I really don’t know if I can stand to be any happier than I am right now!

Today is my little Princess’ first birthday. While this day probably means absolutely nothing to her, Brad and I are drenched with happiness; overwhelmed with emotion and gratitude. Not only did we work really hard (not just in the traditional way – HA!) to get her here, but we had to overcome many obstacles individually and as a union. But, we’re here and we’re a happy little Walton-like family.

So, the best way for me to express what this day means to me, of course, is through poetry. Enjoy!

For you I’d climb any obstacle in my path

For you I’d dare anyone to doubt my wrath;

For you I’ll sing until I have no song

For you I’ll walk the dreary night alone;

For you I promise to be the best woman I can

For you I’ll be strong and for right I’ll stand;

For you I will fight the evil of this world

For you, my sweet, my baby girl.

For you I’ll rise every morning and try

For you I’ll watch you sleep and dry tears when you cry;

For you I’ll always be right here

For you I will bring comfort to all you fear;

For you I will dedicate myself to good

For you I will stand in the sand where my father stood;

For you I will dance and sing and always twirl

For you, my darling, my baby girl.

For you I will love your father until I breathe no more

For you I will provide keys to open every door;

For you I will pray that dreams see reality

For you I will pray more for you than for me;

For you I will encourage, support and smile

For you I offer strength, love, beauty and style;

For you I will lend a hand to all that you may seek

For you, my babygirl, my darling, my sweet!

*03/03/2011*

by: Mommy the Queen

Happy Born Day Bralynn Jamila! Mommy LOVES you!

The idea of SIPPI, Sisters Increasing Positive Progression, Incorporated, swallowed my spirit years ago and it still flames my heart.   Here’s your opportunity to get join us.  Years ago, it became very obvious to me that expectations are high for the progressive-minded, professional woman. We are to thrive and excel in our jobs. We are to raise our children. We are to be there for our friends. We are to hold our families together. We are to be the backbones in our marriages/relationships. We are to uplift our communities. We are also expected to smile all the while. These are heavy burdens for us to carry. Yet, we do it. Each and every day we hold up our heads and march out of our homes and into society and give the very best we have to everyone around us. We do this without realizing that we are neglecting ourselves.

Therefore, a small group of women gather once a month in an effort to get back to “us”. We talk about everything and nothing. We are building relationships/friendships and throwing ourselves into the company of others who have the same struggles. We build and encourage each other. We listen. We make no judgments as we understand that though we are alike, we are also different and we respect each other’s differences. 

In doing this, we also turn much attention to our city and our community. Our primary (but underlining) interest is in youth development and the promotion of the arts. As mothers, aunties, sisters, we recognize that our roles in the lives our children will either shape or destroy their futures. We are firm believers in the hope and passion that the arts place in a child’s life. Therefore, we look for opportunities to support each other and to get involved in events/projects that introduce children to arts and creativity. 

There are no fees. There is no membership list. There is no pressure. We have enough expectations in our everyday lives. This circle of sisters seeks to add refreshing dialogue and a venue for release from the pressures of being a Woman of Distinction. If you are interested in joining us or would like to be added to the email list of events that we support, please feel free to contact me at funmifranklin09@aol.com.

Peace & Power!

Funmi “QueenFolayan” Franklin,  Founder

We are caught up in a game and don’t even know how to play.

But we think we do.

We think the game is about how much money we make.

….how many degrees we can achieve.

….how quick we can move away from EACH OTHER and into THEIR neighborhoods.

WE ARE LOSING

We think this game is about how acceptable we become.

We think this game is about how easily we fit in.

…..how transparent we can become when sitting in a room filled with THEM.

WE ARE LOSING

We think we’ve really done it big when we can call one or two of them friends.

….when we are served with a smile instead of a frown.

….when we are invited to the VIP parties just to get our picture in a dam magazine.

WE ARE LOSING.

People, we got the game all wrong. We are ignorant and we don’t even know it.

This game isn’t about fitting IN.

This game is about standing OUT.

This game is about knowing that you - YES YOU - are worthy enough.

You don’t have to try to be anything.

You don’t have to let anyone else’s image of perfection dictate who you shall become.

You don’t have to seek the anyone's APPROVAL.

You don’t have to accept the frowns you get when you sit down in a trendy restaurant.

If they don’t want your money or can’t offer you service with a smile - GET THE HELL UP!

Go home. 

Cook your OWN dinner. 

STOP patronizing people who EXPECT you to be inferior to them.

Stop acting like it’s okay to be judged BEFORE you open your dam mouth.

Stop associating with people who speak to you in a derogatory manner.

If it offends you, don't accept it - CORRECT IT.

You have every right to be intolerate of DISRESPECT. 

WE ARE LOSING

This game is confusing you.

This game is causing you to give up on YOUR PEOPLE.

This game has you so caught up in getting rich and moving your family to the safety of white picket fences,

that you don't see your absence is costing us the VICTORY.

