Tag Archives: life lessons

Happy 60th Birthday Mom!

Today, I just want to wish my mother a very happy and joyful milestone birthday. How I wish things were different between us. How I wish that I had enough balls to put aside my childish emotional grudges and go to her as my heart so desires. Yes I know I could easily change the situation. I’m grown enough to admit that. I’m grown enough to know that I need to let go of the past and forgive her and the rest of the family for everything said, done and not done the year my daughter was born. I know this.

But it’s hard. It’s sooooo incredibly hard to distinguish between doing what’s right and the emotions that have been with me for more than fourteen years. It’s hard to fight back the tears that burn down my cheeks when I think too much about my mother, my daughter and my mother’s family. It’s hard not hearing my mother’s voice on days like this when my heart is so full and heavy. It’s hard to distinguish between my childish heart and my adult mind.

I love my mother. Despite everything I’ve been through with my mother and her family, I love her to infinity and beyond. Boo doesn’t understand how I can still feel this way or how I can forgive them [my family] so easily. But what Boo doesn’t understand is that it hasn’t been easy to forgive. It isn’t easy to look at pictures of my mother and not cry or get angry or want to hurl objects around the room. The majority of the emotional roller coaster that is my heart stems from my family. It stems from not being able to speak my mind and be the strong outspoken LOUD woman I know myself to be today.

It. Ain’t. Easy. Yo!

The way I talk to you guys thanks for always listening btw is not how I talk to my family. I’m not The Southern Yankee, Lady Deathstrike, Angry Black Girl, or even my government name. I’m just a timid and quiet only child in a family full of adults.

Sigh… One day right?!

If you ever read this mommy, I love you! I love you so very much words cannot even describe. Yes I know we have our differences and yes we often have not seen eye to eye on almost everything. But you are my mom and my dad. You raised me by yourself and somehow made things happen when I’m sure you thought you couldn’t. Happy happy happy happy birthday! I hope this birthday and every other birthday brings you so much joy and laughter. That you are in good health and that God has blessed you beyond your years of life! ❤ your daughter

Thanks for reading…

The Southern Yankee

Compromised

I don’t live in the best of locations. When I originally moved to where I am living now, there weren’t that many people living down our street. Over the years, the “neighborhood” has grown a little bit.

There are some ratchet as kids who in summer would run up and down the street without parental supervision. Every time I’d see them, I wanted to whoop that ass for playing in the street that at any given time has a dumb fuck driving faster than 20 mph.

At one point, there were a pair of shoes hanging on the electrical lines at the beginning of the neighborhood street. Lawd only knows how they got up there or who the fuck threw them up there but they’re no longer there which is good if the theory about hanging shoes on power lines is indeed true.

The worst part of my neighborhood is that there are ALWAYS random ass vehicles driving up and down the road at all hours of the day and night. Normally, I wouldn’t care who drives up and down the street. The vehicles don’t belong to anyone I know personally and no one I care to know personally. What makes me suspicious is the fact that seven out of ten times one of these vehicles will creep ever so slowly by my house and boo’s brother’s house next door. As if the drivers and/or passengers are casing our shit.

To make matters worse, boo’s sister in law’s vehicle was broken into a few weeks ago. I wanna say the robbery occurred either the week before or the week after Halloween. I should mention that boo’s brother and his wife are a pair of stupid asses because not only was the vehicle unlocked but they haphazardly left bank cards, social security cards, and other important personal information in the vehicle. Class A stupid huh? Yeah I thought so too. Yes, when we first moved to our house, we could leave the front door and the vehicles unlocked and no one would mess with us. Now… Now I don’t even trust leaving my truck open for five minutes after getting home.

This is no way to live folks. We should be able to peacefully and safely live our lives without feeling scared to sleep too long. Without thinking what are the dogs barking at so ferociously. Without feeling that someone is going to come outta no fucking where and bum rush you faster than JJ Watt and Brian Cushing. Go Texans!

Sigh i just pray the “neighborhood” doesn’t completely go to shit for my nephews and their soon to be born baby sister’s sake.

