04 Jul 2008 |
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 I’m beginning to think I’m alone again…..otherwise, how can anyone love so much…..I love everything……[I’m not perfect but my heart bleeds easily….. my eyes get misty when I see lovers, wrinkly babies, children with their helmets vigorously weaving bikes in their lane much to the consternation of passers-by, young adults at graduation doing us proud, the tired Mom waiting for her bus, the dad struggling to manage two kids at the store, the elderly trying to cross the street, the blind walking with their wielding stick…even listening to the unrepentant petulance of a defiant client (usually because of the fear of losing control)]….everything…..I can hear my heart beating…racing and then really slowing down…Rather than explode, I’m going to exhale…...I have to share my thoughts again as I listened this morning….It all started last evening when I was working out with Keke at her gym. Keke and I have come a long way… We were introduced by Sister Bee 3 yrs ago. On this particular Sunday, I had gone to my cousin’s church because I thought it mimicked the type of uplifting church I’d belonged to in D.C. I’d noticed her at the opposite end of the church, hands in the air, crying and praising God at the same time. My heart bled as I looked, shook my head and imagined her cross…..don’t we all have them….. The praise and worship had been so powerful that I found myself totally surrendering yet once again to my Maker…I fell on my knees, and I felt the spirit overpower and throw me any which way IT wanted. It all flooded back….reflections of my life and what I was doing in this town. I just had to surrender….. I had run away from the stressors of a failed relationship to protect my loved one. Prior to that, I’d totally shut down for 5 yrs and when I resurfaced, the tolls of stress had overtaken my poor gut during year 3. I was like the woman with the issue of blood…..If not for God, my faith, my mother’s unrelenting love, and the fear that I would not be here to raise my daughter, I know I wouldn’t have made it this far….. It was the best decision I think I’ve ever made subconsciously. I left it all and relocated. And I was blessed. Everything went well. It was like the Midas touch, thank you, Jesus…. Most importantly, I had my brother, his family and childhood friends to guide and support me through my tribulation. A few months short of 5 years went by and he never came to see us, not even once. Instead, I had PI’s following me around. I was like a prisoner even in my home. I endured it all. I forgave and continued with my life as best I could. I’d like to talk about poetic justice, but not today… I’m still praying for them. Several times, I’d been unable to love in a relationship. Some of the nicest people in the world wanted to go out with me, but for some reason or the other, I would sabotage anything that would even remotely create intimacy. The first cut was/will always be the deepest cut….  …… My friends have dragged me to parties and events everywhere…name it…from Chevy Chase to VI to the UN. I’m usually the invisible woman sitting in a corner. I would just sit, socialize, and leave. I vividly recollect once when someone introduced me to the legendary Percy Sutton….he said he liked my accent and voice, and he had asked me to call when I became ready to return to broadcasting or anything along those lines…. Hmmmmm…. Many opportunities I had squandered….. But, today, I’m really happy inside. I’m comfortable with the person my tragedies have transformed of me. I never want to forget. I always pray to be humble. I’m not sure there is anything I’d want to change in my life… I wouldn’t risk not having my daughter. This, is just my cross. After all, every important crossroad in my life has always been preceded by a revelation in a dream, and as usual, He tells me that I will not be alone. God has not failed me yet, and I know He won’t…. [ I want to share the story of Misi’s birth, but let me leave that for another day]. Again, I ask, what is the value of life? What is the value of friendship? These are some of the mysteries I dream about. So, when I had that dream or revelation again, 3 yrs ago….I dis-regarded it. I waived it off as my mind playing games on me. It didn’t stop. I’ve always known it’s best to raise children especially girls with their dads. For that reason, I’d endured a lot until I couldn’t, hence, I ran as fast as my feet would take me, and sacrificed all for my gift. My gift of life and love. I’ll tell you about her one day, soon. Oh, my love for children, if I could have a houseful of them….. My daughter had begun to ask for her dad. I was running out of excuses…. I had every reason to hesitate. I was becoming very settled. I loved our new house. I’d done a lot with real oak/marble downstairs…my kitchen was porcelain tiled with white and platinum accessories just the way I like a kitchen. Bathrooms, upstairs & downstairs, all marble. Hand