My Black is NOT Cracking.

I'm not Aging. I'm appreciating in value!

Photo by the blowup on Unsplash

I just moved and I swear to you, while I may not live in this new house forever, (especially if my retired neighbors don’t stop cutting their grass daily!) all the stuff I just moved, might!  The new owners can keep this stuff or sell it! I just know one thing and that is that my ass wonโ€™t be moving it again!  Itโ€™s just too much.  Not only is it expensive to move all this crap, its stressful! Itโ€™s a ton of work.  It takes weeks to pack it, and even longer to unpack it.  My last house was about a 1/3 larger, so already there is too much stuff for a smaller home.  Add to that all of the things you no longer need, like, or want, and it is indeed time for a yard sale! 

Thereโ€™s a large unfinished space that the previous owners used for storage, and it was FULL when I looked at the house.  I thought when I saw it filled to the rafters, โ€œwho needs all this crap?โ€  It is again FULL.  A decent about of the boxes, bags and bins belong to my daughter, but way too much of it belongs to me!  Once again, I must ask the question, โ€œwho needs all this crap?โ€

The old house had a mantle and a wall unit, a sideboard, and lots of shelves that were full of knick knacks and do-dads.  This house has none of that, so there just arenโ€™t many surfaces to display my 2080 candle holders! And how many vases does one need?  I mean, opening a flower shop is not exactly on my bucket list.  


So rather than look for places to store things, itโ€™s time to edit my possessions.  Just like I write paragraph after paragraph and edit my posts, I need to do the same with all this stuff.  Just like writing, I need to go through it, look for redundancy, and eliminate the unnecessary.

Instead of just being surrounded by stuff, I need to surround myself with only the things I truly love or need.  Itโ€™s time to eliminate whatever doesnโ€™t inspire me or elicit happy thoughts.  Itโ€™s time to curate my possessions!

I read this statement in my research from Marie Kondo. โ€œCan you truthfully say that you treasure something buried so deeply in a closet or drawer that you have forgotten its existence? If things had feelings, they would certainly not be happy. Free them from the prison to which you have relegated them. Help them leave that deserted isle to which you have exiled them.โ€

Boy, if thatโ€™s true, my stuff hates me!  Some of it has been in boxes in a basement for over five years, when someone else might have appreciated or enjoyed having it on display.  Perhaps they would make someone else happy or to feel inspired.

Okay, so the idea of going through all of this crap does not sound appealing at all.  Moving is exhausting and after a month, the house is starting to feel comfortable. (Even though I do not like ANY of my old furniture and would prefer to start with a clean slate and my neighbors own too many power tools.)  No budget for that at the moment! Just the thought of tackling those boxes that have yet to be opened makes me tired!

Yup! Itโ€™s beyond time to let go of a lot of things.  And, I mean, why is that so hard for so many? (Including me!)

Do we hang on to things because of memories weโ€™ve attached to them?ย  Does holding on to all of these so-called sentimental items keep us stuck in the past? Can we truly be present in the now, if we are surrounded by so much of past life?ย Of course, there are things that we keep.ย  Maybe we pass them down to future generations because of their historical significance.ย  Things that help us to know who we are and where we came from.ย  But letโ€™s be real, we also tend to hold on to things that weigh us down emotionally as well.

There are also benefits to living with less stuff.ย  Having fewer possessions allows us more freedom.ย  We can pack up and go anywhere without imposing on friends or hiring a crew!ย ย  And quite honestly, the way things are going in this country, I need to figure out how much of this stuff I want to take with me to Tuscany!ย 

Even when I pack for a trip, I tend to over-pack.  Iโ€™m always packing for the โ€œjust in caseโ€ scenarios.  Of course, itโ€™s great to have options, but after years of traveling, I know from experience that I probably wear about half of what I pack.  Rather than sitting at the airport stressing about that bag coming off the belt, I could be chilling at the beach or the pool bar if I had packed lighter!  How much โ€œjust in caseโ€ crap is sitting in your home?