....has you so snooty that you turn your nose up at a person who looks just like you because

your foolish ass is driving a car you can’t afford while they’re driving one that’s paid for.

It may NOT be as pretty, but the game has taught them that OWNERSHIP is much better than CREDIT.

How about that shit? 

You still learning, huh?

The game has you so intelligent that you can't answer a question without second guessing yourself.

Afraid that your answer isn't the POLITICALLY CORRECT one.

....your answer isn't the one that will be met with the least resistence.

Too scared to rock the boat.  You can't fight with a weak ass heart - drenched with fear.

You are actually a liability to this struggle.  Turn in your hand; you don't need to play.

You're lining up your cards to renig anyway.

It's really not that hard once you figure out which team you playing for.

You claim to be playing on OUR team but you showing the deck to the other players.

How can you possibly have our backs when you don’t even know how to make a dam book?

Problem is, you don’t know whose back to have.

CONFUSED. FRUSTRATED. TENSE.

Our thirst for the "American dream" has created such selfishness in our community that we have completely turned away from OUR BROTHERS/SISTERS.

Why are WE trying so hard to get the American dream ANYWAY? 

We didn't ask for the American dream. 

We ought to be handed the American dream on a SILVER PLATTER.

Who said we have to be the ones to chase the American dream?  Who said your dream is all that American? 

Who said your dream is my dream?  How the HELL can we all have the same dream?

WE ARE LOSING. 

We have left ourselves to fend for OURSELVES.

This is certainly not the STOCK to which we were born.

We come from generations of people who suffered and celebrated TOGETHER.

We must UNLEARN all that we’ve taught ourselves to survive.

It’s not your fault. We are forever going to adapt to exist. We’ve done it for many years.

However, now, we are CHEATING our brothers and sisters.

We are neglecting our children.

We are failing our communities.

We are doomed if we don't incorporate some teamwork into this game. 

We are destined to REPEAT our past if we don't face our future TOGETHER.

WE ARE LOSING.

Pretty soon we'll wake up one sunny day with no control over the cards.

We won't even recognize the dealer.

We'll be sitting at the table, mouths wide open, praying for some shudda, wudda, cuddas....

Realizing that ALL we've taken for granted and left to chance --

our freedom, our voice, our rights, our minds, our schools

We've given it all away because we didn't play this dam game together.

Then we'll recognized that it's too late

We've lost....and the GAME IS OVER!

No matter how you slice it, discrimination is wrong. Whether it’s racial, political, religious or based on gender, treating an individual any certain way based on a perception or preconceived notion is never fair. 

Recently an email circulated regarding a manager at a well known restaurant in Ridgeland, MS. An African American woman was seeking details on making arrangement for a birthday party for her mother via email. When the party planner responded to this customer to arrange the party she included (whether intentionally or not) the email from the restaurant manager that referred to the customer as “ghetto” and then continued to make the statement that “…they love us don’t they”. 

I’m immediately struck by the fact that this manager has the audacity to put a comment like this in writing. Any professional person who has ever worked with other people (especially in supervision) knows you never put a crass statement like this in written form. *Shaking my head* To me this indicates that he felt this discourse with the party planner was acceptable. Thus, this lends to the idea that this attitude of superiority isn’t just his, but is likely shared around that particular restaurant. He obviously didn’t think these words would be offensive to the person he sent the email to otherwise he would have continued to mask his attitude about the “ghetto” people who come into their restaurant and love it so.

In the metro Jackson area we have seen a good number of public notifications from suburban businesses that attack Jacksonians. We are “ghetto”. We are criminals. We are many other commonly used and totally derogatory names. But that still hasn’t stopped us, black and white, from high tailing it across the county line to spend our hard earned dollars in a city and a county that doesn’t think much of us and its residents scream it to the heights of their emotions.

On any given day you can go to public websites and read outrageous notions about how counties outside of Hinds are so much better to live, work and play. Let them tell it, their police departments are better. There is no crime because all the criminals are caught that day. There are no break-ins -- unless, of course, someone from Jackson comes over there and robs them. Life is just sunny and dandy once you cross over the line that separates us from them. 

Now, I’m no genius but you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to know that most of these people are separatists. They live by the idea that they are better than us and that they should be left to live in their own little world without the interference from those who breathe the Jackson air. Did you know that Jackson is nearly 80% (more or less) black? That being the case, is it not safe to assume that the people who they really have a problem with are black people. Sure, it sounds hard and reads harsh, but it’s the truth. Sorry, but I have no desire to sugarcoat this for you. If you are offended, I suggest you stop reading now because it’s only going to get worse from here.

I’m angry.

Am I angry at the restaurant manager? Sure I am.

Am I angry that a Mayor would cancel a community festival last year because too many people who reside on the opposite side of the county line (Jackson - for clarity) were planning to attend.  Dismissing the fact that they spend their money there too? Of course I am.

Am I angry that this young black woman was referred to as “ghetto” without being seen? Yep, I am.

