Uncle

Dear Lorenzo,

When I was 18 years old I was dumped by my high school sweetheart, sending my world spinning on its axis and my entire sense of self-worth PLUMMETING. It was a despair I'd never before experienced and I had no idea what to do with the pain. One day, during my first summer break home from college, I sat in the living room listening to my parents chatting amiably and without warning, began to SOB. My parents looked on in shock while I ran to the bathroom to pull it together. A few minutes later my father knocked on the door. After allowing me time to cry in his arms, Daddy said something to me I've never forgotten. "You're going to get through this, Baby, you're going to be okay. Living well is the best revenge. Never forget that."

And I never have. It remains one of the best pieces of advice I've ever been given. 

(Side note, many years later I shared this story with my sister who replied, "Fuck THAT. Daddy was wrong about that one, REVENGE is the best revenge!")

When I was 25 years old, I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. At the time, I was living with a girlfriend in Los Angeles but within two days of giving my mom the bad news, my shit had been packed up by my aunt and roommate and I was on a plane back to Boston, where I would remain until moving to Chicago some seven years later. (Merle Brewington does not play when it comes to her children. If something happens to Fareeda or myself, we're coming home. Period, non-negotiable.) 

As you can imagine I was TERRIFIED by my diagnosis. I knew nothing about the disease and assumed I'd end up in a wheelchair or blind or with some other life-altering ailment for which I could do nothing about. I lived with this constant terror for about a year before going to therapy for the first time in my life. Eventually, my therapist was able to teach me to meditate; to sit my black ass down and BE IN THE MOMENT, no longer fixated on the future or the unknown. 

It was truly one of the best lessons I've ever been taught.

When I was 32 years old I gave birth to our daughter, bringing a whole new world of worry to my life. I knew even less about children than I'd previously known about MS and was certain that I would do something to break this tiny new gift I'd been given. One day, after crying to my sister about another long and sleepless night with my newborn, Fareeda said, "Screw the crib and the co-sleeper and put the baby in the bed with you. You'll all sleep better that way."

"I can't do that!" I protested. "What if I roll over in the middle of the night? Oh my God Fred, I'm going to crush my baby!" I sobbed, exhaustedly.

"No you won't." She laughed. "You're going to be just fine. Put the baby in the bed with you and get some sleep." And while it would be several more months before Amira MERCIFULLY began sleeping through the night, my sister was right. Just having the baby curled up beside me allowed all of us to sleep a hell of a lot more peacefully then we had previously been able to do. 

A dear relative has been having some health issues of late. I've been home twice in the past two months for that very reason and planned on going home again this weekend but tickets are ridiculously high right now, and frankly, I'm EXHAUSTED. A few days ago I was on a phone call with Cap when I finally broke, sobbing out all of my fears and my feelings of helplessness in the matter. After I'd gotten it all out of my system, he began to speak. "We're not going to do that, Dij, we're not going to play the what if game. You have to stay in THIS moment because right now he's okay. He's being taken care of and by your own admission, is doing MUCH better than he has been in months, right? We're going to take this one day at a time and today, he's doing really well. One day, one task, one minute at a time, okay?"

"Okay." I replied. "You're right, you're absolutely right and I know this, I learned this in therapy. One day, one minute at a time."

We got off of the phone so that we could both get back to work (and I could continue video chatting with Michele) when I noticed the Cash App notification on my phone. 

And there it was, enough money for me to go home, along with a note that read, "For your plane ticket, no worries ❤".

I called him back right away.

"Nope, don't even say it cuz I already know. Go book your ticket, okay? And Dij? I hope this goes without saying but...there's no strings attached, you know that, right?"

"Yeah I do" I said, smiling through my tears. "Thank you so much." 

"Bye Dij, go book your ticket."

And I did. 

Two round trip tickets to Philly for Labor Day weekend.

My entire family is rallying around my relative in Boston right now and had I gone home today, I'd literally have had no place to stay because we have family in from Barbados and my mother and cousins are all booked up so...I'm going to be selfish and spend his money to go see the person I most want to see right now.

Him.

One of my dearest friends Michael Rodrigues gave me another piece of advice I doubt I'll ever forget. "When a good brotha is trying to love you, let him love you." 

I hear you, Michael, I hear you. 

I'm going to do just that.