I have come to the realization that I have more clothes than some boutiques. Sometimes, itโ€™s fun to go shopping in my closet and find things with the tags on that I missed because thereโ€™s too much jammed in there.  Of course, thatโ€™s a double-edged sword.  If you donโ€™t know what you have, you probably have too much.  How much time do you waste looking for stuff?  (As if any of us has that time to waste!)

Currently, Iโ€™m about 15-20 pounds lighter than I was on June 4th and quite frankly, while I need to gain some of that weight back, (mainly muscle) I canโ€™t say Iโ€™m mad about losing a little weight. Unfortunately, Iโ€™m in a smaller size now and most of my clothes are now too big.  (Donโ€™t do that!  Iโ€™m not bragging, and I would never suggest the โ€œgriefโ€ diet to anyone!) Now, on a positive note, my having saved things that became too tight has worked out.  They fit again!  But does one really need 25 pairs of jeans?  Or sandals they havenโ€™t worn in ten years?  If your closet is just full of things that do not make you feel or look your best, it is time to get rid of them! And think about how much easier it will be to get dressed when you have less crap to weed through. (I said crap a lot in this post, didn’t I?)

Photo by Nick Monge on Unsplash

An added bonus to the closet clean out is being able to donate to those in need.  Win! Win!

I wrote a post a while back on decluttering.  There have been numerous scientific studies that have demonstrated that clutter increases our level of stress.  Less stuff.  Less stress!  We can all certainly benefit from a little less of that! Just walking into that storage room, I immediately feel a sense of being overwhelmed.  I think Iโ€™m beyond the simple decluttering process.  No, Iโ€™m afraid it is time for a power purge!  Whoโ€™s with me? (I picked that term up in my research!)

Iโ€™m very sensitive to noise these days.  I guess from all those years living in the woods and at the beach.  (You think I can use lawn mowers as an excuse in an insanity plea?) But what many fail to realize is that clutter is basically just visual noise!  Not only does all this excess stuff clutter your space, it also clutters your mind. 

And finally, the less crap you have, the easier it is to clean!  I mean, just think of all the time you spend cleaning around (because most are doing just that!) all that stuff (or money spent paying someone else to do it for you!) that you can dedicate to things you actually enjoy. 

Pay now or pay later.  But you pay!  Less stuff = More time.  More life.  Your choice.


I am desperately trying to get back to my weekly posts, but for the past few days, (actually for over a week now) I have been experiencing some chest pains. I started thinking about a post that I had written a while back on broken heart syndrome. I mean, my heart is definitely broken. Could this be whatโ€™s happening to me?  It actually frightened me to the point where on several occasions I popped a baby aspirin and started the breathing exercises I had learned supposedly immediately lower blood pressure. My daughter and my grandson need me, so I figure I need to get to the bottom of what’s going on.

I have finally resumed exercising on a more consistent basis and I’m trying to get back into the routine of walking. The other big thing that had recently been stressing me out was getting my taxes filed!  Once they were filed, there should have been some relief. Having recently moved, I was concerned that I might be missing some documents or possibly unable to locate them to get my taxes filed accurately and on time. Of course, there was also the anxiety of what that tax bill might look like which kept me up for a few weeks. But that was behind me! So, what gives?

I started contemplating what could be causing these chest pains.  It’s possible they could very well be related to either grief, stress or anxiety. I mean, I did just move, and moving is always stressful.  Throw in the fact that I purchased an over-priced money pit with numerous issues, and you definitely have a recipe for stress!


Then it hit me.  I thought about the fact that I had resumed my nightly habit of watching CNN and reading the headlines during dinner. I mean, the news has been depressing AF, and the consequences of this forthcoming election are quite scary. I realized that for the past few weeks I had been glued to the news and concerned about the potential hell that could ensue no matter what the outcome.  I think the Paul Pelosi attack pushed it over the edge.  Every time you think it cannot possibly get worse, without fail, it does!  WTF?  Even worse than the attack has been the response from the nut bags.  Scary times indeed.

Back in early spring when I was watching CNN every evening while having dinner, I quickly concluded that it was causing a great deal of stress.  I made the conscious decision to scale way back with my viewing. Quite frankly after my granddaughter’s accident I can’t say I gave a shit about anything else going on in the world. All I knew was that my world had fallen apart, so I rarely, if ever, watched the news in the months that followed.  (That is, until a few weeks ago!)