Even in all that anger, I am not surprised one bit. In all this anger it still doesn’t touch the amount of frustration and irritation I feel at African Americans in Jackson that continue to run away from the city they work in, pay taxes in, and reside in to spend their money in another city/county that uses every possible opportunity to show us that we are not valued, respected, or welcomed. What is that about? If you went to visit a neighbor and got to their door -- knowing they were home-- and they didn’t answer the door, would that not give you indication that they did not want your company? Well, what if they came to the window, pull back the curtain, lifted the blinds, stared at you and still refused to open the door. Would you go back there? How long would you stand there looking at them before you realized that clearly this neighbor isn’t interested in sharing in your company and doesn’t want to know why you are knocking on the door?

I think it is pathetic that we would compromise ourselves and our importance in such a fashion that we would discount being discriminated against to shop at a certain store or eat in a particular restaurant. Really? You just want a steak so damn bad that you have to go some place where your dollars aren’t green, but black. You want to drive way out to another county to shop instead of putting you money back into the city where you pay utility bills. Then to top that off, when the water pipes burst and there is no money to fix them, you complain. When we can’t pay for proper police training you complain that JPD is incompetent and is incapable of protecting us. When the largest mall in the area is facing foreclosure because you’re running outside of the county to shop at a mall that doesn’t want you there in the first place, you complain that there are not enough stores in the Metro Center. Why are there no stores in the Metro Center? Why is it that the Metro Center has been struggling for most of your lives? Simple. It’s because this community is not taking care of this community. We are taking money to North Park paying for their renovations and new stores instead of putting money back into our community mall. 

See when you hear the phrase ‘Buy Local’ it isn’t because it sounds good. It’s because we have no choice. If we don’t buy local and support our own in a few years you will look around and our city will be a mere memory of what it was once and is today. There will be no businesses here. There will be no money here. Everyone will have moved away from our capital in search of a better life. Instead of staying here, claiming our city back and MAKING life better. 

If our forefathers and mothers who had sit-ins and marches against this type of wrong doing had the attitude we seem to have, integration never would have happened. You’d still be seeing the “Whites Only” and “Colored” signs plastered all around this city. We seem to think that because those signs don’t hang anymore that we are not living in the same world as we were then. Surely you just. WE ARE! The only difference is the signs have come down and we refuse to stand up (or sit-in) when discrimination stares us right in the face.

Why is this fight not yours?

Why is this acceptable? 

Look people, it’s early in 2011. Let us make this year the year that we unite against any discrimination we face. Let us begin to stand together – hand in hand- as our grandmothers and grandfathers have done before us. Let us scream out against injustice. Let us remember the blood that runs through us. Let us not forget what we are made of. Let us make it known that we are aware; we are not afraid; and we have right on our side. Gone are the days when we will simply allow those who discriminate to do so right to our face without any hesitation or regard for ramifications of those actions. 

“If you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for anything.” -- Fredrick Douglass

Sometimes we move so quickly through life that we miss the important things.  We miss the quick glances of those who admire us.  We pass thru the moments that come to shape our mindset.  We breeze by great relationships.  We even forget to smell the roses.  I'm as guilty as you are of letting life pass me by.  But, in 2010 I experienced enough heartache and happiness to realize that we only get one time around in this life and we owe it to ourselves to make the best of it.  Not only to we miss our blessings by going to fast, but we also neglect opportunities to praise the Creator for touching our lives and making our existence worthwhile.

Whether we are chasing love or dreams or, living for other people's acceptance, we tend to neglect ourselves - our own understanding.  We get so wrapped up in the every day routines of our lives that we simply ignore the small things that come unto us to give us reason to laugh and smile.  We get caught up in what people think or say.  We don't take time to put our focus on what really matters to us.  This will eventually take over our being and before we realize it, we're older and we've missed the life we were created to live.

I realize that I have placed my energy on relationships that aren't worthwhile.  I have spent too much time trying to evaluate what I can do to mend relationships gone bad.  But none of these relationships are as important as the ones with my brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews, husband and children.  When all else fades, these are the relationships that will last.  These are the people I should turn my attention to before I can place myself in a position of service.

Going foward, this is where I will place my energy.  This Kwanzaa, without Mama, somehow opened my eyes to the children as if they weren't there before.  Maybe it's because it was Mama's job to see to the children and look out for them.  Since she's no longer here, we all must pull together to continue to shape our children into productive, positive adults.  Now's the time to repeat those words of advice that we barely listened to when Mama said them over and over again.  I heard her eventhough I didn't pay much attention.  I am now slowing down long enough to hear her all over again.

I am thankful for the many lessons I've learned throughout this emotional year.  I am grateful for the trials and tribulations and know that out of it all I have been reborn.  Most of all I am thankful for today.  I am thankful for this second chance to stop and live life instead of letting life live me.  I realize that the small things are going without my attention.  I've been neglecting the simple treasures of life trying to win a race that I created in my own mind.  This isn't a race.  It isn't a game.  It's life and we only get one.  I refuse to waste one more day on my selfishness.  No longer will I let the flower in the corner go unrecognized.  My family, the flower, needs me.  I plan to be there.  After all, tomorrow isn't promised to us and I want to make each day mean something. 