 

Thanks for reading…

 

The Southern Yankee

Dr. Seuss for the Soul

I’m a HUGE fan of everything Dr. Seuss. I even have a Cat in the Hat metal lunchbox. don’t judge me it’s the shizzle!

Anyway. I really don’t have a lot to say today, even though I started three (including this one) posts today. Guess which post is getting published?!?!

graphic taken from Pinterest

You’re off to Great places! Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting, so… Get on your way!!  – Dr. Seuss – 

Thanks for reading…

 

The Southern Yankee

Uncle Bigfoot and I

My heart is heavy.

Two weeks ago today, I received an email from my mother saying that my Uncle Bigfoot dude he has massive feet was admitted into the VA Hospital in Houston. She said his blood pressure was over 200 and heart rate was in the hundreds. I wanted to cry because Uncle Bigfoot was more like my older brother than my uncle. we’re literally twelve years and months apart

When my mother and I moved to Texas in 1981, my uncle was fifteen years old and a freshman in high school. We moved into my grandparents house into the small room across the hall from his room where we stayed until I was ten which was around 1988. By 1988, my uncle graduated high school, I started school and he joined the service. Now if I remember right, he joined the U.S. Air Force after Laine (my aunt and mother’s first sister) and Uncle Mike got married in ’86. Or did he just come home for the wedding. I don’t remember much of the eighties.

Either which way, I remember asking to listen the music he liked because “someone had to listen to his music while he was gone.” That’s when I discovered Aretha Franklin the R&B singer, Patti LaBelle, the Gap Band, Kool and the Gang, and The Time. so old skool

I can’t remember when or how old I was when he came back from the service, but it must have been before Papa got sick. I’ve blocked a large part of my life in Podunkville USA out of my mind. When Papa passed away in 1991, everything changed between everyone including between my uncle and I.

During my high school years, my uncle started cooking more. When I say that man can cook the hell out of anything it’s a great understatement. Uncle Bigfoot, Laine and the old battle axe (grandmother) are the main reasons I love food and to cook so much. Uncle Bigfoot is partly responsible for my #phatgurlworldproblems with cheesecake. Have you ever had cheesecake that closely resembles ice cream?

Imagine a thick heavy cheesecake topped with blueberries and frozen to just the right texture and consistency. Did I mention every inch of these 12″ in diameter cheesecakes is homemade from scratch? No? Are you imagining it now? Ain’t it goooood?

¡Ay Dios mío! ¡’tan muy delicioso y riquísimo!!!

Oh sorry. I can smell the graham cracker crust baking in the oven.

Must.

Stop.

Now.

UGH!

——

Fast forward to my sophomore year of Baylor when I became pregnant by my then boyfriend. I remember everyone being so very disappointed in me, especially my uncle. Again, we were more like brother and sister than uncle and niece. But when the news spread about me being pregnant while at a very Southern Baptist school, he became my uncle. No longer did it feel like he was my Mel’s Diner and I was his Ursula which hurt more than anything.

When baby girl was born, my relationship with everyone in my mother’s family became volatile and beyond emotional. Some time after she was born, Uncle Bigfoot was diagnosed with prostate cancer. My heart was broken because even though it wasn’t the same cancer that took Papa away from me, I thought the worst. He didn’t attend my mother and step dad’s wedding. He was too sick. I remember visiting him in the hospital and once at home.

When I graduated from Baylor, I didn’t tell anyone in my mother’s family. The only family I told were my sisters and Granny. Long story short, we just weren’t seeing eye to eye. In fact, shortly after graduation, I stopped talking and visiting my mother’s family. It wasn’t a healthy environment for anyone and I had to protect baby girl from the drama that was guaranteed to ensue if I stuck around.

That was in late 2002 early 2003.

——

It’s been at least eleven years since I’ve heard my uncle’s voice. Fifteen or sixteen years since we got into our usual Ursula/Mel’s Diner argument. Too long since I actually had a decent conversation with anyone in my family.

Too long…. Since we actually acted like a family. Too long since a decent thanksgiving or Christmas.

Perhaps it’s been long enough…

We shall see..

Thanks for reading…

The Southern Yankee