11 years

It was only with the strength of God that I got through this last 4,013 days without hearing your laugh or asking what’s for dinner. I can’t stand thinking about missing out tonight wanting to see your ‘eating swell’ post on social media. I want to see you and your brother laughing, you giving him advice on life, you just…. Living!!!

I know God doesn’t make mistakes. I know your life was for a reason and truth be told I know that you brought SO MUCH Love into my life. You wasn’t an easy child to raise but you was honest and considerate and soooo sensitive. You was there for me during my depression. You rubbed my feet, sat with me when you knew I just didn’t want to be alone.

My pain starts knowing you was alone when they were hurting you for no reason. Why did they beat on my baby? Kick and punch and kick and punch and…. Stab….. Why?

Noone helped. Everyone watched. Noone helpedddd you. Why? I’ll forever regret not being there. I would of helped. I would of kicked back. Not my baby!! I don’t play when it comes to my boys!!!!!!

Looking into my heart

It’s time! I opened my eyes, took a breath and started to think. If only I’d stayed asleep, this wouldn’t keep happening!!

Now the thoughts come to, automatically thinking about my children and if they are safe and accounted for. The youngest one, yep I remember seeing him before I went to bed. My oldest one….. Jesus… My oldest…….. Where is my baby???

He just died, again!!!!! You don’t understand, this now is the 3,645th time that I’ve gone through this. My heart hurts so much. My mind goes to them hurting my baby. I can only imagine him being in so much pain, being so afraid. Did he call out my name? Why didn’t I hear him? Why didn’t I feel the life leaving his body? They said, he said he was cold. Oh God, my baby boy. My baby boy.

You’ve left me here in this place of despair. I cry so much, my eyes are often swollen. I cry out to the Lord because I know if it had not been for him I would of taken my own life. I miss your voice, I miss your smile. I miss your hugs and your rubbing my feet. I miss your excitement over my food. I even miss your anger because you come back and apologize. I always accept it. You’re my baby.

I Miss you soooo very much.

Until we meet again and I have re-live this horror all over again and again and again. I’m tired………….

FB memories

Came across this FB memory this morning from March 2013. It took me 3 long years and 26 for cases to get justice for you even though they were caught the next day. I never stopped fighting then and I’ll never stop representing you now! You’re MY son and nothing will deter my plans and dreams for you and your brother and daughter. Please continue to hold and comfort me, I miss you daily. I cry for you, I wish to God you was here with me. I love you, Teddy.

“It doesn’t take much to trigger me Teddy. 6 months ago tonight, we was laughing and joking here at the house while I prepared your dinner. You and J was rough housing on the bed while talking about going to the Mets game the next day. He was so excited. You and I talked for hours about life, the baby and importantly your business plans for the next day that would require you to miss school. All of this seems like yesterday. 6 months ago tonight, was our last conversation. The last meal I would fix for you. The last time you would leave my home. Thankfully I got a chance to say I love you one more time when you came to my job on the 20th of September. Now, here it is, 6 months since you’ve been physically gone from me, my son. Healing isn’t coming in time but it’s allowing me to thank God everyday for having you in my life. I miss you so much Teddy. 6 Months gone at 5:39pm tomorrow, but forever in my heart and thoughts. I wish I was able to go back to that night 6 months ago and laugh and hold you again. Justice for you, son, I wont stop.” (March 2013)

Are you here?

2020…

Wow. 2012 seems like centuries ago instead of 7 years. Well, it’ll be 8 in September. I don’t want to think that far. I’m still hurting at this point in time. I’m so tired of laughing and then it getting caught in my throat bc I think of you. I KNOW you are standing next to me cheering me on with each positive thing that’s happening. I so feel you, Teddy but what hurts so bad is YOU aren’t having these new memories. You aren’t in up to date pictures. I have to close my eyes and imagine your goatee.

https://www.nydailynews.com/news/crime/mother-slain-nyc-students-plea-article-1.1200973

So, life is just going to go on like you’re not missing from it? I’m so mad!! I think about that person in prison. Does he see your face when he closes his eyes? Is he remorseful now, being that he was an A-hole at sentencing and refused to say sorry. Is he just getting harder, ready to destroy another family? Will he try to hurt us when he gets out thinking we’re responsible for his downfall? Jesus, how could I NOT have all of these crazy thoughts? Do ya’ll know what I’ve been through? I not only lost my son to a violent murder, but my step mother to murder. A white man decided that my black step mother wasn’t worthy of living or simply shopping at the grocery store.

https://www.wave3.com/2019/10/24/thursday-marks-one-year-since-people-were-shot-dead-kroger/

So, these anxiety pills that I take 3 times a day along with my depression ones in the morning and evening are warranted.