I can feel it. My soul is rejoicing and my mind is energized. I can feel the spirits of my father and mother joining again in the heavens and together they are sending me heavenly power. All that has been stirring in me this whole time is about to be released. We’ve only scratched the surface of what I’m meant to accomplish. We’ve only seen a small inkling of this Queen’s capabilities.

I’ve been focused on the wrong things. 

Recognition. 

Appreciation. 

Accolades. 

Real work and dedication needs none of those. 

At my mother’s funeral, Bro. Frank Figgers spoke of accomplishments my mother had achieved that I knew nothing about. I knew Mary Spencer as Mama. By the time I came around her activism was limited somewhat. She was 34 years old and mothering had taken over the driver’s seat in her Cadillac of life. Well, mama, you may rest easy now because your baby girl gets it. I shall now be the fuel that gets this caddy back in motion! 

I’ve been shocked into real existence. This energy is unexplainable and I won’t even try. I will only warn you that I will no longer worry about what you think of me. I will no longer speak softly and hold my piece. I will no longer allow your thoughts to influence mine. I will no longer listen without understanding. I will no longer allow you to silence me. I will no longer walk the tightrope. I will no longer worry about “getting alone” with you. I will no longer do just enough to get by. I will no longer allow you to lie to me, in my face, without challenging you.  

I see that this was a plan all the while. Upon birth, my father took one look at me and he called me Funmi Folayan.  My name has declared my destiny.  Funmi means to help people; Folayan - to walk in dignity.  This has been my life's purpose and it began with my first breath.  

From this moment on I will be strong and vocal; direct and precise; rejuvenated and energetic; healthy mentally and physically. I will fight with my mind and my soul against evil and wrong doing. I will work with diligence and dedication.  I will crown my people with jewels of knowledge, pride, and strength. I will pattern my life in the likes of my free spirited, never-say-die ancestors. I dare you to get in my way and I will run over you if you try!

I AM QUEEN FOLAYAN ~ BORN OF ROYAL BLOOD ~ AND I HAVE OWNED IT!!!!! 

As 2010 nears its end, I suppose it’s about time for me to do my annual Year in Review. I usually feel pretty good about this time of evaluation and reflection. During this time I look to find the lessons learned throughout the year. I dissect the good and the bad. I review my actions and reactions. Then I prepare a mindset for success for the year ahead. This year however, I am not at all looking forward to this review although; I must for my own preservation of mind and soul.

March 2010

The most blessed of gifts was sent to my husband and me – Bralynn Jamila Franklin. She burst into this world full of life and cheer. She has been a source of great joy every since. Although complication during delivery led to what has turned out to be months of pain and agony, her smile and delightful energy masks the hurt. 

When I received the epidural for pain, the specialist did something wrong and had to stick me twice. I didn’t know it then but that was the start of months of pain. Hours after Bralynn arrived I began to have horrific headaches that were so bad that I couldn’t even lift my head from the bed. Since I was trying to breastfeed, my doctor (remember her, the angel from previous blog) insisted that I have a blood patch done. So, I did. I had to stay in the hospital a couple of days longer than I had hoped, but when I left, I was much better and looking forward to taking my precious bundle of joy home to her father, brothers and sister.

May 2010

I returned to work with must hesitation.  I didn't want to leave my daughter.  But it was during this month that I forced to acknowledge the severity of the pain running down my left leg.  Sometimes making it difficult to walk and even woke me up throughout the night. But trying to get back into the swing of things at work and catching up on my onsite inspections (statewide) I tried to take pain meds and hoped that the pain would go away. Needless to say, it did not – it got worse.

September 2010

I was faced with having to make a decision of going to Atlanta to celebrate my Grandmother’s birthday or staying in Jackson to celebrate my mother’s birthday. I was conflicted by this because I hadn’t seen Grandma in many years and I wanted her to see Bralynn. But, after prayer and meditation, I decided I had to be here for Mama’s birthday and I’d plan to see Grandma as soon as possible. This will soon become one of the best decisions I’ve made in my life, thus far.  It was a stellar celebration – a fish fry. One that mother said was the best she’d ever had in her life. We had a great day with her that day. She ate and ate until she couldn’t eat anymore. 

Later in the month, September 18, 2010, my husband and I celebrated our first anniversary as a married couple.  It was a beautifull time for us.  Considering our schedules and our devotion to the city of Jackson we elected to again put off our previously planned get away and celebrate at home.  No kids.  No television.  No obligations.  Just us - and chicken wings (my faaaavorite) and vodka.  It was a most wonderful night.  I couldn't have asked for a better way to spend our anniversary.  Looking into my husbands eyes that night made me realize that this love is for real.  It's special and it can't be replaced.  My heart openned up even more that night than it did the night a year before when I met him in front of my family and close friends to welcome a lifetime of togetherness.

