Isn’t it funny?

Isn’t it funny how you have so much to say, but then when you go to write you can’t think of a thing.  I had all this stuff I wanted to write about, things that were going through my mind.  Some interesting, some not so much, but I slept — now I don’t remember .  

“You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.”  Dr. Suess.

I didn’t want last night to end.  I didn’t go to sleep until around 4am, but it didn’t matter, because I was happy.  How can something so simple, become something so complicated? 

On my last entry I talked about going to the movies with Kevin to see 42.  It was about the first black baseball player to play with a white team.  It was a great story.  But, how awkward to go out with a friend for the first time on a date to a black/white movie, when I am white and he is black.  It was about the racial controversy.  I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking sitting next to me.  As it is men and women they look at things so differently.  I watched the movie in awe, with tears filling in my eyes at the courage of this young man, and his amazing coach.  I am sure Kevin was thinking of the strength this young man had to go through all he had too.   Kevin seems to be as strong to me, but was he wondering if he would have reacted the same?  

I have never wanted to be in a relationship that would tear up a family; mine or theirs.  I wish it was easy to make everyone happy.  I was raised that there were races (black, white, mexican, indian, etc.).  I was raised that races should not mix or mingle.  However, in high school I met my best friend Nehemiah "Popcorn" McCain.  He wanted to date me.  He begged me at times.  I always wonder what my life would be like had I said yes.  He is the only person that has ever made me feel as good about myself as he did.  He loved me for me, not for who he could make me.  I wonder if he ever thought of me.  He asked me one night, standing in front of the pizza place he worked, to marry him.  Maybe he was joking, maybe not.  I told him, being as honest as I could, I could not marry him, because my parents did not believe in mixed race.  I then ran into him at a bowling alley where he asked me one more time.  I told him I was pregnant with Tiffany (my first child).  He never spoke to me again after that.  He told me it was a big mistake.  He would have made me happier than anyone.  He would have given me a beautiful mixed child.  I know he would have as well.  What I didn’t know until 2010, which I will get to in a minute, was that he already had a daughter when he asked me to marry him.  He didn’t tell me he had someone else as well, yet, he stopped talking to me, because I moved on.  It didn’t change that I loved him.  It was one of two of the biggest regrets in my life.  When we graduated, before the proposals, I invited him to my graduation party.  I promised my parents that he would make everyone there laugh, smile, be happy.  That is exactly what he did.  I got a picture of him with everyone in my family.  He lifted my aunt up, don’t remember why.  She was laughing so hard.  My parents have friends that are other races, they just don’t believe in dating.  In any case, I located Popcorn in October of 2010.  I wrote him a letter telling him all things I kept bottled up.  A week later his girlfriend murdered him.  I was told by his family that it wasn’t the letter, that I didn’t cause the problems.  I am sure there were other things that had happened, but was I the final straw.  Sometimes I act without thinking, and I knew he wasn’t married, but didn’t think about him having a girlfriend.  Did he know how I felt?  Did he care?  Did he ever think of me?

I remember my grandfather always saying "That Nigga"  He was babysitting once when my parents went to Jamaica for their anniversary and I ran away, because I was so upset with him.  I thought my parents would be mad, but my dad stood firm on my side.  He told my grandfather to stop using that word in front of me or stay away.  It was the first real time I remember my father standing on my side.  Not that he didn’t before, it is just a memorable moment.  Then my dad told me to go home (he knew where I was). 

You know in a span of time 50 years isn’t that much.  Too go from blacks not being able to use our restrooms to black and white people dating and marrying each other is a lot.  Whatever black and white person stood up for that at any given time is a hero in my book.  Some of the best people I know are black.

I am confused about where I stand with Kevin.  Maybe it is my own insecurity getting in the way, or the fact that I have been single for so long, but I enjoy his company and hope to spend many more days beside him.  I would love for him to go to Texas with me for Vanessa’s graduation, and I think he wants to go, but…

I didn’t tell him that the part of Texas I am from still sees color.  In the small town blacks live on one side, whites on the other.  Black people do not like white people going to their church, but white people welcome the blacks.  It is weird.  If you went into Dallas I am certain things are different.  Am I afraid of what everyone would say, no, definitely not.  I like him enough that I would stand beside him.  Does he like me enough to put up with that?  He shouldn’t have too. 

