Why Get Married: Men Lie Women Cheat!

Saturday, June 16, 2007

Baby Steps I

I am dying....

What a way to start a letter right? I am dying! Wow! I have finally confirmed it today and the fight is over. Sitting in that chair in the Dr.s office, listening to them tell it,

"You have six months left, if at all...we can try and ease the transition, the pain..." I zoned out everything else. I am 28 years old and I am dying of breast cancer. What kind of legacy have I left behind? What will happen to my baby, what will happen to by husband? What will this world be without me? Will my death matter at all? These are all the questions that plague my mind and I sit here in my bed propped up with a million pillows, thousands of flowers surrounding me in my 1.2 million dollar home. All of these and more don't matter. I am going to die.

I remember growing up in a very dysfunctional household. My father was never there for most of my childhood. My first memory of him was being thrown in the air and feeling like I would crash on the ground, being caught again. Even though my parents marriage was shaky, my father and mother dotted on me, the only girl and last born. My two older brothers also spoiled me with affection. From the outside things seemed good but on the inside things were rough. My father was a rage-aholic. And being in Nigeria, people don't usually diagnose disorders. He beat on my mother for no reason. We could be having a wonderful family meal and because my mother didn't pass the rice or soup on time, he could go from laughing to slapping her in a minute. Some nights I would crawl into my brothers bed and we would all just huddle there until the noise and screams from my parents room would die down. The next morning, daddy would be gone and mommy would be left explaining the "urgent" business that took him away. We all pretended like the bruises, cuts and emergency room visits were just "accidents".

My mother died August 12, 1990 a day before my eleventh birthday. My father was at home and in a foul mood. I remember it like it happened just yesterday. Mommy was going to throw me a birthday party. Daddy came home and said there would be no party. That night the noise at first was my mom crying and saying "please don't, not tonight, the children will hear...please" then it got quiet, I was awakened by my mother screaming for help. My siblings and I ran out to the hall and saw my father dragging my mother down the hall. "you think you can deny me?" he kept yelling over and over again. "I will show you I am a man" and with that he started punching and kicking her. She was screaming at us children to go to our rooms. I think she was ashamed or scared he would hurt us. My older brother intervened, or at least attempted to. My father then attacked him. He looked crazy. I didn't recognize him and for the first time I was scared for my life. He grabbed my brother by the neck with both hands, lifted him up and began to choke him. My mother lost her mind then. She jumped on my fathers back and began to scream, scratch and punch. She was pounding so hard on him to let my brother go. My other brother "Olu" jumped in and then my father dropped my brother grabbed my mother and smashed her head into the wall.

I will never forget that sound.

It was like when you pop a bag full of water. Not necessarily a splash but...hmmmm a crack gurgling sort of sound. My mother crumbled with her eyes wide open looking dead at me, and we all just got quiet. My father started to shake my mother, trying to wake her up and then he was crying. He turned to my brother and said "look what you did, you killed your mother!"

I don't remember how the rest of the story played out but my uncle from Texas came and got us children. He was unmarried and well, he loved his sister. We grew up in Texas and my uncle was the father I never had. We loved him and when he got married in 2000 we loved his new wife as well. I later found out the reason he had never married was because he was impotent, so we are the children he never had.

I got married in 2002 to the love of my life. We had met when I was in high school and continued our relationship well into college and at the age of 23, I married the love of my life. Starting out wasn't easy. My hubby the dreamer had big dreams of establishing his own company and he went about doing just that. By 2005 we had made it big and were featured in many magazines. He was named in the top 50 successful Black men in Ebony one year. I was a homemaker and a social worker. I got a degree in Social work to help other children that are in abusive homes find good homes. I had plans to go to law school and be a Child Advocate, however, that will not be the case.

A year ago I found out I had breast cancer. I routine check up showed a small lump growing in my breast. The doctors removed it and I went through Chemotherapy. I was good to go. Then a month ago I went back and the doctor said the words "it has come back". We began treatment and found it has spread into my chest cavity. My lungs etc now had cancer. I have never smoked, I don't drink, I am healthy eater and exercise (including yoga) twice a day. I hiked in Europe, I go backpacking and tenting in Wyoming. My husband and I run in marathons. I flew to NY and ran in the Breast Cancer walk that they had. And now I have 6 months to go...

And as I lay here, eating sherbet and looking at my little girl sleeping, all I can think about is my mother and how very soon, I will see her...was my life really worth it? Did her sacrifice pay? will she be happy when she sees me?

I told my husband yesterday, to make sure he finds the right mother for our daughter. Someone who will be willing to lay down their life for her. He said "no one can ever replace you" Hmmm! Wait till I am an angel and catch him fucking another woman in my bed! Why am I cracking jokes this is serious. Oh well...Baby Steps right? Every day is a Baby Step to the end...So, Passion, Keep entertaining us with your stories jare...

Posted by Passion :: 1:24 PM :: 5 comments