Curiosity triggered thoughts and more research about emotions and why they matter.  I was somewhat aware from prior research of how they can affect us physically and biologically. Rather than just having concern for my physical fitness, I knew I had better start paying attention to my emotional fitness as well.

As humans, itโ€™s completely natural to experience a range of emotions.  These include pain and pleasure, as well as the more unpleasant emotions such as anger, resentment, hate, worry, anxiety, and fear.  (Hmmm.  That negative emotion list is a lot longer, isnโ€™t it?) And, while it is normal to experience negative emotions on occasion, (or even daily for brief periods of time) chronically remaining in a negative emotional state, drives stress hormones into our bodies. The increase of cortisol (a stress hormone) causes inflammation to increase, while immune function decreases.  Stress can result in damage to your organs including your heart! All bad. 

So, letโ€™s examine. I have to admit, Iโ€™m stuck in the anger phase of grief.  And if Iโ€™m being honest, sometimes I feel a bit of resentment when I see folks happily stroll by me with their kids.  (Yes, Iโ€™m resuming my grief counseling which I didnโ€™t have the time or resources to continue.  Lucky for me, my therapist has offered her services for free!) Hate, an emotion that only hurts the person carrying it around was new to me until the period of 2016-2020.  Iโ€™m working on that too.  (Again, I know it only hurts the person carrying it!) Worry?  Pointless, but a habit Iโ€™ve had all my life.  My mother spent a great deal of time dealing with mental and physical illness, so I worried daily about her. I now worry about my daughter, my grandson, the country, and the planet! 

All legit! But, what is worry? Worry is me expecting a negative outcome and a really bad habit.ย  I need to shift focus and try expecting a positive outcome.ย  I worried about my granddaughter every day and it didnโ€™t change the outcome.ย  There have been times where Iโ€™ve felt that all my worrying might have actually contributed to the outcome.ย  Thoughts are things, after all.

But hereโ€™s the thing.  The stress hormones wreak havoc on our bodies.  They can down-regulate or up-regulate genes and create disease.  The release of stress hormones is a direct result of our thoughts.  Your thoughts can literally kill you!  Stress leads to distress and can be followed by chronic and life-threatening illnesses, like heart disease, stroke and even cancer and diabetes. 

On the flip side, it is also my belief and Iโ€™m sure scientific studies also exist that show that our thoughts can also heal us.  How we think creates our state of mind.  Our state of mind directly relates to the state of our bodies.  Laughter and a sense of connection, as well as the emotions of joy, love, and especially gratitude can have the opposite result. They heal.

There are scientific studies that show a decrease in inflammatory markers and benefits to our immune system, as well as anti-aging benefits, as a result of the feelings of gratitude. Despite my loss, I, like everyone else, have things they should be grateful for.  I have a wonderful daughter and grandson, family, friends, a great boss, a job, a roof, (although it leaked the first night in the house!) and teeth!

So, Iโ€™m turning off the TV and hoping for a positive outcome.  The only thing that is within my power to do, is VOTE!  Nothing on the news is going to change the way I vote.  Iโ€™ve listened to both sides and the bottom line is Iโ€™m sticking with the sane!

I encourage you all to do the same.

Photo Credits:

Photo by Markus Winkler on Unsplash

Photo by Gayatri Malhotra on Unsplash

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

Photo by Markus Winkler on Unsplash

I cannot believe that Iโ€™m almost old enough to collect social security.  How is that even possible when I was just 43 yesterday? I meant 37. I was recently reminded by that statement you receive regularly throughout your entire adult life that you mostly ignored.  (Well, I did.) The statement that told you how much could collect when you retired which always seemed lightyears away.  Considering I never planned on retiring, I really gave it zero thought.  I never intended to be in a financial position to need it! 

