The Babies Are My Energy

It’s amazing how much of my brothers I see in their children. Joshua sent me the photo you see above of him and Sarai, and I instantly thought about how much my niece looks like my younger brother when he was a toddler. He was BAD. OMG! Joshua was such a handful. I am certain I had high blood pressure dealing with him while he was growing up. Lol. Thyrie looks so much like TJ when he was a baby. I think back to the days of him growing up and I get a little emotional. We’ve always been close. He’s the brother everyone says, “OMG, y’all look just alike” about, and I just nod and smile.

Me and TJ, about 5 years ago.

Their children are my energy. I push myself so that I’ll one day reconnect with all of them. I moved away from home when I was eighteen years old. Truth be told, I was running away from things I didn’t care for and wanted to be far away from, and I just kept running.

But receiving photos of the beautiful additions to my family’s bloodline and being so far away from them all gets to me sometimes. I am missing so much. I breathe in and dream of these little ones. I breathe out and ponder on their whereabouts and well-being.

When everything seems to be branding me with anger and pain, I think about them, and my energy is renewed.

Stories of Comfort. Stories of Thanks.

My Uncle Red and one of my brothers, Michael (Peanut). This photo was taken probably about 5 or 6 years ago.

Today, I am reflecting on the stories from my life that lend me peace or make me laugh or send good feelings through me. My mother’s only brother, and the youngest child on her father’s side, Andrew (who we call, “Uncle Red” and all others simply call, “Red”) is my favorite uncle. He was fourteen years old when I was born and from what I am told, extremely happy to be an uncle. I was his second niece, but I was the baby for a long time.

He likes to tell the story of him visiting my mom, father, and I one evening for dinner. I was probably two or three years old at the time. As we were eating, my uncle rehashes how I looked over to him, and announced, “Are you eating your food, Uncle Red?” And to this, he responded, “I am, baby.” What came out of my mouth next definitely indicates I had been around adults more so than children.

My uncle said I looked up at him, smiled, and rebutted, “That’s a big boy. You eat your food.” He said all he could do was laugh–not that fake, silly laugh, but a belly-full laugh, and for the rest of the meal, he had a huge simile on his face. He tells this story to his wife, to his children, to anyone who will listen, and I still love to hear it.

I believe it was the moment I knew I’d always be bonded with/connected closely to, my uncle.

Caison, the little love of my life. One of my baby cousins, and the sweetest gift my cousin Akua has ever given this world.

If you’ve been reading my work for quite a while, then you have seen pictures, read poems, and know about Caison. I have a ton of stories that make me happy when it comes to this Munchkin Man, but my favorite happened about two months ago.

I had been waiting for Caison and Akua to come back home. I was sitting in their living room talking to Caison’s grandmother and watching television. Akua did not tell him I would be “popping up” to spend some time with him. Caison had just turned four years old, and I had his birthday gifts with me to give to him.

Akua recants the story so vividly and with a smile on her face each time as she tells me how excited Caison was to see my car parked in their driveway. The conversation went a little like this, Caison: “Oh! Mommy, is that Naine-Naine’s car?!” Akua: “Yes, baby. It is.” Caison: “Yay! Naine-Naine!!!”

The babies of my family call me “Maine-Maine” or “Tree” and Caison has a little trouble with the pronunciation of “M-words”, they often come out as words beginning with the letter “N”, instead. I think it’s the most adorable thing–his excitement by simply seeing my car, and knowing I had been there waiting to see him.

It makes my heart smile and reminds me how grateful I am to have the love of a young one wrapped up in me.

My kid sister, Bless. When I was 19, this young woman became my most favorite human being–a little sister, finally! I’d had 5 brothers, I didn’t want another one. Lol!

My kid sister and I communicate mostly via text message. I’ll call from time to time simply to hear her voice. I wrote a poem for a friend of mine a few days ago and I shared it with my sister to get her opinion. I actually said to her, “Read this and let me know if it’s garbage or not.”

She read it and said she found snippets of herself throughout the poem and she believed my friend would love it. Of course, being the big sister I am, I wanted to know which snippets of herself she spotted . . . My sister’s response, although simple, got a chuckle out of me. She said, “Oh, see now . . . you want the deets, sis!”

I laughed so hard and I don’t really know why. I could hear my sister saying this to me as if we were in the same room discussing the poem and its details, and I could see the look that would show up on her face. Lol. I simply said, “Of course, I want the details, kiddo!”


The simple things in life make me happy I am living. I am thankful for family and friends and sustenance and words and love and kindness and breathing.

I hope all of you will enjoy this day, should you choose to celebrate it. I will spend it knowing I am blessed and at any moment, this could change.

Peace and blessings.

I Smell Christmas

A quadrille

children kick balls
on the resurfaced street,
dressed for winter.
the dog sleeps, wakes
to be walked and fed.
I watch cartoons–animated
movies with Christmas trees
taller than my building
on screen.

season of giving
crash-landed . . .
I’m not ready for it.

are you?

*The piece reads better going directly to the website: https://acorneredgurl.com. The WordPress Reader has horrible recent updates to it, and I’m about ready to haul the entire WordPress engineering crew out of a huge window.

Saturday: The Beauty of Newness

now my nerves can settle,
my heart no longer flutters,
butterflies aren’t forming,
in my stomach and all is well.

today, I experienced hearty laughs,
a homecooked meal not prepared
by my hands, a casual walk around
a community park, and in-depth
conversations.

I watched my dog patrol my
best friend’s home searching for
her late friend.
we sighed. we teared up.
it’ll take time for this pain
to subside. I will not rush it.

Saturday gifted me with the
beauty of newness.
while safe in my cocoon before,
I slithered out to smell the
air of a different place, in the
comfort of living beings,
and I needed it.

If I Were A Flower

red blue and yellow abstract painting
Art by Steve Johnson via Unsplash

Said blue to the flower, “If I were you,
I’d scatter my petals across the nation–giving
everyone a piece of me.”

The flower looked on, bent its stem,
and scolded blue. “But, you are not
me. You are in the sky, of the ocean,
and the feeling of broken hearts.
I am what people pick when
they want to see a smile on
their loved ones’ faces. I am
fresh pine in the midnight hour,
A statement for a dying soul. I am
lilac & jasmine, clover & rose–the
depth of beauty on a toddler’s fingertips.”

blue listened, eager to understand–yearning
to know just why the flower was so special.

“I am God’s explanation for tears
buried in the sand. You could never be
me, not even if you tried endlessly.”

And with that, blue sat alone with its thoughts.
Its heart beat faster and its eyes grew tired.
The sun tilted its head, leaned over blue’s face,
and lit up its life.

“Maybe I can be the sun,” blue thought.