Thursday, March 29, 2007

My nightmare

They called me to tell me I could go see his body. I had to maek sure he look ok to go home. I had not seen him since he lift the house a week earlier. I was scared and happy at the same time. I had only seen two dead people, my grandmother and my great grandmother. I had not been to alot of funerals. Theirs were different. yes, I loved them but this was MY HUSBAND. I were not suppose to be doing this at the age of 32. This was for old women. I never dreamed I would be doing this.
I let my mother be with him first. I didnt want to be botherd once i went in there. I didnt know how I was going to react. I needed time to think. So I let her go in first and I looked at her. I just watched her cry. I just watched my mother with my dead husband. I could not believe this was happeneing this had to be a dream, no a nightmare.....I just had a baby, we were just getting settled. We were making plans...... He could not be dead. this could not be my husband lying in a casket. I could not be a widow at thirty two. I had four children under nine without a dad two under that age of two. what was I going to do. I had to wake up cause this was not real....No god could do this to a person I knew this was a mistake. Please God i thought look and make sure you have the right person. I cannot do this. I have babies.I need this man...... I am alone...... PLease wake me up.
I never did. The nightmare just continued. It just got worse. It went into things That I could have never in my wildest dream thought of.
I finally went in. He looked so good. I was amased at how he looked. His face had changed. He was darker, and his face was round not long like it was before. He was so hard. he didnt feel or smell the same. I touched his hands. they were cold and so hard. I leaned over to put my head on his chest. it felt like a board. hard and stiff. i just laided there. thinking about our life. thinking about how much i wished he could just give me one more second. i wanted to tell him I was so sorry for not knowing he was sick. I wanted to tell him I didnt know he was having a heart attack I wanted to tell him I loved him I wanted to tell him I am not strong enough for this and I needed him to come back. I cant do this alone......I wanted so many things but it didnt matter. I could wish for days but nothing would change the fact hat he was dead. He was gone. I talked to him. never said the things in my head. I told him I was going to be a great mom. I told him the babies were never going to forget him I told him we would be ok. I told him to rest and enjoy Jamaica. I didnt want him to worry about me. I was doing enough of that for ten people. I worried about everything. from the day Ken died until this very day I am a worrier. I think abotu death all the time. I think abotu how I will manage. I have aged 16 yrs in 8 yrs. I worry abotu my kids when they get sick. I mean i really worry. I am so scared they might die. I take every illness so seriously. I over obses about them and everything. Seeing my husband die killed me. It took away the old me and left behind a woman i dont even know. She is strange to me. I am still getting to know her. I guess in some ways she saved me> I think The old me could not deal with with what happened and this new woman came in to take over. I sometimes wonder what happened to the old me. I Wonder if I will ever see her again. I wonder if I would know her if I saw her. She has been gone so long I don't even remember her. I just know I miss her.