Yet, there I sat calculating what brand of dog food I could afford based on estimated payment.  And, by the way, I read the fine print.  (You should too!) What is said is that the current estimates are subject to change in 2034, (11+ short years from now!) at which time, based on current law, you could receive as little as $780 of every $1000 estimated today.  Basically, by the time Iโ€™m able to collect, my current estimate would only be good for about 4 years!  After that, there could be a significant reduction in my payments, at which time I might have to consider changing my dog food brand.  Hell, I better figure out how to get back to Plan A!  (You know the one where Iโ€™m not in a financial position to need it!)

But the social security I am writing about today is a totally different kind of social security.  In this post, the social Iโ€™m writing about is by definition โ€œthe seeking or enjoying the companionship of others.โ€  In other words, friendship.

So, I started thinking about friendship, and โ€œmyโ€ friends in particular.  In my attempt to get back to living, I started realizing all the folks in my life that have been noticeably silent for the past few months.  (Pretty much since the funeral on June 11th.) Immediately following the accident, some of them dropped by my daughterโ€™s house to offer a hug and their condolences.  SOME.  Others were noticeably absent

Some reached out by phone, but I had no desire to have the same conversation in heavy rotation.  To hear over and over, โ€œIโ€™m sorry for your loss.โ€ Or โ€œI cannot imagine what you must be going through.โ€  And they would be correct.  It is (NOT WAS) impossible to imagine.  If you have never experienced the loss of a child, and in such a violent and senseless manner no less, you will NEVER BE ABLE TO IMAGINE THE PAIN.  And why would you want to even try?  I wouldnโ€™t wish this on anyone.  Not even certain ex-presidents.


I let folks know via text after they would call that I really wasnโ€™t ready to talk.  Those that were there with me from day one (and pretty much daily) to witness the pain would be the only people I would talk to.  They were there with me, so there was no need to ask how I was.  They could see it with their own eyes.  NOT GOOD.  And they didnโ€™t need an invitation.  They just showed up.  My one friend drove over an hour a day, almost EVERY DAY, for weeks to be by my side.  Even when there wasnโ€™t a conversation, there were hugs.  She was present.

A few would drop text messages, asking me how I was. (Which to me was a dumbass question.) Some would make stupid comments via text like, โ€œI hope you are feeling better.โ€ Clueless to the level of pain and assuming that it magically diminishes after a few weeks.  My oldest friend said it best.  โ€œYou never get over the loss.  You never get over the pain.  You just learn to live with it.โ€  (Hopefully, it becomes less intense.  I have to believe that.)

So, my thoughts were that these folks waiting for me to โ€œget overโ€ it so they could resurface, believing that things will eventually go back to normal, would be waiting forever.  This IS the new normal.

Over the past few weeks, I took note of those people and was feeling some kinda way about them.  I had reached the point where I was all but ready to write them off.  I felt abandoned by them.  I felt as though they didnโ€™t want to deal with me and my grief, so they were waiting it out.  That didnโ€™t feel like friendship to me. If I could live without them for four months, I could probably live without them for the duration.  But thatโ€™s not true.  Friendship, as we age, plays a critical role in our well-being. Friendship provides a sense of security and improves our quality of life.

I decided that perhaps before I write them off completely, I should let them know how I was feeling about their total absence.  I needed to enlighten them.  In the process, I too was enlightened. 

I was told they were giving me space.  They interpreted my not wanting to talk as not wanting to hear from them.  They โ€œthoughtโ€ they were honoring my wishes.  They didnโ€™t know what to say.  They didnโ€™t know what to do.  If the situation were reversed, would I have known?  Probably not.  I donโ€™t do funerals (or weddings, really) and everyone that knows me, knows that.  Does that make it okay? And yet no one ever wrote me off for not showing up.

So, I listened, and I learned.  As we get older, loss will likely become a common occurrence. Loss is part of our human experience.  Grieving leads to isolation and loneliness.  Both can be physically and emotionally unhealthy.  The worst thing you can do is just leave a grieving person alone. (And that doesnโ€™t mean to beat down their door or stalk them.) Just OFFER to be there. Ask.

It is possible that we will outlive family and friends.  One of the only guarantees in life is that we will all die.  We will all lose loved ones.  (Hopefully, not at 21!)


