A Song for Mama

I want to think of this poem as an extension of Sorrowful Sunday.

But, in actuality, it is not.

The sorrow of that poem still holds my pain and my hurt.

The poem holds my truth and remains unedited.

I would love to change it and fix some of its imperfections,

however, in doing so I will be editing my pain which feeds my passions.

I was told that I should write you a letter,

but I could never sit down and write it.

I was scared and I was weak.

But then I had a revelation.

The language between you and I existed through television, music, and food.

The language between you and I is poetic; it is poetry.

The first song I wish to share is the one I sang so high.

Sometimes I feel like a motherless child.

I am a long way from home because you were that home.

Which leads us to the next song which is by my favorite male artist Luther Vandross.

I lived in many houses and none of them were that home that I needed.

I know now that part of it was because you were not there,

However, the rest of it was due to my failure to show up for myself.

I hated you for leaving, even though it was not your choice.

At times, I thought it was.

Not because you hated living, but because you were just simply tired.

But at the same time, I still hated you for leaving.

I hated you because I was the motherless child that stayed quiet

In order to keep things from becoming awkward.

I hated you because I forced myself to be silent.

I hated you for not teaching others how to love me as you did.

Which brings up another musician, Musiq Soulchild.

I screamed and sang to the top of my lungs, "teach me how to love".

Teach me how to survive in this world.

Teach me how to move on.

Teach me how to love myself.

Teach me how to forgive and forget in order to continue to grow.

Teach me how to forgive a man who said I did not love you,

Solely because I made the decision to smile at your funeral rather than cry.

Teach me how to forgive those who sat idly by and did nothing to heal my depression.

Teach me how to forgive myself for wanting to die.

Teach me how to forgive the culture of ignorance.

Teach me how to love.

Thankfully, I learned. Unfortunately, it was hard.

Queue Lyfe Jennings.

The man who was able to help me survive and learn the lessons you were unable to teach me.

The last song we ever sang together was "Must be nice".

I am appreciative of this memory.

This memory allowed me to find the light to love again,

and love you regardless of your shortcomings and short life.

It is crazy to think I avoided hearing this song for most of high school.

I did not want to cry. But life is crazy.

The more I avoided the song, the more Lyfe's songs kept appearing.

I think the greatest gift from Lyfe Jennings was the reminder it is okay to cry.

Therefore I did.

I let the tears run down.

I cried knowing the last movie we saw together was Dream Girls.

I cried knowing that our last meal together was leftovers.

I cried knowing that I could never come out to you.

I cried knowing that you could not see me enter high school.

I cried knowing you did not get to see me go to my 8th-grade prom.

I cried because you never got to meet any of my best friends.

But, I stopped crying when I remember the last words you told me.

You told me not to cry.

I remembered the conversation you had with me when you told me to start smiling more.

I remembered how people would tell me I have your smile.

In some way, you reminded me to be happy.

So here we are. A song for mama.

A song that is telling your mother how much you love her.

So, here I am. Mama, you know I love you.

I love you for raising me to never forget my blackness.

I love you for wanting me to be educated.

I love you for your flaws and your courage.

I love you for your support and care.

I love you for refusing to allow injustice.

I love you for losing both your job in healthcare and your licensure because you stood up for an elderly patient who was being abused by a white medical professional at the clinic you worked at. But they refused to believe you or the patient.

I love you for remaking yourself and learning a new trade.

I love you for being a small business owner.

I love you for standing up and showing love to every person who came into your orbit.

I love you for moving us around. From the trailer park to a house, you maintained a sense of home.

I love you for creating a step team just for me; allowing me to do more activities that made me happy.

I love you for the one time you asked me to drop off that one erotica book to your friend who was subbing at my middle school.

I love you for your beautiful medical advice "go sit on the toilet" for any ailment from a stomachache to a headache.

I love you because my favorite meal is still fried chicken, rice, and creamed corn.

I love you for making the effort of ensuring my biological father remained in my life.

I love you because I love him. He has made me into the man I am today.

I love you for marrying and bringing amazing sisters into my life.

I love you for all that you have done and continue to do for my life.

My song for mama is a message of thanks and love.

Mama, now you truly know, how much I love you