Next chapter Jamaica

Wednesday, March 7, 2007

The Aftermath

I waited a hour before I call the hospital. I knew he was dead so I was in no rush to hear those words officially. I called, the nurse asked who I was Her tone changed and told me to hold for the doctor. He got on the phone an said the words I knew I would hear. I am sorry Your husband is dead. We could not save him.
I said thank you and what do I need to do now. He told me the social worker would call me when the office opened. I hung up the phone. I called my mom, she told me she was on her way. I was happy I didn't have to ask her to come. Sh lived in Los Angeles. I knew it would be a few days but at least she was coming.
I was a widow. That all I could say. She told me to not think of that and get some sleep. SLEEP!!!!!! No way. I had things to do and people to call. I had to call his parents, his daughter, his siblings. I called his brother first. I waited until it was a decent hour. I remember the call very wee. Junior, Ken died last night. HE said How was he drunk. My husband used to be an alcholic, No I said HE had not been drinking. He got sick and died. I do know know what happened yet. They are doing an autopsy. I later found out he had a massive heart attack. He said I have to call you later. That was the end of my conversation with him. He called me again the next day. HE told me he was sorry but the shock was too much for him. I told him I understood. However, I didn't. I really didn't. He had not seen Ken the whole time he was in America. This man was rich. He went all over the world. Ken had done so much for him and he never said thank you. He never called him. Ken was always the one to call. So I didn't understand how he was hurt, feeling guilty maybe, but hurt no.
I called His dad. This was not his real father but he raised Ken. I Loved this man and I knew this was going to hurt him. I made the dreaded call. Marsetti I said Hey my lady...... I am sorry I have to tell you this but Ken died last night. The phone went dead. I thought hte man had died himself. I was so scared. I stayed on the phone at least ten mins. Nothing.I had to hang up. this was an international call. I felt bad but how could i stay on the phone with silence when it was costing over $1 a min. and I still had to make more calls.
Now the daughter, Keisha was 19. I knew she was going to take it hard and she did. she cried and cried. Her mother got ont he phone and asked was he drinking. I was so angry. They all knew he had stopped drinking and there are a million ways to die, why think of such a bad thing.
No he was not. He was vomiting all night and then he collapsed. Those words were going to be my downfall. I didn't know it then but i would learn this in a few days. She told me to call her if I needed anything. She said she would help me with the arrangements and Asked if I was going to send him to Jamaica
I told her I had not thought of that yet I Would talk to his mother and see.
Then I called the step mother. Another sad call. she called Marsetti, she was his ex wife. She told me he was OK , in shock but OK. I was happy to hear that.
She said the same thing everyone else did. I heard the samething over and over again for the next week.
My mother told me how brave I was. She said you comforted all those people answered all their questions and never broke down. She asked if I had cried yet. I said a little but I am too busy. I have the kids and a funeral, and I am nursing and I am dealing with too much. I still have to find a way to pay for all of this. I dint have time to cry.
I went on and made more calls. I called all his friends in his phone book and I called all the family I could. I was done. I could not tell another person my husband was dead without dying myself. I was done.

The family wanted him to go back to Jamaica. I did too. He loved it there and I didn't want him to be where he didn't want to be. So I let his mother make all the arrangements there. I did what i needed to do In America.
The next day I went to the store to buy his clothes for the funeral. I looked an looked but everything i looked at made me cry. The sales person came over to ask if she could help. I told her I had to buy clothes for my husband. It was his funeral. She looked at me and said You are so young. Death does not have an age i said. I told her I wanted something nice but not fancy. Very neat and not flashy. I instantly became the talk of the store. Everyone had to walk by me or point at me. was I the first person to have their husband die. I knew i wasn't but I felt like it. She picked out the perfect outfit. Black and green. It was so nice. I knew Ken would have liked it. I took it to the funeral home and Gave it to the man. Then I had to pick a coffin. I had to pick a certain type because he was going to travel overseas. Each country has rules as to how dead people can enter or leave their country. So this narrowed down my options a bit. I picked the cheapest one I could. It sounds bad bit honestly all it is going to do it rot away. All the flash is for the people who are alive. I for one didn't care how fancy the box looked. I wanted it to be safe, good quality to make the trip and I wanted it to be empty and not have MY husband in it. But that was not going to happen. I did my job. He has clothes and a casket. Now I had to wait two days for my viewing.

