This day.

Today I give thanks. I thank God for today. Today is a heavy day, yet I love this day completely because I am here. Living and loving life, I am doing the one thing that I miss the most and what I couldn’t do for so long.  Perhaps his death was timely, I’m not sure how my father would have been able to handle this world today.  The current violence on display for the world to see… how this country loves to see black men die.  Last year I was angry because I couldn’t really speak about my dad’s death because it was so sensitive, tender, and mentally, physically, and spiritually exhausting.  This time last year was normal for me… it was my March 15^th… right before the world shut down, however, I didn’t have the luxury of a warning.  I had to be my own first responder for my child, my mother, and myself on July 3^rd at 9:52 am 2019.  I had to snap into action…carry on, no break, and no pause.   Forced to maintain sanity in my now insane world.  The eve of this country’s independence my father decided to liberate himself, simply stated.  I don’t know why, maybe it was his declining health, maybe it was his mental health, and maybe it was the pressures that 72 years of being a black man in this country will do to you.  He was not weak, my daddy was the picture of strength, you could feel his presence when he entered a room.  Men straightened their backs and women swooned under his voice, his deep French-Caribbean accent. My daddy was powerful and yet on that day he succumbed to every pressure this world had put on him. 

 

This day though last year, July 2^nd, 2019 was normal. 

Love & Blessings, 

Buttaflibabee