot of tears a few weeks ago we decided to end it. He still baby-sits and picks my son up from daycare because he cares about us and is man of his word. It feels sad and uncomfortable. I really love this man. I’ve talked to a couple of people about their thoughts. One good friend, Yhanique, gave the advice I needed to hear which came straight from the Bible. Which basically says, a believer and an unbeliever can be married but it is going to be very difficult. The unbeliever may become saved but you never know when. It reminded me of my grandparents. My grandmother always went to church always called on God but my grandfather may have made appearances on Easter and Christmas if he wasn’t busy. After 50 years of marriage, God fulfilled His promise of giving us the desires of our heart and my grandfather was saved and attends church regularly. In the mean time all types of hell was raised in that household and I’m not quite sure if the two of them will ever be happy. I don’t want that to be me and Jonathan.
I feel like a piece of me as been broken off and I don’t know where it went or how to get it back. Jonathan stays over at least once a week but we don’t have sex. We don’t even kiss. Something we agreed upon. Which is a good thing given the circumstances. We need to spiritually break off from one another and sex and intimacy makes that difficult. It’s still sad though. Sad isn’t a good word. I do feel unstable. Like a leg of my chair has been removed and I trying to balance on the three remaining. I feel like he is becoming distant. I don’t know if it is his defense mechanism or if he is losing interest. Maybe he is dating or wanting to date someone else. I wont ask though. None of my business. But that feels weird since we were so open just a month or so ago. He reluctantly let me read his journals so that I could understand him better as I hesitantly let him read mine . We uncovered deep seated fears and exposed vulnerabilities. So much information exchanged to now abruptly halt it feels unnatural but probably necessary…given the circumstances. He said I am someone he would want to keep in his life as would want him in mine but I don’t know how that is going to work. Its like a friend said to me a long time ago about her last boyfriend, “I don’t want to take this friendship as a consolation prize for a failed relationship.” And I think we will always have that in the back of or minds what could have been. In practically every other way we worked except one and it wasn’t something we could work on. It just was. I think we are going to drift apart. I hope not. It’s going to hurt. It hurts now. But I would n't trade anything for it because I know now exactly what I want my husband to be and I believe the God will prepare me for him and our paths will cross. I don’t want to be sad about this anymore. I hope I get what I’m supposed to get out of all of this. We have a little over a month left in the year. Let’s see what else 2007 has to teach me.
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