October 2010

After pushing myself as far as I could with the piercing pain in my leg, I finally had an MRI and it showed that I had a herniated disk which was resting on a nerve in my back. UGH!!!!! Are you kidding me? Since we don’t have any idea where it came from, I speculate that it came from carrying my precious baby girl in my aged body that hadn’t had any type of pressure of that kind for 15 years. My body, although in full cooperation, was in shock at having to carry that load I was so happy to welcome.

November 2010

On Thanksgiving Day, we again celebrated as a family. It’s always a great day to see everyone and to shower Mama with hugs and kisses. This time though, she spent much of the day sleeping. But, it didn’t matter, she was still there and we all appreciated having her in our midst. That was on the 26^th. On November 30, my mother went to sleep, woke up early and told the nurse at the nursing home that she was “ready to go”. Since it was hours before her ride to dialysis was to arrive, they informed her that she had plenty of time and that she should just go lay back down and get some rest. She did. She slept straight into her eternal rest.

December 2010

So, I close out this year without the most consistent love I’ve had in my entire life. One of the first things I did was pull a column I’d written in the Jackson Free Press titled, “A Woman’s Worth”. I wrote the piece after a Celebration of Life Ceremony that we’d put together for Mama.  I noticed that the date was December 10, 2008. This date, two years later, would be the beginning of the weekend that we laid her earthly body to rest. 

Still suffering from this pain of not having my mama around to offer advice and comfort and being there for me no matter what life throws my way, I am now having to face outpatient surgery on the pinched nerve in my back. It’s only been days since mama’s transition and already I am faced with a major episode of life without my mother there to calm my anxiety and reassure me that everything will be okay. But, I know she lives within me and I can hear her whispering to me, “Baby, just pray. God will take care of you. It’ll be ok.”

This year started out with me opening my heart to a brand new love and it ended with my heart being shattered into tiny peices letting go of a love that's held my heart captive for all my days.  In between that time, I have grown closer to my sisters, Keda and Darlene; to my son, RhoShon; and to my husband, Brad.  I know that it's all because the Creator favors me enough to give me exactly what I need and not anymore than I can bare. 

So 2010, here's to you....

Two Thousand and Ten

A joy and a pain you’ve been

I wondered for many years

And even cried as many tears

It took fifteen of you

For my blessing to come thru

But now I can clearly see

Why the years before couldn’t be

When I think of what mostly, I’d miss

It’s her angelic smile that seems to persist

But I can still see it every day

It’s just in a smaller frame and way

I don’t have to question the Creator’s plan

For His strength is perfect and I understand

I never would have had the strength to get through

If I didn’t have that 9 month old baby to cling to

So dear Lord of Heaven, all my trust I give

With the promise of a better life I’ll live

There will never be another twenty-ten

For this is the year I’ve changed within

No longer my mama’s baby and it hurts me so

But I find comfort in all I know

This reality brings many tears and much pain

Yet her living shall not be in vain.

**QueenFolayan**

12/14/2010

Mama, I love you forever and always. Rest in Peace, my precious, precious angel.

I picked up my little princess from day care yesterday, brought her home and proceeded to get her ready for her 6:00 meal and nap that she’s enjoyed every day for the last two months. She gulped down her bottle with ease (after I had to add more milk because it was too thick and she did a good bit of complaining about that). But, no nap was in the cards this evening. She was wide awake and ready to venture into daddy’s corner to chew on his shoes or grab at his dinner tray. I thought this was strange for a moment but then it came to me. Today, November 3, 2010, marks 8 months of life for her. Eight months. In four more, she’ll be one year old. WOW! There is a very particular reason why this is such a tremendous accomplishment. Sure, I’ll share….

My first child, my son – RhoShon, was born to me after three miscarriages. I was trying to get pregnant. I wasn’t very smart during that time of my life. My decisions were warped by what I considered to be a life long love affair. This love affair cost me a college degree; a decline in self esteem; and, a lifetime of emotional baggage and insecurity. But, it was all worth it because I was able to bring this child into the world and he’s been a most perfect gift. There are many things I wish I could do over from that period of time, having him is most definitely not one of them.

Time passed and the dangerously infectious love affair ended. I started enjoying life and doing a little bit of dating here and there. I was fine for a while but then the desire to be a mother again started kicking in right around the time my son was turning seven. It was also around this time that he went to live with his father who was in a more stable environment than I was.   I tried to ignore the desire since I wasn’t in a relationship that amounted to much, but I knew it was there even though I tried lying to myself to mask the pain of not being in a committed relationship and thus not being anywhere close to being ready for the child I desired.

Then, the Creator sent me hope for change. I met Brad, the man who would one day become my husband.  After a brief courtship, we eased into a relationship without even knowing it. We were living for the moment and not sure what was to happen, but we didn’t concentrate on marriage or children. Neither of us, at that time, were being the parents we wanted to the children we already had for one reason or another, so we made a mutual, conscious decision to just let life live us instead of trying to make plans for the future. This decision later came back to bite us on our pretty little fannies.