Sunday, March 4, 2007


Ken walked over to the bed and sat down. He said he was going to go to the doctors in the morning if he lived that long. I sat up and looked at him, What do you mean if you live that long. What is wrong. He said my arm hurt. It fell asleep and woke wake up.
I knew this was serious. I reached for the phone to call 911. By the time i dialed the number Ken yelled my name and hit the bed. His eyes changed colors, he was not breathing, his mouth would not close. I yell to the man on the phone he is dead my husband is dead. He told me to do CPR on him. I had to pull him off the bed on to the floor. I managed to move him. Now Ken was a very thin man but that night I swear he weighed 300 lbs.
I tried to do CPR but his mouth would not close and all the air from his lungs was coming into my mouth. I remember hearing a sound I never heard before. I pray I will never hear it again. The sound of death. It was loud, raspy and deep. I heard that sound for a year after that. Every night, Every day, Any time I closed my eyes and it was quiet I heard death.
I laid there and breathed in is last breaths. I took his breath into my body. I took him in for the last time. He was now a part of me. He would be in me as long as I lived. He was in my breaths.
When the Ems arrived They worked on him. I knew he was dead. The kids were all woke. They didn't know what was going on. I called my mom. I always said to my family If someone dies in the middle of the night do not call me. Just wait until morning. I need my sleep and if you call me I will not go back to sleep. Well Look who was doing the calling. ME. I told my mom Ken was dead. She yelled and screamed. She loved him so much. She always talks about how his face was kind and he use to always smile. She called my uncle and we had a three way conversation. My uncle said some mess. I truly do not remember. I do remember whatever he said pissed me off. I just lost my husband and he said something dumb. I wanted to smack him.
The medic had to use the phone to call the hospital. I got off the phone and sat with the kids. They were all sleepy so we went into the kids room and I laid them down. They took my husband out still working in him. They worked at least forty-five mins. on him. They did not see a black man and give up on him. they saw a man with a young family. They saw a man with a family that needed him. I remember one of them saying. He has a new baby .....This has to work. It didn't . Nothing they did worked. They took my Ken out the door. But he had left he building and hour earlier. I knew it when he hit the bed. MY ken was gone. MY ken had left me. He had gone home. He had gotten his wish. He was in Jamaica. HE was with his family and friends looking over the ocean. HE was at peace. I would never have peace again.

Friday, February 23, 2007

That night

The children arrived home from school and went on about their normal routine. They ate a snack, did their homework and looked at t.v. They were very surprised and happy to see their dad home. He talked to them for a while and then we talked about dinner. I asked him again what he wanted for dinner. I told him if it is up to me we will have leftovers. HE said, OK its up to you leftovers it is. I took out the food and started to heat it up.Ken had gone back to listening to his country music. However, this time he was singing along. He rarely did this. At first it was nice to hear him sing. He was sitting on the sofa with our youngest son on his lap and was singing to him. The sight of that is a memory I will never forget. I had not had a hands on dad. HE was a oh lets buy you ice cream kind of dad. A lets just do things to keep you busy type of dad. HE never played games with me, sang me to sleep. rocked me to sleep, fed me food off his plate, and he definitely never sang to me. Ken however, did all these things and more. HE tried his bast to be a great dad to all of my children. Even the one that was not his.
Jonathan was a handful. Ken never really complained about him but he would say if he was in Jamaica he would not get away with all of his actions. I didn't think that way because when he was in Jamaica he acted the same way. Although Jonathan loved Jamaica he liked being in the outdoors. He loved helping the older men, it made him feel useful. I think alot about what our life would be like if Ken had lived and we had indeed all moved to Jamaica. I wonder if Jonathan's life would have been better. The events of this night would change him forever.
I lost track of time and ended up burning the food. I decided to buy KFC and stop at the store on the way. I went along doing my thing at the store. I was feeling good about being out of the house. I had been copped up a long time. After I had my daughter I was back in the hospital because I had gotten an infection. I had a hard time walking because I had gotten a hernia while I was int he hospital. I was just getting back to being myself. Alone time was a blessed time for any new mom. I was not going to rush back home. NO way. I was taking my time and loving every second I was away. I had no idea of events that were taking place while I was shopping.