I’m not inviting you to a pity party. Just giving references as to why I have that big smile in my picture and the sadness behind my eyes. Oh I’ve learned how to say, I’m alright and inside be breaking down. I’ve learned how to cry in public, catching the tear at the end of my eye before it falls. I call myself a master Griever. 💖

So it’s 11:15 on the last day of 2019. I’m grateful for my youngest son beginning college and making better choices in life. I’m grateful to preparing for my graduation this May before I embark on my next degree. I’m grateful that God loves me even though I mess up each and every day.

I’m grateful for ya’ll who keep coming back and spending time with me here. I’ll talk to you next year. Be safe out there. Be Blessed… 💖

I want to smile, inside

My mind is full, literally. As I’m preparing for my finals next week I’m trying to tap into my memory and retrieve information all the way back to August. Ha. That’s funny right? I’m almost 50 years old. We’re proud of ourselves remembering to take meat out for dinner, to thaw. I’m working it out however, but it’s opening doors I’m not ready for emotionally. Allow me to explain.

I purposely suppress certain feelings in order to cope. The biggest being Teddy no longer being here. It may sound strange being that I talk about him all the time. People don’t understand what happens in my mind. I’m able to tell someone, yes he was murdered and my life now is propelled by living out his legacy. What they don’t know is when the conversation is over, Teddy goes back to ‘school’ in my head. He’s out doing something productive, unable to call but I’ll hear from him soon. Then when I get encounters of him being thoughts from him, images in my mind and confirmations of sorts then it held me until the next time. I can tell you seriously in my mind, I spoke to Teddy the other day. He made me smile while whispering in my ear. 💖

Then comes the times like these when I have to stop and pull up memories. It does something to me a little difficult to explain. It makes things real to me almost like a movie. Think of the movie, the Sixth Sense. I feel like I’m reliving this movie over and over not realizing that this whole time, my son is dead.

My chest gets really tight, I begin to hyperventilate and my whole world swirls. How did this happen? Well, I’m trying to think of innocent school work from 4 mints ago. It triggers memories from say, 4 years ago. I was really in a bad space then. My PTSD and anxiety was trying to be managed for me to be able to function in society. Why? Because they killed my son. They all stood around and watched those boys punch my son and kick him to the ground and surround him while 1 took out a knife and stabbed him. These hundreds of kids stood and watched, many recorded with they phones. It was entertaining to them. They watched him stand and take the knife out of his own side not knowing it had already opened his heart. He walked several feet before falling. He told his girlfriend he was cold….He was even able to tell the paramedics his name. He was amazing . He survived 3 hours in surgery. He waited for me to get there and (in my mind) watched me walk up and down the corridor. They say as your soul begins to leave your body , you’re able to see all around you . Jesus, I’m sorry. I’ve gone through this in past posts. I’m having a moment. I don’t like these feeling . I don’t like these tears falling down the side of my face, I can hardly see while writing this . I try so hard not to go down street, literally . I’m on 55th Street watching my baby lay on the side of the road. It hurts so bad . His heart, my heart they’re both broken right now . I can’t reach him but I feel his fear and pain. It’s burning inside. I need to get away from here.  I’m tired. I’m so tired. All of this just to be able to remember my Pre Calc formulas, Jesus.

 

I’m sorry, I’m better now. I needed a minute to get myself together . I’m not even sure what the purpose was of this post . I just opened this and started writing . I need to get back to studying. I need to work harder on how to pull up certain memories only . Ughhh if only it was that easy. Until next time… Be Blessed.