Our lives began to take different directions and we drifted away from each other. We ended our coexistence and tried to start new lives. During the time away from him, I began, again, to want a child. I was lonely and hurt, tainted. I needed another opportunity to prove to the Heavenly Father that I could be a good mother. I realized by now that I had wasted precious time with my son by choosing to let him live with his father. I had began to hate making that decision although, deep down within, I knew (and still know) that was the best decision I could have made. Confession: I never thought when I got myself together he’d pass up on the opportunity to come back to live with me. I never EVER considered that he’d choose to stay with his father. But he did and that hurt me for many years – still does. So, I wanted to prove to myself and to my son that I was ready to be a mother holistically. Maybe then he’d come back. I honestly didn’t care at that time if I was “with” the father or not. I wanted to give some validity to my life and to show just how far I had come in my adulthood.

Needless to say, I did NOT get pregnant. Not even any close calls. I began to sink into a terrible depression because I believed that the Creator had given up on me. He didn’t find me worthy enough to bring one of his children into the world. Wow, that devastated me. If I was only given one shot at this, then I’ve failed. I haven’t been able to actually BE a mother. Was the Creator now punishing me for a decision that I made after much prayer and meditation?

At my lowest point, Brad re-enters my life. He restored my strength - again. He lead me right back to the person I was born to be. He picked me up and carried me away from that hurt and pain that I’d claimed. I was able to let go of all the negative thoughts I’d welcomed. I had begun to feel really good about myself and about my life and about love.

Our relationship picked up where it left off minus the years between. We started having discussions about marriage and children that we’d never had before. I was pretty sure I had lost my best years and that I wouldn’t be able to have another child. I tried to prepare him for that. He understood, but being the well balanced man that he is, he asked me to go to an OBGYN just to check so we’re not spinning our wheels and so that I may keep my sanity in tack. I’m not sure I could have gone through the pregnancy tests every month and the praying and the hoping.  I wouldn’t have survived that again.

Under the doctor’s care, I had three ectopic pregnancies in a year’s time. By the third, I was loosing touch with reality and becoming a bit frazzled with life in general. I remember spending many nights crying and begging the Creator to reconsider me for motherhood. I remember feeling like I had not completed what I was put on earth to do. That’s a horrible feeling. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. I was depressed, but I kept going and I tried to mask my inner turmoil. Finally, the doctor said there was a procedure she could do that may possibly help me. I said to her, “This is it. I can not do this anymore. Each time I drive down McDowell Road, whether I’m coming here or not, tears flood my face. I have anxiety attacks. I am not doing this anymore.” She held my hand as I cried for - at the very least - 30 minutes. I think she almost cried with me. She was honest, “I can’t promise this will work. But it’s worth a try. I know y’all want to have a baby. Let’s see what happens.”

We made an appointment for a minor surgery. Brad and I promised to not think about it again. In December of that year, he proposed to me. I accepted and we began planning a wedding for October of the next year. By July, we were pregnant. Of course, we weren’t out of the water yet because I had a history of ectopic pregnancies so my doctor very emphatically suggested that we wait before spreading the news. Three months later when all was clear, we knew it was real and we were ecstatic.

When my sweet Bralynn Jamila reaches those inevitable teenage years where she feels like I’ve done her no favors by bringing her into this world, I’ll remind her of the journey her mother went through to get her here. I’ll also make sure she understands that the Creator’s work is never in our control. It took nearly 12 years for me to get her here and it was only when the Creator was ready that my (our) prayers were answered. I recognize his plan now. I had to be mentally stable – something I wasn’t in the years that I was with my son’s father. I had to be wiser and ready to mold a child into a pattern that reflects the Creator’s Love and Goodness – something I couldn’t offer her before I met Brad. I had to be complete – something I certainly didn’t own until we became husband and wife. Most of all I had to appreciate the Creator’s time and respect his will – something I’ve struggled with my entire life.

Seeing my daughter’s illuminating and contagious smile reminds me several times a day just how wonderful the Creator has been to us. I am in constant submission to his will and his way. I never have to doubt anymore if He hears and/or answers prayers. I never have to doubt if He knows what’s best. I certainly never have to question if the Creator is always on time. 

I am a living testimony that He may not come when you want Him, but He’s right on time.

I’ve pretty much been a sap most of my life. Most things that trigger emotion lead me directly to tears. I have learned to embrace my emotion and to just let the tears do what they choose to. This morning was no different.

I woke from my slumber a bit earlier than usual. Not only did it shock me, but it even shocked my husband (and daughter). “Why are you up?” he asked. I responded, “Well, you’re going out of town today and I just wanted to be up with you.” While I was saying that something in my soul was telling me that there was more to the reason I was so wide awake and so focused on him than any regular morning.