As soon as I walked in the door I knew something had happened. No one greeted me at the door. The kids were in there room. The house was quiet. I took the bags in the kitchen and started to fix their plates. As soon as my oldest daughter saw me she started to blab...that is her favorite past times , getting others in trouble. She told me she and Jonathan had gotten into an agreement. I look at her as to say so whats new. She then tells me Ken hollered at Jonathan. Now this shocked me. Not because I didn't want Ken yelling at my kids. It was because he did. Ken NEVER yelled about anything. I am probably one of the only people in the world that had never gotten into an argument with their spouse. Don't get me wrong we had many many disagreements, but we never argued. He never yelled. He would always talking to me with that Jamaican accent and make it all sound good. I knew Jonathan had done something terrible. I know he had gone way overboard. but for some reason Lia had left out the why. I looked at my son and asked him what did he do. He started off telling me what Lia had done to make him angry. I really didn't care about that part. I listened to his words.I had heard them all before so to me it sounded like .bla, blah blah.that is until he said the word Jaleel. My eyes almost popped out of my head. I said you did what. He looked at me and froze. HE could not speak he was frozen in time. I went into the bedroom. Jaleel, my son, Ken, and the baby were all on the bed. I told Jaleel to go eat and I asked ken what happened. He didn't answer me right away. He was singing this old country song. I snapped. This song was not one of the ones he played around the house. It was more depressing, it was sad, it made me think of dying. I said to him ina loud voice Why are you singing this stuff around my babies. They do not need to hear this. He looked at me and said I just want to go home. I don't feel well. He went into the bathroom and began to vomit.
Yuck, I thought. I wanted to get out of the room. I would come ask him what happened later. I get the kids fed and off to bed. Jaleel and the baby always slept with me. I was nursing the baby and Jaleel was not quite ready to give up his old spot next to his dad to his sister just yet. I was not in a rush to get them out anyway. I loved having a family bed. I still do to this day.
Ken took a shower and I had all the kids asleep. I finally got a reply to what had happened while I was gone. Jonathan and Lia had gotten into an argument. Like i said nothing new their. But this time Jonathan got so angry he picked up Jaleel along with the toy he was riding and threw him at his siter. Ken went into the room as soon as he herd they yelling and the crying. I sat there in disbelief. How could Jonathan do that. How could he have that much anger in him. How could he try to just my babies. I wanted to find answers. I wanted to know what doctor I was going to take him to in the morning. I looked through the authorised doctor list I was given with my insurance and looked under mental health. I looked for a woman and thought I am calling her in the morning. I am heart broken. Ken, however, was in the mood for love. He started touching me. I looked at him and thought what the hell is wrong with you. Our kids could have been killed, broken a bone, we are about to have child welfare all up inhere case anything you do they always blame you. Your the parents. They will think Jonathan sees Us fight and argue . I was thinking about all these things. He was thinking about sex. I never in the whole time were we together refuse Ken sex. He was Jamaican and trust me what they say is true about Jamaican men. However this night I said no. I told him my mind is too full and I am not in the mood nor am I goign to get in the mood. He said well you better figure out how to fix that son of yours. MY SON!!!! he had never said that. Now he was My son. OK fair enough He was mine and this was my body and he was not going to touch it for a long time. i thought to myself. I went to bed. Ken got up a few times during the night to vomit. I heard it but was not fully awake. He did however wake me up to ask me for a cup of tea. I was angry. I knew the baby was goign to wake me up soon to feed her. Was he goign to stay up with her, No I would and he has the nerve to want tea. I didn't want to but I did I got him his tea. I went back to sleep when the baby woke me up Ken was up too. Again he was in the bathroom. I asked what he ate to get him so sick. He told me nothing he must have some flu or something. I stayed up with him for a while. It was after three and I was begininging to worry. He came out the bathroom for the last time.

