It’s Time For A Break

Because recent events have pummeled me and I have to breathe

If you have been reading anything posted recently from me, you know I have been, am moving through, attempting to ride the waves of grief due to the recent passing of my beloved cousin, Chrissy. This afternoon, I received a phone call from another older cousin — this time on my mother’s side, who called to inform me of my aunt’s passing. My mom’s older sister.

I detest these phone calls — the ones where the caller sounds like they are just waiting for you to relieve them of the news they have to share with you, but you’re idly waiting on whatever it is they are calling you for, and there’s this huge pregnant and awkward pause hovering over the both of you. Yes, I detest them. I was saying in my mind as I listened to her breathe, “Just get it over with — whatever it is.”

And after I said that, I wish I hadn’t. My aunt was found dead, in her home, by a friend of hers. My uncle, who called me shortly after my cousin, informed me that as of now — no foul play, nothing out of the ordinary, she simply died in her sleep . . . In her sleep, shortly before her 64th birthday, which is on May 23rd. In her sleep . . . 

“Dying in our sleep is a luxury many of us will not be awarded.” 

They’d been trying to reach my mom who was cooking and in the kitchen away from her phone, so everyone started blowing up mine, which meant, I had to call my mom after I spoke with them to give her the news of her deceased, older sister. Let me just tell you, I don’t want to have to do that again. She has one younger sister left and a younger brother. 

So needless to say, I am logging off. I need a break. I no longer feel as though I have the emotional bandwidth to simply press forward with my sanity in check. I was horrible in the past in the public sphere with simply logging off and not saying anything — disappearing for months on end. I am doing better. I will not do that, so I am informing you before I take a short leave. 

I need to get through this week without feeling like the weight of every single fucked up thing is sitting securely on my shoulders waiting for the chance to break me down completely. I want to keep standing. I wish to keep standing. I have to keep standing. Because if I fall, who will be here to pick me up? 

I am sending all of you love, light, peace, and tight hugs. If it is the Lord’s will, I will chime back in at the end of the coming week. Be good to one another.

Peace and blessings.

A Snapshot

Jernee, The Little Monster, fast asleep.

The #dog sleeps soundly on a Saturday night, dreaming about God only knows what. My neighbor pulls up to our building–blasts his music for us to hear. I’m not opposed, it’s a tune I can bop my head to.

I spent a couple hours video-chatting with my younger cousin and watching her beautiful smile act as its own form of luminescence. There was no other place I wanted to be than in that moment, #connecting with her about the mundane acts of life–laughing about the calamities found in aging and ailments.

We discuss the inevitability of my little monster’s impending demise, and if I’ll get another dog immediately after or opt to get one soon so as to have another form of support on standby. Of course, I’ll get another dog. But I want her to enjoy her life being the spoiled, “only child” until she’s no more.

Oddly enough, I look at this adorable ball of fur, and all I feel is love. All I feel IS loved.

That is a beautiful thing.


Originally shared via LinkedIn.


**Since Chrissy’s passing, her children have reached out to me for deeper, closer relationships, and I needed this. I’d always been around for their growth–but their mom had my full and complete attention. They would get the occasional text or phone call. Now, it’s almost as if I’ve gained two more younger siblings, but it is Victoria with whom I sense a stronger bond will emerge. I see so much of Chrissy in her and she sees so much of her mom in me too. It is simply a joy to share these moments with them–with her. We are making beautiful memories. Beautiful memories, indeed.