It wasn’t until after my first break at work that I realized I was falling into an emotional cocoon for no apparent reason.  Didn't take much longer before I realized why I had been so moved to surround myself with my husband today. Today is his mother’s birthday. It has always been really cute that his birthday was the day after hers. I thought it was an extremely terrible time for her being in the hospital pushing out a child the day after her birthday. She often made jokes about how much like her he is and not only was it genetic but also because they shared a birthday month (and week).

Mrs. Franklin transitioned in 2008 and I don’t think his birthday has really been the same. I know he’s strong and I know he understands life and death, but for his entire life this has been something that I believe he was proud of – having that link of back to back birthdates with his mom. So, I think that this morning, our connection pushed my body to get up and make myself available for him - just in case it was hard for him. I didn’t know it then, but it was my way of being there for him if he needed me. He was fine. 

As I sit here now with my face drenched with tears and my heart literally pleading for some relief from this really uncomfortable hurt I’m feeling, I can not help but to be just a little bit selfish. I really miss her. She was one of those people that you know you will never meet another one like her. I ache because of that. She was stern and funny. She was one of the smartest women I’ve ever met in my life. I quickly grew attached to her. Although, it was months into our relationship before I even met his family. When I did, she just acted like I’d been there the whole time. I felt like I was a part of the family immediately but I also knew that if she didn’t accept me none of the family would. She was the boss! She was in full control and I loved her instantly. 

I hate to talk about what it does to me when I think about her because I keep telling myself that it isn’t about me. It’s about my husband and his family. That’s what’s important. But doing that keeps me from having anyone to really talk to about how much I miss her and how much I am hurting from her not being here for holidays; for our wedding day; and for the birth of our child.  It stings my heart that I can still hear her saying, “Funmi, you really need to come over here. You don’t have to wait on Brad!” 

Well, today, I have decided that I will use this blog as a way for me to get this out of me for the first time. 

***************************************************************************************************************************

Mary Franklin, 

I know how much you hate the mushy stuff.  But I can go no longer with this pain.  I know there will never be a full relief, but I'm hoping that writing to you will at least get me on the right road.  I have taught myself to put my feelings aside so that I can be there for Brandi, Julian and Brad if they need me, but I have come to realize that I have just not been dealing with the hurt and the pain that I feel from missing you.  I miss you terribly. I see how much your son misses you. I wipe his tears and I want to make it stop when he’s hurting, but I hurt too. 

I am so thankful for the time that I was able to spend with you.  You gave me the "clues" I needed on how to handle your son.  You told me things that I doubt he knows you shared with me.  :-)  You even listened to me complain from time to time when I didn't understand him - it's not easy at first.  You laughed and you fussed, but you understood. You asked for my advice about things and I know that you respected me as a woman. You trusted me to take care of your son and I appreciate you allowing me to step into your family and into your heart. You were more than a mother. You were truly a friend – a well spoken, well versed – friend.

My soul is saddened by the thought that you didn’t get to see your first child get married or meet Bralynn while in your earthly form. I know you’re with us all the time. It’s probably your spirit that takes over her when she calls herself yelling at us to do something (without even being able to speak yet). But I would have loved for her to be around you. I would love for her to have had the opportunity of your influence. I’m sure you’d have her reading world affairs by the time she was five. I am sad to have to miss that. But I am eternally grateful that so much of you lives on in your children and grandchildren.  They are all very much like you!

Rest assured that I keep you with me. I often tickle myself at the thought that maybe you and my daddy are together watching over us and probably disagreeing often.  With both of you being so vocal and opinionated and outspoken, I can just about imagine what a conversation would be like with the two of you.  When Brad and I were coming up with a name for Bralynn, I think I could even hear the both of you toiling over it. Naming children was important to both of you. So to compromise, we kept your “BJF” theme and we gave her an African middle name as I know my father would have wanted. I hope you are both pleased.

I could not possibly love your son any more than I do today, but I look forward to falling more and more in love over the years to come. I know, I know, he is a handful. But I can handle him. You know that!   You have done a magnificent job with him.  He is a wonderful father and a great husband.  I really don't know how I ended up so blessed to have him take me as his life's partner, but I am thankful.  Be proud.  We’re doing just great. Don’t you worry about the two of us, just continue to nudge us when we look like were heading in the wrong direction.

I will remember you forever and admire you even longer than that. You are a true Queen who I am honored to have as a mother-in-law. I only pray that I can contribute to the world as you have.  By the way, the girls from your drill team captain days and your students, continue to reach out to us.  If only you knew how many lives you touched (and changed).  We honor you and your life's work.  You've done GREAT! 

Happy Birthday! Love you forever!

Your daughter-in-law,

~F. Franklin~ 

During the ages of 13 and 17 I was a very angry child. I spent most of my time trying to make other people’s lives as miserable as I thought mine was. Looking back now, of course, I realize I had very little to be angry about. Then it was overwhelming to have just lost my dad to Cancer right after he had given his life to God to become a Methodist preacher.  I had been forced to move back to Mississippi from New York where I thought I had found myself.  I was then expected to go to a predominately white school and get a long with rich white kids looking down their noses at me. I was suppose to respect white teachers who didn’t care to educate me on real stuff, like how to get rich and/or how to live as a strong black woman.  Not to mention that my "friends" didn’t remain loyal from one day to the next.