Thursday, February 22, 2007

The back ground

I had NOT wanted to have children of my own. I had been scared off by all the labor stories. MY mother had been in labor three days with me. My aunt that is younger than me had been in labor three or four days with her children. I was not bout to do that. I saw the ad and thought what an easy way to have a baby. Yes, I was a chicken. Anyway, I adopted my son when he was three months old. He was wonderful except for the fact that they did not tell me he was a crack baby. They told me the mother was nineteen and had five children, all boys. She had different fathers and she just did not want to do this again. She wanted to go to school and provide a better life for them. She stated on her medical records that he drank once, never took drugs and was not an addict. I took her at her word. I didn't care anyway. I had a beautiful baby in my arms. HE was all mine. I would love him and take care of him and I would be the best mother to him. I took him to my grandmothers that night. Everyone thought he was so cute. Everyone thought he was wonderful except, HE cried all the time. He never stopped crying except to eat or sleep. And as he got older he was extremely active. I started talking to the doctors about his behavior. I had never told the doctor he was adopted. I didn't want anyone that did not have to know to know. I didn't want him to feel like he was not my child. I would tell him he was adopted when I was ready when he was ready when we were all ready. As soon as I told him about the delivery the doctor said He is a crack baby. HE has all the symptoms and when you add the delivery into the equation it is almost 100% he was a crack baby. The doctor wanted me to put him on meds at the age of there for A.D.H.D. No way would I do that to my child. Yes, he was more than a hand full but he was only a child and he was MY child and I would NEVER drug him, I would eat these words later.
Ken met me in Jamaica. I had already had My son, Jonathan Matthew. Although my family was Muslim, I was not going to give him an Arabic name or a so called black name. I had heard storied from my step mother, who had been a teacher, that teacher would look at the names in the beginning of the year and try to pick out all the black children and all the bad children from their names. I was not going to have this happen tome. No one would look at his name and think anything about my child other than he was some rich white was also during the a time when I was finding myself. I didn't want to be Muslim. I looked at my family and thought they were crazy. NO WAY IN HELL WAS I EVER GOING TO PUT ON SHEET AND GO OUTSIDE. This is what i thought. This is what i felt. I didn't really want to have any parts of it. I used to think How could a man of God marry a nine year old girl and call it love. This was not a religion for me.
ANY WHO, We met Ken in Jamaica. HE lived in his brothers home. HE was building it. He was very talented. He could build anything. My uncle once said if you put Ken in the woods for six months he when you returned you would have a home and all the furniture. He could do anything. My Uncle Rashied had been going to Jamaica off and on for over ten years. He was best friends with Kens brother and got me the hook up to stay in his home while I was there. Before I left on my trip my uncle told me not to fall in like, love, or anything in between with a Jamaican man. They were all out to get a green card and they were no good. I knew i didn't want any parts of being a green card wife. So when Ken started talking to me. I did not pay him any attention. I was polite but i didn't have any real conversation with him. That was until one morning. I was upset. My room had all this red dirt in it. I did not see a broom and I needed to clean the room. My allergies were acting up kind of fierce and I needed some relief. When ken asked me what was wrong I told him. That afternoon he came back with a broom he had made his self. At that moment my heart dropped. I looked at him and didn't see this skinny, unattractive Jamaican man. I saw a tall, Polite, Caring Man. That night we sat out on the veranda and talked until maybe three in the morning.. I was in love.
Not only was he Kind; He was everything I wanted. HE was hard working. He was not a dog. HE had been married before and divorced seven years prior to our meeting. he had not had a girlfriend since. I was the first person he wanted since his divorce. HE told me when he was me his heart woke up. He told me for the first time in a long time he wanted to live not just be alive. The next day I spoke to precious, A woman that lived up the road from where I was staying. She and I had become good friends. I told her about my talk with Ken and she said If he likes you get him. Women have been after him but he does not pay them any mind. Maybe a half hour went by and Ken walk up the road. I didn't not recognise him. He had gone to the barber and put on Cologne and new clothes. I had to do a double take. He is not look like the man I has seen the night before. This man LOOKED GOOD!! I noticed every feature on his face. I saw for the first time the real color of his eyes. I saw this WAS a handsome man. Precious and I just stared at him. We were speechless. He told me He was going to cook me dinner. I had eaten dinner with Precious every night since I had arrived. This is was first dinner without her. She smiled and was so happy for me, for him , for us. I asked him what he was going to cook. He told me not to ask him what is was until I had finished eating because he was sure I had never eaten this before. I thought to myself OK, Precious did this to me too and i ended up eating cow foot. I didn't want anymore feet of any animals. by the way, Cow foot was very good. I still fix it every now and then.
That night Ken and I ate in his room. He fixed, rice and peas, red beans, and chicken feet. I swear what is it with Jamaicans and feet. It was SO good. HE was a fantastic cook. We ate and talked about our past, our likes and dislikes and about our future. I told Ken I didn't see and future for us. I was leaving in a few days and would more than likely never see him again. This was the truth. As sad as it was I had to go home. I had a life. I was in school, I had a job, I had a child. I didn't have time for a man and I didn't have time to fall in love. Ken said " give me two weeks. That is all I need. I want to show you ,y life and I want to show you Jamaica. I want you to know me. " I looked at him and said. I don't have money to change my ticket and I really needed to leave. HE offered to pay for the ticket fee and he was not taking no for an answer. Well needless to say I stayed and we feel in love and got married. I didn't tell my family anything about me changing my plans. When I didn't show up My uncle made a trip to Jamaica. His brother had told him he had heard that Ken and I were getting serious and he wanted to see for himself what was going on.
when he arrived Ken and I were already together. We had been married a few days. No one knew I had made him promise not to tell anyone until I had talked to my mother. I was her only child and to not seem e get married was going to kill her; and she was going to kill me. I ended up telling my uncle. I didn't not want him to think I was sleeping with Ken. HE had to know I Was married. He promised not to tell my mother. we had a wonderful time. My uncle and I had been fairly close. He was my favorite uncle on my mothers side. HE was the first on in our family to embrace Islam, everyone soon followed in their own time. I am proud to say everyone for my grandmother on down are Muslim. He left Jamaica knowing I was happy and told me if I had to fall in love with a Jamaican he was glad it was Ken. I was happy. I stayed in Jamaica for six months and went home. I told my family about Ken and everyone was so happy for me. I was so happy. Life was good.
My life would never be that good again.

