Out Of Darkness

by Smith, Stephanie Jean

  He gave my dates the third degree

  He left money in my coat pocket to spend on me

  He would stare into my eyes to see who would be the first to blink

  He had to sample dinner just to make sure the food taste okay

  He would make me feel exceptional after I had a hard day

  He took me to school after I deliberately missed my bus

  He said shit and make it sound like a sentence (SSSHHHHIIIIITTTTTT)

  He showed such patience as I hit a pedestrian in the grocery store lot

  He found me during my college graduation, took off his cowboy hat waved it around yelling my name.

  I thought I die from the embarrassment, but that was just his way of showing he cared.

  I miss you so much Daddy, and I will always be a “Daddy’s Girl.”

  RIP Daddy!

  Louis Richard (Rink) Smith, August 19, 1925-October 24, 1994

  Friends

  Me and group of my friends gathered for our annual potluck Christmas dinner. I have to say I’ve been looking forward to this since the beginning of the month. Now don’t get me wrong the girls and I are in contact every day through e-mail, and I always receive something that will make me laugh, cry, or say Amen!

  What’s so thrilling about getting together with these ladies is that I know I’m going to have an enjoyable time just because I know who’s going to be in attendance. I envision laughing so hard until I cry, cracking jokes on my friends, and drinking some fabulous rum punch.

  I have another group of lady friends from church and like the previous group; I’m in contact them on a daily basis. I see them at church, of course, which isn’t enough sometimes because I don’t actually get a chance to visit. However when I attend events to celebrate someone’s graduation, or birth with these ladies I have a better than a great time.

  I have to be careful while visiting with the church ladies because if I try to leave too soon they’ll try to block my escape. If I'm not careful, I’ll end up talking to these ladies all night. Also, church ladies text you during church service, I’ve since learned to put my phone on vibrate. Lord help me because my pastor isn't the brightest bulb in the package, and he says the dumbest stuff, even quoting nursery rhymes. I have to stay focus, or I’ll be on the floor in the choir stand laughing my head off.

  This brings me to my next question. How does friend selection process take place? Did I actually choose my friends or did they choose me? I’ve known my oldest friend since I was fifteen and I’d have to say that she selected me. I remember her telling me that I looked as if I needed a friend.

  Come to find out she saw me years earlier when I used to go to the laundromat by myself. She told me that she used to feel sorry for me because I was by myself washing clothes for a whole household full of people. I don’t see this friend as often as I would like. I only see her every once in a while, but if she needs me for anything I would drop what I’m doing to be there for her. What I find remarkable is that whenever she and I get together the friendship falls back into place as if we hadn’t spent anytime apart.

  A lot has changed since I was fifteen, but as I look at all the people I call friends I’d have to say that I felt an instant rapport with them all. I think that I’m an excellent judge of character, and none of friends has ever burnt me. Maybe because my friends are like me. Here are the adjectives I would use to describe my friends: crazy, encouraging, fair, faithful, hilarious, kind, proud, witty, courageous, and charming.

  My friends probably don't see these characteristics in themselves, but I do. One day I would like to get all the people I call friends in the same room. It would be an entertaining sight to see; some of them probably know each other, and the others would dislike each other on sight. Maybe I need to rethink this; I can’t recall ever introducing my friends to each other. Just because someone’s a treasured friend to me, doesn’t mean they’ll be a loyal friend for someone else.

  Anyway, to all my friends I appreciate all the things you do. Your support, laughter, and sharp wit have carried me a mighty long way. If I’ve been able to give you half of what you’ve given me, we’ve all been extremely blessed.

  My friend Ginger challenged me to use my creative juices to write a song. I thought about past relationships and Heaven's Door is the result. As I wrote this little tune, I could imagine Angie Stone singing my masterpiece.

  Heaven's Door

  As you lay sleeping, I wonder why my love was never enough

  I forgave you too many times for your creeping; still you treated like one of your hoes

  Thinking that you can keep me in check, sending me flowers and playing love songs, like you would throw a dog a bone

  It's my own fault for believing that you were the right man for me

  When I should have recognized the weakness in your overall philosophy

  I should have told you the truth that your lov'in isn't all that

  You've never taken me to that place all women want to go

  All women want to be taken to Heaven's Door.

  (Chorus)

  Heaven's door, Heaven's door, why couldn't you take me to Heaven's door

  Heaven's door, Heaven's door, won't be satisfied until I find a love to rock me at Heaven's door

  I don't want to hear false expressions of love from you

  I don't care about those other women who weren't true

  Sigh of relief that is over I've already wasted too much time

  My dreams of having a home and family wasn't stupid, it was my choice of men that was wrong

  Now my eyes are wide open I finally see that you'll never change

  You're a master player and sexing women is your main game

  All I wanted was your lov'in because I loved you so

  You still failed to take me to Heaven's Door.