Being a Mother….by Motherless Child

I was one of the faithful watchers of the Cosby Show.  Not for the antics of the kids who I should of been relating to.  I watched the parents.  I watched the love that they had for their kids.  I think back now of the countless shows that gave me gateway to the 2 parent houses that my heart ached so much for.  I am a single mother.  That seemed to be my mantra for so many years.  I jokingly will say, I was one, even while I was married.  The ironic thing is, both of my children were planned.  As mothers, (most of the time), it’s a promise that we take on for a lifetime no matter of the other players in the seemingly planned decision.  I would always try to be the best mother I could be.  That was my promise to my children.

My mother died when I was 8 years old.  She was my mother, only because she gave birth to me, but she never mothered me, not one day.  She was only 15 years older than me.  We didn’t even have a sisterly bond.  I can’t remember too much of anything about her except, I was going to be everything that she wasn’t.  It was said that she died from a heroine overdose, but they found her with the needle in her arm.  Someone had to have been with her.  From what I heard, she didn’t like to inject the needle into her own arm so, she wasn’t alone doing the drug.  I guess whoever she was with didn’t think it important enough to call the police when things seemed to have gone wrong.  This in my mind, makes it a homicide but then again, heroine junkies in the 70’s wasn’t an uncommon occurrence and certainly not one of importance.  So what, this 24 year old woman would never get a chance to make things right with her children, another solved case, closed.  So that left me, searching.

For the most part, and I can’t speak for the women who don’t have a connection with their children for their own reasons, we all strive for perfection the moment we lay eyes on our newborns.  Whatever mistakes we make along the way, its with love.  Few of our recognize that things from our own childhood will help and/or hinder our performance as a mother.  I’ve dealt with this not only as a mom, but mostly as a grieving mom.

I’m constantly plagued with the thought of, my sole purpose in this life was to give my mom a do over in spirit and be a great role model/provider for Teddy and Jalen.  My boys would have the utmost respect for their mother never being able to say they saw their mother in any compromising positions and I was their greatest cheerleader.  So when fate took my Teddy away, did I lose half my purpose?  How do you logically and rationally turn the love that you had for 2 children into love for only 1.  Not easily.  Not logically and certainly not rationally.  I’m told constantly by a certain 12 year old that i’m too overprotective.  I monitor his able move, sleeping and awake.  I get anxiety when he’s more than 5 minutes late coming home from school.  Do you blame me?  I sent Teddy to school and he was murdered.  If I had the patience, I would home school my youngest but I know that stunting his social skills isn’t productive for him.  See, I can think rationally at times.

So where does that leave this motherless child who is not half childless?  On a new search.  What i’m searching for, constantly changes.  The 1st year was for reasoning of this cruel act.  Now, I’m on the cuff of justice for Teddy and some type of normalcy for Jalen.  Whatever that means.  As for myself?  I want to find that new Ena who is able to deal with society again because at this point, i’ve cut myself off from all.  It may not be good for them, but it’s protective for myself.  No one really understands the pain of not only losing your child, but having your child taken from you brutally is beyond comprehension.  A mother, who promised that newborn child to always be there for them….. who failed when he needed her the most.  Do I feel guilty?  No.  I didn’t plunge the knife into his heart.  I sent him out with money in his pocket to pick up something to eat before returning.  I made sure he had a metro card so he didn’t get picked up by the police for jumping the turnstile, again.  I told him I loved him which by tradition, I always did when departing from my children.  I don’t feel guilty.  Did I fail him?  I wasn’t there.  Then again, if I was, would I have been able to stop the fight.  I think as a mother, I would of jumped in the middle of the melee.  I would of tried to break up the fight.  I would of…….so many things, but I didn’t.  I wasn’t there.  I think I did my motherly duty praying up and down the corridor while he was in surgery, and yet…. it was still his time.  So again, did I fail him?  I don’t know.  He’ll tell you I didn’t.  He’ll tell you that he knows that I was there until the very end.  I don’t think I will ever be able to answer the question.

A motherless child who is now half childless.  Still searching.  Still watching re-runs of the Cosby Show.  Now searching for the love from the parents and now some from the children to replace one of my children who is gone.  Do you think they will ever make a show from my life?  What would it be called?