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

That day

When I think of that night I wish he had spoke to me more. I wish he had told me how bad he was feeling. I remember that day, that night, that moment so well. I will never forget the feelings I had that day. It started out just as every other day. I had just had a baby. She was three months old and was doing all the things babies do at that age. I had a twenty month old son. My older son was eight and my oldest daughter was seven. We woke up and rushed the kids off to school. We lived in Minnesota and it was still cold in April. There was still snow on the grown but not the pretty snow. All of that had gone. It was dirty and grey. every night the street cleaners would come by and push all the snow to the side of the road. I remember thinking to myself the snow will be taller than me soon if the weather does not break. I had never seen so much snow. I said to Ken that morning how quickly he adapted to all the snow. Ken was born and raised in Jamaica. HE had never seen snow. He had only been in America a year. He and I had many argument about him moving to the U.S. He never wanted to. He never wanted people to think he wanted people to think he was with me for a green card. However, with each child I found it harder to travel back and forth. I wanted to stay put. the older kids were in school so my time in Jamaica was limited. I wanted my husband full time. I Loved being with him. I told him when I was pregnant with my youngest son He needed to move here or we would have no marriage. We filled out forms for him to travel the next week.
That morning Ken call of from work. I was so upset with him. I loved doing my own thing during the day. He was only going to get in my way I thought. He would sit all day and listen to this old country music. I swear I used to hate the stuff at first but after hearing it everyday for over a year. I began to like it. I even new all the words. But that day it irritated me to no end. With every depressing lyric, with each country twang, and every off key note; I became angry. As I sit and try to remember why I was angry I can not remember; but I remember the feeling. We played with my son for a little while and went to sleep. If any dad loved their son He did. He would dance him to sleep. Give him baths and spend as much time with him as he could. He was a GREAT father.
"Ken", I said, " Why are you home today?" He just looked at me for a while. Then he told me he hated America. He told me he did not want to raise his kids here anymore. This was the day after the Columbine thing. He said 'The children here are crazy. You work very hard t get a better life but do not enjoy it. The food is not fresh. It is out of a can or a box. The meat was not fresh. It was Nasty. he said he only ate to live. I want to finish my house in Jamaica and move back home.' I looked at him and was puzzled. How could you NOT like America. I thought. You lived in Jamaica almost 40 years and didn't have a pot to piss in. Did not own anything but the clothes on your back. never earned more that what amounts to MAYBE $300 a week and you don't like it. How is that I thought. Here we do not wash out clothes out by hand. I do not have to wait for you to kill a chicken to eat it. I can open a can or a box to fix anything I want. I can use a dish washer, I clothes washer, A dryer, There were no lizards..... But I didn't say any of that I didn't say a words. I held it all in because I knew deep down his life was simple there and he loved that. I mean really That is what I loved about him. HE was simple. He was a good man. Nothing fancy about him. He was always clean and always smelled good. He loved to fix things. If you gave him a piece of wood he could make anything with it. So I knew deep down all the things I had been used to, All the things that were important to me; were not important to him. He missed his life. I had taken him away from all of that. How could I tell him no. I turned to him and said,' How long will it take to finish the house. When do you want to leave. What do we need to do to make this happen." He said I Will need to go home to do everything. this means I will be away from you for a few months. The house wont be done completely but I will do enough for us to live. I will have at least two bedrooms. a kitchen, a sitting room and a bathroom." I said OK What ever you need I am with you.' He turned to me and told me something I will never forget. HE said THANK YOU!! I remember feeling so happy inside. All my anger I felt that day went away. He said Thank you for being my wife. I love you. You gave me beautiful children and made a good life for us here. I cannot ask for anything more. I didn't care why he was thanking me I was just happy he did. Many times we do things and never get a thank you and we feel used or unimportant. At that moment I felt at peace. I knew this man loved me and was grateful for all the hard work I did to get him to America. For all the hard work I had done to make our home nice for him. I didn't care that he was giving it all up. I didn't care that he was didn't like living in the U.S. All I felt was happiness. He turned to me and I kissed him. I told him I loved him and I told him Thank you. I said,' You are a good man. I am so lucky to have you in my life. You gave me great kids. You love them. You provide for us. You take care of your mom. You make me feel loved. HE smiled and said well don't forget that tonight when I want some loving. I smiled and asked him what he wanted for dinner. He smiled and said YOU.