  (Chorus)

  Heaven's door, Heaven's door, why couldn't you take me to Heaven's door

  Heaven's door, Heaven's door, won't be satisfied until I find a love to rock me at Heaven's door

  We're so caught in finding a perfect love, when we're so not perfect ourselves

  Looking so hard for someone to make us happy, not realizing that happiness comes from within

  I've got myself a new love I've known him most of my life

  No longer my childhood friend, I look at him with a woman's eyes

  Amazing how we overlook the love right in front of us, always supportive never snide

  He's been there all along through my lows and highs, waiting patiently for me to realize he's the one

  Most important of all he took me through Heaven's Door.

  I See You

  When I saw you just the other day, you looked as though you carried the weight of the world on your shoulders. I started to speak, but the sadness in your eyes stop me cold. I'm so ashamed; instead of reaching out to you my friend I took the easy way out and ran.

  For what I saw in your eyes troubled me so, it told of a life in stasis with nowhere to go. Your labor of love is valiant and often goes unrecognized. Your family views you as a convenience, not someone whose life has been put on hold.

  Caring for someone you love that deteriorates a little bit every day is hard to take. However, the love you show enhances your loved one's living condition and shows the true perspective of the circle of life.

  It was God's plan that children would not suffer saved by the care of their parents love. We know that we've come full circle when we carry the load for our parents and other loved ones who now travel on the downward spiral of life, or dare I say the end of the road.

  When you cry at night into your pillow thinking no one else understands you plight. I'm here to tell you that you're not alone others walk the same road. Keep your head up my friend, this phase of your life need not be seen as disappointing and bleak. For it's your patience and strength of character that makes you perfect for this feat.

  A person with a weaker constitution couldn't handle what you go through. You
were sent as a blessing to someone who has at one time or another has been a blessing to you. While I didn't always understand what you're going through, each morning when I arise I thank the Lord and say a prayer for you.

  Like An Island

  Nancy Wilson sang this song called ‘Don’t Be Like An Island’. The song was saying don’t isolate yourself from the people who love you. Truth of the matter is whether or not you act like you’re an island, isolated and alone. Whenever something happens to you, it happens to the people who care about you too. Would people put more care into their actions if they realized how much their actions affected friends and loved ones? If you’ve been beat up, jacked up, wired up, drugged up, knocked up, locked up, or hemmed up by life. Your friends and loved ones are right there celebrating or suffering with you.

  When I was a child, I wished that I was an only child, the reason being that there were just too many people in my family. Sometimes I felt invisible, and as time went on, the cloak of invisibility was treasured. Invisible people essentially get to do what they want without a lot of static. I learned to stay out of trouble and not call attention to myself; this allowed me the freedom to choose my own activities. My mother wasn’t stupid if I became too quiet she would investigate. She says that idle hands are the devil’s workshop. She would make ambiguous statements like that all the time to confuse and manipulate me and my siblings into behaving. I always preferred the direct approach; if I do something wrong my mother’s going to take me out. There are no riddles or confusing statements to unmask.

  I used to resent my siblings for stirring up trouble and bringing drama into the family home. My brother John is four years older than me and a pain in the rear as a teenager. He was always angry because he didn’t have the things other kids had. Every time I looked around he was into something (mostly trouble). It’s as if he kept pushing the envelope to see how far he could prod my parents. He got his height early; he was 6’3 by the time he was fourteen, and he thought he could take on my dad. One day my dad sent me to the store, but my brother wouldn’t let me pass through the front door. He told me that I had to say the magic word; my magic word was Daddy! “Daddy, John won’t let me leave”, and of course my dad came to see what the problem was.

  I still remember the look in my brother eyes as if he knew that day was the day he was going to put my dad in the floor. Well things didn’t go quite as planned for my brother, my father knew what my brother wanted, and he gave him the opportunity. My dad asked my brother if he thought he was a man to come and show him. My brother charged after my dad and ended up on the floor in a headlock. My dad asked my brother if he felt like a man now, and my brother said most respectfully, “no sir!”

  As the years have gone by, I learned to appreciate my family; granted family provides the highest heights and the lowest lows. Without family life would be a little less bearable. In addition to family, I have acquired my friends. I’m not quick to claim new friends because everyone who’s friendly isn’t your friend. The great thing about friends is that, unlike your family, you get to choose them. Every once in a while I revert to my invisible days, sometimes a person just wants to be alone. Boisterous family and friends don’t let you stay there long. There’s no way around this situation no one is an island.

  Music For The Soul

  If I were a song, what genre would I be? Would I be a gospel song singing praises to the Lord or asking for his forgiveness and mercy? Would I be a love song bemoaning my single state and crying about missed opportunities? Would I be the R & B song demanding R-E-S-P-E-C-T? Or I could be a smooth blues song begging to be free from the pain of living. Life is a song though not just one selection resides in my reservoir. I have been all these songs, and more, music is not just an expression its apart of the soul.

  For the important moments in my life, I can remember what song that was either playing on the radio, stereo, or in my head. The first song I learned in Sunday School is ‘I Am H-A-P-P-Y’. The first day of pre-school we had a picnic and the song that was playing on the car radio was ‘Soulful Strut’ by Young-Holt Unlimited, I remember this song because my brother Robert played it incessantly. The whole year of kindergarten the song was ‘Row Your Boat’, Mrs. Carter had an affinity for that song. In second grade I didn’t have anything for one show-in-tell Friday, so my teacher Miss Morgan allowed me and this other kid named Eddie to sing ‘Break Up to Make Up’ by the Stylistics.

