I’m sitting here waiting for a publicist to call for an interview. A 4:30 p.m. call has turned into a 5:45 p.m. and still waiting call. Those are the breaks though. Anyway, it’s been crazy busy for me lately. Actually, it’s just been crazy–period. I’m snowed in and a little antsy because I’m impatient over this interview, plus I have other stories to write. Of course, I’d rather procrastinate and blog, instead of washing my hair until my call comes around. So here are a few things that have gone on in the past month.
I volunteered at St. Jude. During lunch, I participated reading program for working professionals. Instead of reading to a group of kids, you visit each waiting room and offer kids books from the book cart to read. If they’d like, you can read to them individually. I read to two kids: a Latino boy, about six-years-old. His parents, who could barely speak English, thanked me for reading to him. That was the only time he and his younger sister were able to calm down. I also read a mini cardboard book to a 20-month-old who entertained herself by tapping her little tush repeatedly. She saw my cell phone and wanted to play with it. I enjoyed myself. I’ll definitely do again later this month.
I visited a mosque for the first time. Correction: It was actually a study group, which is a “mosque in training,” as I’m told in the Nation of Islam. I was invited to hear the son of Elijah Muhammad, Yasin Muhammad speak about a campaign to target poverty and lynching in Mississippi. If you didn’t know, a young African-American man was hanged in Greenville, Miss. It was reported as a suicide, but locals say otherwise. Read it here.
It was an interesting experience. I’m not Muslim, and I’m a tad ashamed that what I expected wasn’t all at what it really was. It’s good to explore other religions and beliefs. It doesn’t make you less committed to yours, especially if your belief is as strong as it should be.
So my surgery isn’t anywhere in the near future like I hoped it would be. After a couple of “woosahs,” I was okay with it. That means now that I can enjoy all of the activities ahead for February. I might as well enjoy life before I’m on lockdown for six weeks. Yeah.
Last night, my mama told me she knows I’m not cut out for a 9-5 job. Oh God, what a relief! I’d been feeling that way for a while, but never really admitted to myself. My philosophy is I haven’t come to terms with whatever until I say it aloud or write it down somewhere. I just knew if I told her that she’d tell me I was crazy. I mean, I do have bills to pay. BIG bills. So, how can I do this? All I know to do is keep doing what I have to do until I can do what I want to do, and pray, of course.
Speaking of writing this down and coming to terms, after about four months, I finally wrote about my granny’s passing in my journal. I wrote about it here, but not in my journal where only I can see. I hadn’t written since the week she entered the hospital. There were so many things I could have written in there about other random stuff, but I knew I’d have to write that she died first. Does that mean I hadn’t accepted it all along? I don’t think so, but it was really hard to deal with.
I refused to open the drawer where I keep her obituaries. The week following the funeral, I put her obituary picture (a young picture) and a recent one that I loved on a disc to print out. I even bought special frames to put them in. They were going to sit atop my bookshelf in my living so I could always see her smiling, and anyone who visited me would see her. Every week I promised myself I would walk to the Walgreen’s directly across from my job to print those pictures, but I found every excuse in the book not to. The disc is still in my bag. The picture frames are laying on the bookcase. I still haven’t done it.
It took talking to a friend to realize I was avoiding her death, as if I don’t think about it everyday already. After our conversation, I went to my room and wrote in my journal. I cried from the first sentence to the last, BUT I felt so much better. I FEEL so much better. God continues to keep His promise by sending her to me in my dreams–often. So I’m alright. In a way, I have channeled her. As often as I’m allowed, I sit down and watch Dr. Phil while eating candy uncontrollably. In a little while, those pictures will be up for sure.
Whew, I didn’t even mean to go, but there it is. Anyway, maybe my interview will call in soon. Smooches!