Cabbage

Once upon a time, about 20 years ago, I met a little boy named Emmanuel. For the first two years I knew him, I didn't know his real name. Everybody in the neighborhood called him Cabbage. Don't know why, still don't know. But that's the way of nicknames I guess. I found out what his real name was when he started school. My mom taught at the school he attended and simply refused (as was her way) to call him by anything other than his Christian name. To this day I think she is the only person who never called him Cabbage.

Cabbage was a very sweet little boy who was born into some pretty bad circumstances. His mother was mentally unstable and, at that time, smoked crack and hung with nameless men on a regular basis. I remember one night about 2 in the morning, I heard Cabbage outside crying and I went out to see what was going on. He was walking up and down the sidewalk looking for his momma. He was about 4 at the time. She had gone off on one of her nightly runs, so we calmed him down and took him back home (next door) and let his grandmother know what was going on. (She had been asleep when he went out of the house.) His mom was not big on making sure he went to school, or anything else, so we (me and Rachel and her sister) kind of looked out for him like that.

My mom came over to visit one day, and Cabbage, for some odd reason, fell in love with the purse she was carrying. (You know, one of the big, old-fashioned, "old lady" purses with the clasp on the top, patent leather and all) He was so fascinated by it that my mom told him that she would give him a purse for his birthday. And she did. (Because my mom was cool like that) He was about 6 and he loved that purse.

Eventually, his mom quit smoking crack and quit running the streets and settled down to try to be a decent mom to him and his siblings. She still had her mental problems but they weren't so bad that they kept her from finally realizing and doing the right thing by her kids.

It was shortly thereafter that they moved from our neighborhood. We still saw them from time to time and just a couple of years ago, his mom moved in right next door to Rachel's daughter, April. By this time, Cabbage had grown up so much, we almost didn't recognize him. But when April told me who he was, I asked him "You still got that purse?" and he just smiled and laughed. "No, but I had it for a long time." He had gone through the usual rites of passage for so many young black men in the inner city, drugs, gangs, some jail time,the whole nine. But he had come up out of all that and was keeping it together and he was still the same old Cabbage, and it was so good to see that he had turned out okay, after all the stuff he had been through.

He went by April's house today, to check up on her and see how she was doing. (She had knee surgery not too long ago.) He had his baby with him and they sat for awhile talking about the old days (like 20-somethings can actually have "old days"). He got up to leave and told April that he would see her later on, he had to take the baby back to momma and then go check on his mom. But not to worry, he'd holler back at her later. If she needed anything, just let him know.

30 minutes later, his girlfriend's ex walked up to him while he was walking down the sidewalk and shot him in the head. He died instantly.

When Tara (April's sister) called me to tell me and her mom the news, the picture that filled my mind was not of Cabbage as he looked this week, last week or even last year. The image that I have, that will not go away, is of a 6 year old boy, innocent in so many respects, that just wanted a purse for his birthday. Because he was too young to know that most boys don't carry purses and he was too young to care.

I don't see a grown man who has gone through so much. I don't see a guy who is tough, who has a child of his own, who has gone from naivete to reality over the past 20 years. I just see a little boy who couldn't go to sleep until his momma got home, who had so much love in his heart for everyone.

Peace Emmanuel. God be with you. We'll keep an eye on your mom for you.

We love you.

Peace allllll............

Just Putting a Couple of Things Out There

I am not an anal retentive snob by nature. Of course, I have those tendencies. I believe that everyone does from time to time, especially when it comes to peeves, pet or otherwise. And some days you just have enough of your irritations and frustrations and you just need to get it off of your chest. So here goes my sweet release:

1. It is NOT "aren't I?". It is "am I not?" Because I are would sound kinda weird any way you put it. Remember 4th grade contractions? Okay then. I never understood why this particular phrase ever came into vogue and why people continue to use it.

2. It is either REGARDLESS or IRRESPECTIVE. It is not, nor has it ever been IRREGARDLESS. (Sorry, my dad passed that one on to me years ago...another gift that just keeps on giving.)

3. Has anyone ever seen the show "Everybody Hates Chris"? I've watched it a few times. Anyway, the young man that plays the child Chris Rock character is a fine young actor. He was at an awards show recently and a reporter was interviewing him. She asked him what role would he really like to play in a movie. And he replied that he would like to play the role of Emmett Till. The reporter did not even know who that was. It is a shame that adults don't even remember this young man and then we expect our young people to really understand what the Civil Rights movement was all about. If you don't know this young man's story, please read it at emmetttillmurder.com. It's important and everyone should know it.

