DIJA'S SECOND ACT

Dear Mum, I'm starting to be okay again. I'm starting to accept that you're gone. Today is Day 4.  I haven't smoked weed in four days and... I've been completely fine. Your diagnosis was really hard. The last three years of your life were really hard to watch much less to try and manage. Smoking helped with all of the anxiety but the thing is... Now that you're gone... I'm sad a lot but... I no longer have to worry about how I'm going to pay for your care. I no longer have to worry about whether or not you'd recognize Amira if I brought her to visit you. I no longer have to worry about you falling out of bed at the rehab facility that was your last home on this Earth. I miss you, I love you but... The anxiety was awful. So... I'm grateful that I'm healing. I'm grateful that it's been 4 days without weed and I've been just fine. I'm hopeful that maybe now, we can BOTH find peace wherever we may be.

Dear Mum, It's 1:06 a.m. Sunday morning and I've been awake for the past few hours. After a long day that included my virtual weight watchers meeting, an hour workout, dog walking, laundry, and cleaning the kitchen, I fell into a deep, coma-like sleep while watching the Detroiters on Netflix at around 7 p.m. I woke up at 11:15 p.m. to a Marco Polo from Cap. He's in New Orleans this week, working the Superbowl (lucky bastard) and complaining about...well, his usual, every day complaints. After about 10 minutes of chatting he ended his polo by saying, "And speaking of disgusting, I was thinking of doing some disgusting things to you. .." And THIS was the moment I began to tune him out.  We "broke up" two years ago for reasons I'm still not 100% sure of but after ONE fight, our relationship was never the same.  And here's the worst part.  WE STILL HAVEN'T TALKED ABOUT THAT FIGHT. He doesn't want to discuss it. So.... I did what you taught m...

Dear Mum, There are very few ways in which I'd describe myself that are not somehow related to you. I am Merle Brewington's oldest daughter. Her health care proxy. Her accountant. Her maid. Her literal voice when she could no longer speak.  Alzheimer's changed all of our lives forever. With one diagnosis our increasing concerns for you had been confirmed. You went from being my always in control, BOSS BITCH mother to someone who no longer knew how to answer her ringing doorbell. And I went from being a woman who was finally moving past the death of her partner to a nervous wreck who jumped every time the phone rang. I haven't felt like Khadija Brewington, just plain Dij, in so very long. I really want to get to know myself again. To rediscover old dreams. And to create new hopes and opportunities. I can't do that until I stop smoking weed.  As you know, weed is a coping tool for me. While I don't smoke a lot at once, I do smoke daily to deal with the constant a...