Monday, February 19, 2007

Speak to me

I woke up that morning to the sounds of the ocean. I sat on the veranda, looking at the ocean. I thought about the beauty of the ocean. Jamaica’s waters always looked good, light blue and clean. It was nothing like the oceans in America. The waves were strong that morning, stronger than the day before. Then I wondered who controlled the ocean. I always thought God did and left it at that. Not this day, though; this day was full of questions.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “What do you think?” I answered with an attitude. He told me he was sorry and never thought this would ever happen. I told him to leave me alone since he was good at leaving anyway. I knew that hurt but at that point I really didn’t care. I was mad. “I yelled, “Why!” He didn’t answer. All I heard was silence.
“I love you, you know that, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I said. “But it doesn’t make this any easier.” I felt a warm breeze cover my body. I took the feeling and embraced it and embraced myself. “Thanks for the hug,” I said with a smile on my face.
“I like your hair. I never saw you look so good.”
I laughed and said, “Well enjoy it. Hopefully I will never have to look this good again.” He told me it was time for him to go and time for me to get ready. “I’ll see you shortly. Soon this will be all over,” he told me. Before I could answer, he was gone.
I went in and dressed. I wore a white shirt and a long black skirt. The white represented the pureness of the day. The black stood for the evil of the day. I made sure my shoes were comfortable. I knew this was going to be a long day. The last thing I wanted was to have my feet hurt. I looked in the mirror and smiled. At least he likes how I look, I thought.
When I arrived he was already there. I walked over to the car her was in and touched it. I spoke with the driver; he was pleasant. Enough small talk, I thought. Why are we still outside? He told me there was a mix up with the time schedule but we would be starting in thirty minutes. I asked the driver if there was any way he could get out of the car. It was so hot; I knew he had to be burning up. The man looked at me and said, “Miss, he is doing better than you or I.”
Finally it was time to go in. I kissed my son and gave him to my mother. This was no place for him. As I look at Ken, I thought he looked good. This was the most handsome he had ever looked. I knew he was pleased with what I had chosen for him. He always liked to look neat and smell good. He wore a black collarless shirt, olive dress pants, a very dressy olive and black vest and a pair of black dress shoes. He smelled of his favorite cologne. I always like how he smelled, but I didn’t remember telling him that I did.
As I got closer to him, tears started to run down my face. I tried not to let them form, but there was no use in trying to stop them. I kissed his lips. They were much harder than they usually were, but I did not care. I just wanted that one final kiss. I said thanks for this morning and I will love you forever. As I turned and walked away, the minister closed the casket.
That was the last time I saw my husband, but it was not our last talk. There is not a month that goes by that we don’t talk to each other. He lets me know he is around me in many ways. My alarm clock will go off when it is not set to go off. My phone will ring while there is a dial tone. Even the radio will change to his favorite station when it is off.
And on each of my children’s birthdays, I smell him wearing his favorite cologne. Every time he comes around I talk to him. I tell him how I am doing, and how things are going with the kids. We talk about lots of things. Some people May say I do these things to make myself feel better. Some people say that I am crazy. I say once you love a person they never leave you; even after death, they are still with us. They are in our hearts and minds forever. Some of them just want more attention after they have died then they did when they were living.