Applauding the Little Things

I haven’t been able to do any creative writing since I entered the last contest.

I’m pretty sure I just need to give my mind a break. So, I’m writing this piece one:

to get it off my chest; and two:

to say I wrote something.

I was told by a mentor or two that if “you’re gonna call yourself a writer you need to write something at least once a day.”

But, if what I’m about to write today happens to help a few folk when they read it, that would be an awesome honor.

I’m actually doing this for me, because if I don’t honor my truth no one else will.

Sparing the details, lawsuits, and possible retaliation against me, I am starting my life over at age fifty-one.

And when I say I’m starting my life over…I mean over over honey.

In case you are reading this and don’t believe me, I started so over that I am in the process of obtaining my birth certificate.

Why?

You may ask this question for a myriad of reasons.

Surely, at fifty- one years of age I should have a copy of my own birth certificate.

And I did. As a matter of fact, I had all of my identifying documents in a safe in my son’s room. This safe was stolen from my apartment while I was having brain aneurysm repair surgery.

By a so -called friend of my son.

He thought the safe had money in it. 😑

My son’s former friend isn’t exactly the brightest crayon in the box, however, and to be honest, I don’t even know if the bamma was able to get the safe open.

If he did, there wasn’t a damn thing in there but my documents. I knew the kid probably felt like a smacked ass if and when he did open it.

And before anyone even fixes their faces to ask, yes my son called the police, but no, neither the safe nor its contents were ever returned.

Dear former friend of my son,

You could have put my documents under the doormat, dude! I wouldn’t have blinked an eye. But no. 😑

The theft could not have happened at a more inconvenient time. As you may have taken note earlier, I mentioned the it occurred either while I was still in the hospital or sound asleep at home recovering from brain aneurysm repair surgery.

Because of my health status, I am now permanently disabled and my income has significantly decreased.

Before the rupture, however, I applied for subsidized housing because even though I was working three jobs, rent was, and still is, high #af.

Imagine my shock when years later, I received a letter stating my name was next on the waitlist. Then it provided me with a list of documents needed to get an apartment.

I was elated, but I also was recovering from brain surgery and could not drive to the appropriate office buildings to get the documents replaced and submitted in the brief amount of time provided by the state.

Therefore, I lost my spot on the housing list.

And with rent being high and only getting higher, I had to live where I could afford. Because of that, I was subjected to a plethora of financial and emotional exploitation and abuse that eventually led to me being physically assaulted and kicked out of my place of residence.

But God!

With God, and His people protecting me,here’s a praise report:

I just got off the phone with a woman at the Vital Statistics office who said I had what I needed to finally get a copy of my birth certificate

So, I’m celebrating this small victory. I can’t wait to share all of my other blessings with y’all.

Peace ✌🏼 Love 💜 Exhale 💨