Facebook memory: September 8, 2018 – Caption and picture.
How many of you have tried to rush things and God said, “Be still” or “Be patient”?
Be Still Be Patient God’s Working
I’m not going to lie, I have been feeling pretty low for a few days now. Can’t seem to stop crying. I keep asking myself where is my life headed. Honestly, it seems like my ambitions and dreams have shriveled up. All I’m left with is nothingness. Like, I feel nothing. I want nothing. I’m just here.
Yesterday, my son said I needed to get out the house and go somewhere, anywhere. I was like, all I’ve been doing is going. He said I needed to go somewhere for myself, not to take care of things for someone else. So, we drove down to the coast for lunch. He was right, I needed to do something for me. Now, here I am laying here with my thoughts. I just can’t seem to stop crying. I’ve been patient with myself for years, so why am I not further along? I don’t want to die without achieving my dreams; however, right now, I don’t have any drive to move forward. None. I just want to be.
I know this moment will pass. It always does. But it’s becoming harder and harder to bounce back. This is hard to admit but I’m beginning to feel hopeless. Just being transparent.
Life and death. Death and life. One thing I am learning about death, it either brings families closer together or push them further apart. It brings out the worst in some and the best in others. Some are only in it for recognition, while others truly care. So many egos. So many hurt feelings. It’stoo much.
Y’all, I am physically, emotionally and mentally drained. Today, all I want to do is be alone. Disconnecting today and will pick back up tomorrow. I just need a minute to process it all.
I really don’t know where to begin. Yesterday, September 1, was surreal. I am still trying to process it all, but I really don’t want to. Last week I shared that my Aunt Beaulah had passed. Yesterday morning we learned of one of my mom’s younger stepbrothers passing. Then hours later, her aunt, my great aunt and late grandfather’s only sibling, passed. Marvin was in Georgia and Aunt Deloris was here in Mississippi. Neither were COVID related.
My Aunt Beaulah (dad’s sister) had been suffering for years. Over her adulthood she’d had multiple strokes and heart attacks. We always joked that she was like a cat with nine lives. However, this last time she did not bounce back. My dad had three sisters, two of which passed nearly forty years ago. So for years she had been his only baby sister. Up until last year, it was my dad, two uncles and Aunt Beaulah. Last summer my Uncle Sam passed. Now Aunt Beaulah is gone. There are only two of them left. My heart aches for my dad and Uncle Bob. Neither are in good health. I can only imagine what it must feel like to be the last ones standing. As I said, I am still trying to process it all.
My Aunt Deloris (mom’s aunt), who actually read my blogs, was my girl! Now she could tell a good story. The last time I visited her, I told her that I was going to record her storiesabout her childhood. I explained how I wanted to capture her voice as well as her story so that future generations would be able to hear her speak. My plan was to do it this weekend when I visited for my Aunt Beaulah’s burial. I guess you could say God already knew it would never happen the way I had planned. He knew I would not have time to do things “just right.” Last year, as we celebrated her 75th birthday, I recorded her reciting names from our family tree dating back to the late 1800s. Perhaps that was all I needed to record. I also took pictures of names and dates of births and deaths that were kept in a bible her mother handed down to her. She was all about family. She loved us and we loved her dearly. She will be missed.
Marvin, my mom’s little brother, one of my first playmates, will definitely be missed. Words cannot even describe how I am feeling about his death. He was only a few years older than me. No one knew this but Marvin was the first person I told about me contemplating my divorce. I needed to tell someone and that someone happened to be him. Although I did not ask him to keep it between us, he did. That was the kind of person he was – loyal, a true friend and confidant. I am forever grateful for the time we got to spend together. Earlier this summer, he was diagnosed with cancer, which had already progressed to stage 4. During my trip to Atlanta, we had planned to visit but opted for FaceTime instead. That was the last time I actually saw him. Our last text was almost two weeks ago. He will also be missed.
Y’all, I’m in a daze. I don’t want to feel. I don’t want to cry. I feel like I’m tiptoeing around my own feelings trying not to reminisce too much. I was so excited about this new month of September. Said I wanted to do something different. Little did I know this month was going to start off like this. I am still optimistic that this will be a wonderful month full of opportunities and adventures even if I have to intentionally make them happen.
Two years ago I shared a post with the caption, “Love.” That was it. One word. Love.
The definition of love is an intense feeling of deep affection.
That year I experienced a whirlwind of emotions. Too many highs and lows to name. Honestly, I am not sure why I shared the word, Love. Wish I could remember what I was thinking when I shared it. I’m pretty sure I was on some emotional high. I was probably feeling good. Feeling all loved and felt like spreading love.
Ha! Little did I know, two months later, I would need that love I was spreading so freely. I had no idea my life was about to change, but I could feel it. Something in the atmosphere felt weird. My emotions were all over the place. Little did I know, when I wished my brother a happy birthday on October 5, 2019, I was about to experience the blow of a lifetime. A few days after his birthday he was admitted to ICU.
Love.
I do not believe you truly understand love until you have lost someone you truly loved.
Two years ago we lost one of culinary’s finest, Chef Leah Chase. Here’s the Facebook post I shared on June 2, 2019.
Feeling some kind of way. I became a culinary student in 2000, and the two chefs I wanted to meet the most are in this picture, Marcus Samuelsson and Leah Chase.
In 2014, my dream came true. I remember sitting and making a list of people I wanted to meet one day. Then, a couple of weeks later I came across a flyer for a rededication event honoring Chef Chase, and the guest speaker was none other than– Marcus Samuelsson! Yes! I knew right away it was meant for me to attend. God had lined everything up so perfectly. Y’all know I love watching God work.
Of course I had to deal with a few setbacks before attending the ceremony. Nothing ever works the way we envision it. Lol. The day before the event was to happen, I was hit with an unscheduled meeting at the same time I had planned to leave for New Orleans. Y’all, I immediately became disappointed. I felt like it wasn’t meant for me to go. But God! After my meeting ended, I told myself if God put both of them in the same place at the same time, after I had asked to meet them, I’d better go. I was so worried about getting there late, and guess what– it didn’t even start on time. Lol! I also thought she would be too busy for a photo. Well, to my surprise, we actually had time for a conversation.
Yes, I’m in my feelings right now, but I said all of this to say, when God is in it, the ONLY person who can stop things from happening is you! Don’t talk yourself out of God’s blessings. I’m so grateful He blessed me with the opportunity to meet Chef Chase. She will be missed.
And she is definitely missed.🙏🏽🕊
Marcus Samuelsson, Leah Chase, and LaShaundrea (Fall 2014)
Saw one of my former favorite daytime soap stars, Kristoff St. John, on The Jamie Foxx show. Seeing him reminded me of the song, Pressure, by Jonathan McReynolds. Although Kristoff’s cause of death was listed as hypertrophic heart disease, I believe he died from a broken heart and pressure from others to move past his son’s death. I wish he was given time and space to grieve. He passed away in 2019 at the age of 52.