made furniture, the works, some contemporary, some traditional, just the way I like them. I mean I just loved coming home…I had found peace again. To say it was hard to give it all up is really an understatement. But, I had to heed the voice of The One. How about my good job, I asked? [I Will Make A Way, Try Me.] I believe I heard. I’d almost forgotten about my dream when I received an email requesting an updated copy of my resume from someone in California. I was cracking up at my desk in the basement. If I wasn’t alone, someone might have thought I was losing it… Why? It was a Nigerian name. To say I didn’t think it might have been 419 would be a lie grande. A week later, I received another. This time, I called the number attached. It was one of the most humble, professional and friendly voices I’d ever heard in my life. As you probably suspect, I’m very close to him and his family now. I succumbed. I sent the resume. A day later, during hands-off, my director/chief came to our office. He looked at me hard and long. He remained standing in the doorway. He sighed hard. At first, I thought I had over Rx’ed an Insulin protocol and killed somebody. He slowly came over to my desk, sat on the edge…. For a man that has once too many times told me he’s a Red Neck, his face was redder than a fulminating butterfly rash….. He breathed hard. His eyes were misty. I looked down at my keyboard; my hands were crossed on my thighs. I, too, breathed hard. “I don’t want to lose you…. Do you have to go?” He said, gently. “Is there anything I can do to change your mind”. (I swallowed the little saliva that may have pocketed in my dry mouth….talk about a fight or flight response!). “Did someone offend you? You’re the only one who truly understands the rudiments of race in a place like this, especially, being my favorite person of color on this team.” Was he patronizing or what? “The clients love you. I love your work! I like your person. If I wasn’t married I’d be………..” I chuckled, rolled my eyes around their sockets, and sighed, twisting my lips to the left, more from relief and a little embarrassment  .Oh God, I muttered, what have I done?? “This is the greatest institution you’ll ever know. Please don’t leave. If you need time off, I’ll give it to you, you know that.” All I could do was stare at him with a restrained smile. My tongue suddenly untied, and I responded. I just think it’s time for me to move on. (Pretty big risk I took not knowing whether or not I would get the job, but my faith was in control.) But I’m not sure yet. Please give me some time. I’ll keep you posted, I concluded. Two weeks later, I was on a company sponsored flight, all expenses paid to an interview in northern Cal. The next morning, I got up early, prayed, listened to CNN and had some breakfast. I showered, and decided to wear a black pin-stripped Ellen Tracy skirt suit, white shirt, silver cuff links, a watch, pearl studs, a simple diamond ring, and a pair of opened toe- silver engraved- 1.5 in-heel- black strappy pair of Ferragamos. The audacity of opened toe shoes to an interview….not to worry… freshly pedicured NM red colored toe nails looked great. Why did I bother sef?? On the 12-Panel board of interviewers were 2 of my friends. Are you guys following this….HE was already there before me. My friends half screamed….they stood up, ran to me, hugged, pecked, and shook my hands vigorously…. “I knew it could be only one Ayo, so good to see you, welcome back”, said Brenda. I smiled, said my hellos and sat at the high chair offered at the far end of the gigantic lacquered oval table. The room was cool and quiet. I knew I’d captured my audience. No preparation, no cue cards, nothing. Every word out of my mouth rolled like part of a rehearsed script. God is always sooo good….. All you have to do is ask and listen…. He will intercede on your behalf. It was more like a party than an interview, I concluded, as I drove back to my hotel praising until my cell phone ringing cut through my thoughts. “Hi….(it was the regional Administrator). You know we want you here. How do we negotiate? How much do you need for relocation?” I couldn’t get a word in. Finally, I graciously requested time to consider the offers. She was not going to take no for an answer. She requested that I start within 2 months, and also, to take my much needed month long vacation, for which she also offered to add as a bonus. The rest, as they say, is history….It’s been a great ride. Chi…Chi… I yelled into my long-time buddy’s voicemail. Please call me back. I need to sell my house, pronto. Within five minutes, he’d called back, saying “You this girl, you must be crazy (and swore in his favorite Igbo words that I don’t recall verbatim. He’s family. We all grew up together.) Why do you want to go back there? You don’t have anybody there! Why do you want to suffer?” Ch…Chi…you don’t understand. I’m supposed to go for Misi’s sake, I reiterated. Reluctantly, Chi placed my house on the market the next day; and it sold in just one day to the first couple at a 33% net profit. This God that I know is Marvelous. You know, some people understand why they are here, their mission, right from the get go, and the rest of us become enlightened as we go along…. As my elder sister once said, you’re such a late bloomer…..  …. She was right. What can I say; God is not done with me yet…Hmmmm…… Keke is one of my friends in this part of the world. Her story is quite similar, yet uniquely hers. She is a very smart woman. Energetic, savvy and sound with her Pear-shaped figure. At 5’ 7”, you’d think she was 4 inches taller, never to be caught in anything flat. Most importantly, she is downright kind!! Where do you find people like this? I have become familiar with her rattling knock on my front door. Since we met, she has been my Angel. She has always been there. She would connect with me, regardless of where we were, if we had not spoken in 2 days. She would leave work to get my grocery when I had knee surgery from a meniscus tear. She would cook and clean. She would take a vacation day or week to take the kids to school. She would return from Europe with Thomas Pink shirts. She would return from Switzerland with bales of fine voile for everyone. She would give you her eyes if you needed them to see. We have introduced good friends to each other. It was through her that I met Fifi, a Nigerian bank AGM who takes me to Ikoyi Club all the time…you know. She and Fifi had been friends since NYSC days. I’ll talk about Fifi another day. She is awesome and trustworthy. One of the few I know who would help you to buy shares, make some money for you, and worry until you get your certificates of deposit. Such good people in my life……. I had started talking about Keke before I digressed into how I got to this side of the Pacific. I promise to dedicate my next chapter to Keke. Just as an appetizer, Keke graduated from Unilag with a degree in Computer Science, relocated to the U.S. thirteen years ago with a calculative husband, who in all had spent perhaps one whole year with them in the thirteen they’ve all been here. He always had a business deal going, from Kwara to Lokoja, and Abuja, even as far as Kafanchan. Keke endured. Even when another friend warned her of some London gossip about his impending final assault, she still turned deaf ears. My poor/rich Keke. We were on the treadmill when we both finally broke down at what life had dealt us…. In spite of everything, from the loss of her much coveted marriage, and, the loss of the only one that ever truly loved her, and whose love she couldn’t reciprocate because of her status, to the excruciating loss of her self…... She is…. going to make it. She has struggled out of the depths of crippling depression to where she is today. Can you imagine that the ex sued for child support in a shared custody of their children? She has been through all kinds of harassment, to say the least.  hey? Ahhhhh….. There are men, and then, there are men. But the devil is a liar. Not lifting a finger to help her, she carries all the responsibility of a mother/father, tirelessly. She does….for her children. And God has not failed her, either… Her son just got a full scholarship to Harvard. He will be leaving in a few weeks. God is really Something…. I share this story of strong Nigerian women today because I met two more over the weekend. To be candid, when I read a bit of her life story right here on NVS, (as I have of others for whom I have developed a gentle respect…women like…..oh, I’d better not mention names. But they know who they are. Although, due to the quasi-class system on NVS, some of them never come to my write-ups or tales, and I too hesitate to thank them or make comments on their thread for fear of being told I don’t belong. I wonder if they feel the same way. But I smile and love them all the same, from a distance.) I yearned to meet her and give kudos for all she’s been through. I read her struggle, I felt her pain, and I heard her anguish. I just wanted to give words of encouragement, to break bread with her, to tell her that she mattered, to tell her NOT to give up. Not to be embittered for too long. But many didn’t get it….. Sometimes, we look out to do things for people in need of support far away…..often, we forget to look inwards into our immediate family, and family of friends. We should reach out or in and touch someone, no? I try to share words of hope and triumph at any given opportunity. What shall we gain from looking at the cup half empty? It should always be half-full especially in times of trials and tribulation. Believe….when I tell you that someone is watching……. Reach out and touch someone…….today. Thank you for your time…..I share my stories to encourage others that may have experiences such as mine…….Life is really good…Live it like you mean it! ....Musings...A Recent Adaptation from My Misty Blues...
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