I don’t have any food in my house.  Literally, the only meat we had was chicken thighs.  I cooked them tonight, but it was too late to eat, so I put one in Alexandra’s lunch box, and stuck the rest in the refrigerator until tomorrow.  It was a recipe I got off of facebook.  Man, some of those recipes are good.  Our milk is sour, we are out of eggs.  My freezer has ice pops only in it, my refrigerator has some strawberries and blueberries that are starting to go bad, because I never made the recipe.  There is a couple swallows left of a two liter bottle of coke that my friend brought over.  We have hot drinks that go with the Kuerig, but I am not much of a hot drink type of person, and a nice glass of ice water would be good.  My pantry has a couple of cans of beans, mashed potatoes in a box, rice, and ramen noodles.  So, I guess we don’t have to starve, but seriously, that is it.  That is all we have. 

I don’t have any money to buy food.  I wasn’t spending the little bit I got on my check in case we ran into this situation, but … I got a call from Time Warner saying that my internet, phone, and ca

ble were being shut off.  I ended up having to pay it. 

It is so hard being single.  It just is.  It is a struggle for families with two incomes.  Here I am trying to keep the girls and my son in the best part of town, with good schools, and a bus to ride.  My apartment is not cheap.  It is $900 a month.  That is more expensive then I was paying for the five bedroom home with land, and a barn in Texas.  However, let me say, I do so love living in this two bedroom apartment, with less space, and close to everything. 

I get money from different sources, and usually I am good at keeping things paid, and having enough to live off of.  However, lately, things have been different.  My oldest daughter Tiffany messages me with her phone bill, telling me she is adding it to my tab.  She is 20 now, has a job, etc.  I am trying to help her, but I don’t know how long I can.  Then my next oldest daughter in Leonard, wants a prom dress, wants me to pay for her prom, needs to get her hair and nails done.  She wants me to spend over $1000 on her prom.  Today she said she wouldn’t go.  I don’t think she should not go, just that maybe she doesn’t need a dress for $400, or to have her hair done fancy when she is great at being beautiful on her own.  I know this is her final dance, and she will remember it, but it is not all about what she looks like, but the time she has while there.  I paid for Tiffany to get her hair done, and she didn’t like it.  I got Tiffany the biggest fullest, most expensive dress.  She was beautiful, but so was everyone else.  I don’t want Vanessa to think she isn’t as important to me.  She is.  I just don’t have that kind of money.  

Then Vanessa is graduating, she needs a white dress for that.  She wants to invite people/friends, from all over, and wants me to host a party for her.  She has given me a list of recipes, etc. etc.  I finally had to tell her that Whitney and I are hosting the party, we will cook something amazing, but not difficult.   I still have to order her invites, but I am getting them online for a much better price from vistaprint.com.  Vanessa and I created them together. 

Let’s not forget I have to drive to Texas 18 hours away.  The gas is incredibly high.  I am going to rent a car, because here you don’t have to have an emissions test, or inspection.  In Texas you do.  I have not changed to Ohio plates yet, and do not want to have my car impounded, because the registration and inspection for Texas are out since December.  

I went to the doctor again.  I can’t help but be warn down, sad.  How many times can you hear, "you are going to die" before you can no longer hold your head up and say, "I am going to beat this."  Who the heck do they (the doctors) think they are?  They are not God.  They cannot make this decision.  This is my body, my life.  This illness does not define me.  It does not own me. 

The paper says, " Based on the maximal oxygen uptake in the range of 15.0-20.0 ml/kg/min, the subject can carry out only light physical activity.  The V02 was consistent with Class C cardiac failure (10.0 to 16.0 ml./kg/min) as defined by Weber et al."

I have a cat scan tomorrow morning at 9am.  Then on Wednesday I have a cardiologist appointment at 9am.  Why? because the last two cardiologists diagnosed me in diastolic heart failure was told I needed to be on the heart transplant list, then was told the oncologist needed to figure out her plan first, so I quit going.

Yesterday, I walked the nature trails with Whitney and Alexandra; so much fun!  had an awesome night, felt great.  Today, I have been sick.  I just need someone to help take my mind off of it once in a blue moon.

Kevin is 52.  He keeps saying that he is healthy, has a body like a 21-year-old.  I don’t imagine I could keep up.  I want too.  I hate being sick all the time.  It just makes me very sad.  

I work 1-10 tomorrow, I have an appointment Wednesday morning, then I am going to see if I can work Wednesday even though I am off that day.  I was given 8-5 for the next two weeks.  I am super excited about that.  In any case, I should go.  Maybe I will think of something brilliant to say next time I write.

This is way longer than it was meant to be.