  My first kiss was with J.J. Harris the song playing in my head was ‘My Cherie Amour’ by Stevie Wonder. I still remember his curly hair, large chocolate eyes, and smooth lips. J.J. moved to another state several months later and my heart was broken for about two days. The song that stuck out in my head during my first skating party was ‘Dancing Machine’ by the Jackson 5; I fell on my butt and fractured my Coccyx (tailbone).

  The first song I heard on my first day of being bused to school was ‘Bad Leroy Brown’ by Jim Croce. Not an unpleasant experience it was followed up by ‘If You Leave Me Now’ by Chicago. I was on the playground at Western Hills School the first time someone called me a nappy head nigger; the song playing in my head was ‘Strange Fruit’ by Billie Holiday. My sister Fern tried to explain the lyrics to me years before after watching ‘Lady Sings the Blues’, I felt those words in my soul that day.

  My first day of high school ‘Remote Control’ by The Redding’s was blaring from a passing car as I walked to school; I had a Jheri Curl, I was wearing a green and purple plaid shirt, jeans, and rust colored suede shoes (I truly loved those shoes). The day I was hired for my first “real” job, it was Halloween and ‘Monster Mash’ was playing on my new boss’s radio before my interview. The day my great-nephew, Dalamar was born, I was riding in my sister-in-law’s car. The song playing was ‘Ain’t No Stopping Us Now’ by McFadden and Whitehead. I remember this clearly because someone tried to steal my van the day before and I was without transportation.

  At my father's funeral, the mass choir sang ‘Precious Lord’ and every time I hear that song I relive his funeral all again. When I was re-deployed from the bank, I played ‘The Lord Is My Sheppard’ by Cissy Houston with Hezekiah Walker and the Love Fellowship Crusade Choir. I played this song before my meeting with my manager and the HR representative; I had a feeling something was going to happen at this momentous impromptu meeting. When I had my stroke, I kept hearing the song ‘Somebody Prayed for Me’. When I got up this morning, the first song I heard was ‘When Sunday Comes’ by The Tri-City Singers and Darrell Coley.

  Life is filled with music I can’t think of any event in my life that music was not a part. Whether it was a wedding, funeral, birthday party or picnic: music was there. Listening to a song can trigger memories of happiness, sadness, fear, embarrassment, hope, and love. Take the time today to feel the music today!

  Not A Dream

  If you're hungry, I will share my bread

  If you're thirsty, I'll give you my last bottle of water

  If you're tired, I'll let you rest in my bed

  If you need a ride, I'll be your taxi

  I'll gladly do these things

  One thing I'll never be, is the me you have built up in your dreams

  They say a photo says a thousand words, but I need you to hear words that are seldom spoken; to me they're the most important

  I'm a real person, not a photo, not a fantasy, and certainly not a dream

  Stubborn

  Irrational

  Sarcastic

  Oh, yes! I'm all of these things

  Loving

  Affectionate

  Raunchy

  Goofy

  The lighthearted side of me

  Melancholy

  Spiritual

  This comes with the territory

  Baby I'm for real, I encompass more than a snapshot could ever reveal

  I'm more than just a notion, and I will never be just a dream

  Pockets of Life

  I was discussing a lesson with a Sunday School student, and he
and I had a discussion about friends. I asked him if he invited his friends over to play and he said, "no, seeing them at school was enough". I asked him why he didn't invite his friends to his home. He said, "that if he invited his friends over they would keep coming back".

  I started laughing so hard that I hurt my stomach; this child was looking at me as if I’d lost my mind. I assured him that I was okay, and I totally understood where he was coming from. My student had unknowingly exposed what I call “pockets of life”. My goodness I thought I was the only one who ever felt that way. Why was I surprised that someone else shares an emotion or opinion that I view as uniquely my own or unpopular?

  One of my older cousins would bring her children over when she came to visit my parents, on the ruse of bringing me company (yeah right). When they came over, my mother wouldn’t let me stay in my room and read, she made me go outside and play with virtual strangers I didn’t like.

  My cousins called me a mean, boring, bookhead because never wanted to play. I just wanted them to leave so I could get back to book I was currently reading. I believe they call people like me introverts or hermits. I don’t like impromptu gatherings; I like things to be planned out ahead of time so I can mentally gear myself for whatever event that’s taking place.

  To me everything in life has its place or pocket; I have pockets in my life and there’s a place where each person fits. Co-worker’s of course stay in the work pocket. People from church remain in the church pocket. School and groups are assigned to the community pocket. Now there is a caveat for friends. Friends can derive from any of the before mentioned pockets, but they’re often reserved for unique and social events (e.g., breakfast, lunch, dinner, casino, movie, concert or just hanging out pocket, etc.).

  I don’t invite friends over my house either; in fact, some of my friends don’t even know where I live. It’s not that I’m afraid they’ll show up for a visit, or that I’m worried they’ll want to use the bathroom and hear the water dripping from the faucet. When people visit your house there is no genuinely polite way to tell them to get the hell out without hurting their feelings.