So I turned to everything -as a mother- I’d hate for my little girl to go through. I turned to gangs for security and love. I turned to boys for attention. I turned to misbehavior for something to do. I did all of this in the spirit of rebellion. I was made at God for taking my daddy from me. I was angry with my mother for moving back to Mississippi after I had learned how to live in New York. I was angry with the white girls in the hallways who always had something to smile about. I was angry with my sisters and brothers for not being angry with me. 

Simply, I was just angry with life.

Eventually I learned that the best way to make myself feel better was to lend some of my agony to others. Who better to do that to than the white girls who were always happy and who already feared me by the clothes I wore and the way I talked to the teachers, plus, I was simply a delinquent. I spent many hours in detention. I had teachers tell me they were concerned when I didn’t have detention. I started bullying the girls who had lockers beside mine. I’d make their lives miserable.   They’d hate to see me coming. It made me feel magnificent to have that amount of power over a white girl who I had always perceived as being perfect and having a perfect existence. I didn’t want to have any white friends. I didn’t want to understand their issues. I didn’t care. All I wanted was to make them afraid to be anywhere near me. I wanted their locker space and I wanted them to give me a reason to fight them so that I could be suspended. I wanted to go home and give my mother a reason to be a parent to me. I needed a reason for her to take two seconds away from her busy day to concentrate on me. 

That really didn’t work. 

After about the third suspension my mother gave me over to God. She began to talk to the Assistant Principal who started watching me closely.   Seemed like everywhere I turned there was Mr. Burchfield. He was a rather handsome white man too. Mr. Burchfield told me one day after I was in trouble for letting my boyfriend use my lunch card, because I was on free lunch and he wasn’t, “You are worrying your mother to death. Why are you getting into so much trouble? Why do you come to school just to get into trouble?” I immediately thought, "This man thinks he's scaring me. Well he isn’t. I don’t care about what he saying to me. Who does he think he is?"

I went home to tell my mother that I was suspended -- yet again. Before I could even tell her why, she began to weep. She said many things to me on that couch that day through all those tears. But there is only one thing that I can still hear clearly, “Funmi, what am I suppose to do with you. You know if your father was here you would not be acting like this.” She was absolutely right. Of course I wouldn’t be acting like this. 

Thankfully by senior year, I had straightened up a bit. I was able to save my grades and stopped getting into (as much) trouble at school. I was also able to mend relationships with some of the girls by my locker. They never became friends of mine, but I did ask them for forgiveness and they welcomed the opportunity to forgive me. 

It was just that easy.

Parents today must understand that if their child is being bullied at school or if the child is being a bully, there is a reason. Sure kids will be kids.  But there is a reason for everything.  Something is happening. Don't wait until your child has been pushed so far that they try to take a weapon to school to protect themselves from the person who has been taunting them or pushing/shoving them; making their lives hell.  Don't wait until your child has pushed some kid into the concrete wall and the child ends up busting his head open and needing stitches.  That's a criminal offense and your child will be headed straight to a detention center.  Do you want that for your child?  Are you one who'd rather pull the wool over your eyes and proclaim, "Not my child"?  Yes, it can be your child and if you don't pay close attention, it will be your child.   

One thing I learned through this journey is that every child needs attention from their parent and will do whatever they think is needed to get it. For some it’s getting perfect grades and excelling in school. For others it’s doing well in daddy’s favorite sport. Then some, who don’t necessarily thrive in school or sports, get into trouble to grab a bit of attention. Don’t get so involved in your life, your job, your relationship, that you let your child get away from you. I was well on my way to thug-dom in a very short period of time – about two years exactly. Because I was angry and my mother was no longer a stay-at-home mom like she had been most of my life up to my father’s death. She had to start working full time to take care of us. I didn’t understand not being watched all the time; made no sense to me. I took that as free reign to do whatever I wanted to do. I had been kept under such strict rules prior to my father’s transition, that now, I felt fancy free and foot loose. The freedom coupled with the anger caused me to change drastically mentally and emotionally. 

Something as small as moving to another school can shake up your child’s entire existence. Watch your child carefully. Notice when the headaches become more frequent, or when homework takes longer than usual to get done, or cries to miss school come more often, or a sudden interest in mature entertainment occurs, etc. Children are not always going to run to their mother or father to tell them what’s happening to them at school. Chances are they don’t think you understand. They don’t know that you once did what they’re doing. They think they’re smarter than you are and you are old and out of touch with life. You are the first line of defense in keeping your child from being hurt or hurting someone. My mother went to the Assistant Principal and asked him to help her. That may not be as easy to accomplish these days, but there are other ways to get help for your child. Just pay attention to the warning signs and be attentive to your child. Your baby only gets two parents; one mommy and one daddy. Be a parent!