4. I am so tired of seeing people's boob jobs, rhinoplasties, tummy tucks and liposuctions. We are becoming an increasingly plasticized nation. When are we going to stop? When we all look like pod people? I don't care how big your boobs are or how big your belly is. If you're nice, we're cool. If you're a jerk, well then, you're just a jerk with bigger breasts and a smaller gut.

5. Women, please, please, please pull your daughters aside and let them know that the grinding and gyrating they see on televsion (or even walking down the street) is not appropriate behavior for a lady. And while you're at it, please reinforce in your sons that they should never expect a lady to behave that way.

6. What happened to all of the classic books that I used to read and why don't young people read them anymore? Beowulf, Dante, Sister Carrie, Silas Marner, Little Women, The Canterbury Tales, etc., etc......these were the tales of my youth and I understand that I could be considered ancient now, but still;)

7. It is not polite to interrupt, no matter how badly you may want to, unless someone's life is in imminent danger.

Okay, I'm done for now. Just for now, mind you. I'll be back later.

Have a nice day!:)

Peace allllllll..............

5.

HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY TO EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU!!!!!!! (even if you don't celebrate it and everything;)

Peace allllll..........

Catching Up

Let's see...where to begin. Last Monday, Grover and I went to the store to get a couple of sodas. The store is maybe a quarter of a mile away. We left Josh to watch the kids. This is not a new thing, as he is very trustworthy and has always done a great job with them. Well, as we are coming back, we are pulling up in front of the house and we see Josh standing out front on the walkway on the phone. As we pull into the driveway, we see that he is crying...hard. The first thing that goes through my head is that one of the kids has had an accident. Turns out that while we were gone Josh had to go to the bathroom and when he came out the front door was wide open and Lukas was gone. Josh was on the phone with 911. So, here I am trying my best to remain calm (and failing miserably) while I get on the phone with the 911 operator. I can remember my child's name, I can remember how much he weighs and how tall he is but I cannot remember for the life of me WHAT MY CHILD HAS ON. It is dark outside, it is cold, my child is missing and I can't remember what the heck I put on him to wear for the day.

So, the cops show up and tell us that they have a canine unit on the way and because of that we can't move. We can't go look for our child, we can't even walk down to the neighbors to ask if they have seen him, because we might carry his scent on us and confuse the dog. At this point, I am completely hysterical, Josh is in the house sobbing on the couch and Grover is stuck between the two of us. 12 cop cars are in the neighborhood by this time. (Where was Jakob during all of this? In the bedroom watching television, totally oblivious to all of the drama)

Right when the canine unit pulls up, the police officer who is there with us gets a call and says that they have found him. A block and a half away. These wonderful people who live in a house on that street just happened to be outside and just happened to see him running down the street. The man chased him down, caught him and called 911. So, the officer takes me in the back of a police car to go get my child. In all the commotion and the hubbub, I never even got these people's name. I did thank them, however, most tearfully and profusely. And I will be sending them a thank you card and anything else they might need to fully express my gratitude.

Needless to say, we now have brand new double key deadbolt locks on allll the doors in the house. Just in case.

And if I never say it again (and I probably won't), God bless the Huntsville City police department.

And I am buying a Polaroid camera to take pictures of my kids every morning now so I don't ever forget what they're wearing;)

Meanwhile back at the ranch, on to less "dramatical" (as Flavor Flav would put it) happenings:

1.Saw the season finale of Flavor of Love last night. Sooooo good to see that wacko psycho New York go home finally. And yes, I will be watching the reunion show in 2 weeks as well. What? You thought I only watched Masterpiece Theatre and documentaries? Please. There's something to be said for good old-fashioned brain rot every once in a while. Keeps you centered and keeps you from getting snobbish.

2. I will be planting a garden this year, if I can get this yard together in time. The previous tenants left a big ole mess out here, sticks and all sorts of junk that I have been cleaning up for a week.

3. I LOVE HAVING A BACK YARD!!!

So, now I am going to clean said back yard, after I check all the locks.

Peace alllll.........

HBD to BB

Happy Birthday to you Briana Grace Brown. You would have been 11 years old today and if no one else remembers, I do. I miss you. Loving you always.
Tell Mom I said hi.