But how do you comfort someone that is grieving a loss?  Grief can make others uncomfortable. I get it. So, what do you do?  What do you say?  You have anxiety that you will say the wrong thing.  You fear that what you say might appear insensitive. So instead, you are silent.  WRONG.

Here is my advice to you.

It has been said when you do not know what to say, say nothing.ย  But that is wrong. When you do not know what to say, say, โ€œI love you.โ€ย  It will NEVER be the wrong thing to say.

Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash
Photo by Scott Warman

I was trying to decide what my first blog post, post-tragedy, (post talking about tragedy) should be about.  I didnโ€™t want to write about whatโ€™s been on my mind, because Iโ€™m guessing Iโ€™ve depressed yaโ€™ll enough. Iโ€™m struggling, but Iโ€™m trying.  My Noodle was no quitter.  Nor am I.  (But there have been days. Trust and believe)

I had to remind myself that before I was โ€œMom Mom,โ€ I had dreams.  I had a purpose.  And I knew that purpose was to help others in some way.  That has since evolved a bit into the desire to edu-tain.  But carrying on “as if” is no easy task. I am sure it will take a minute, or possibly forever, to get back into a routine. But I present to you my first attempt.

As it turns out, I need not look any further than the table in front of me for a topic.ย  Armโ€™s reach. (Yup Wine.) And yes, Iโ€™ve been self-medicating a bit. (But this week I decided to start spending more time exercising and writing, than sipping. Even though Iโ€™m writing about sipping. Baby steps!)ย  This post combines my love of wine with my aversion to greed and the greedy!


The problem with wine, other than the fact that I drink too much of it lately, is that like everything else, some of it is just bad.  And I donโ€™t mean it tastes bad.  We all have our personal preferences.  What I mean is that some wines are basically the equivalent of junk food!  They are mass produced and full of chemical additives.

Think that youโ€™re drinking fine wine from some small quaint Napa winery?  Think again.  Huge wine conglomerates have gobbled up all the mom-and-pop wineries.  Think Amazon, only wine! Yet another example of how consolidation hurts us all.  The problem is that they can make their money on volume and sacrifice quality to do so.  And like Amazon, they can out-price the little guys or just buy them! And, to make matters worse, thereโ€™s no indication on the label your favorite vineyard has been snatched up by an Amazon-like conglomerate. 

I recall a knowledgeable woman at the wine store in PA introducing me to the Velvet Devil Merlot years back.  It was a nice merlot from Washington State.  A few months later, she let me know that if it didnโ€™t taste the same as it had in the past, it was because the vineyard was purchased by a mass producer.  She guided me to another aisle and introduced me to a different wine. Robert Hall.  Yum.


So, hereโ€™s what I have learned are some of the issues and some of the things that make many wines, junk wine.

Love that oaky taste?  I do.  It used to come from being aged in oak barrels.  Now it comes from  infusing the wine with oak chips. Much cheaper than those expensive oak barrels and who has time to age the wine when thereโ€™s money to be made? I mean who needs an oak barrel when you can ferment in a huge steel vat?  Sounds appealing.  NOT.

Oh, but it gets worse.  They throw in chemicals in an attempt to improve the color or the acidity of the wine.  There are a bunch of government approved additives they can throw in the vat to create a synthetic version of your so-called fine wine!

Bianca Bosker, a journalist turned sommelier, who visited wine facilities across the country, discovered the issue with modern winemakers is that they donโ€™t disclose all the ingredients, because they donโ€™t have to.  She wrote, โ€œI find it outrageous that most people donโ€™t realize that their fancy Cabernet Sauvignon has actually been treated with all kinds of chemicals.โ€  

Wines used to be naturally fermented and that process dates back to early human civilization.  This process has been replaced with the addition of chemicals to expedite the process, compromising not only the taste, but our health!

These large-scale producers utilize mechanical pickers for high-volume production.   The problem with these machines is that they are machines!  For mass producers, the benefit here is that these machines can work around the clock and thereโ€™s no over-time pay! What they canโ€™t do is tell the difference between a ripe or unripe grape.  They are also unable to separate the crap that shouldnโ€™t go in the vat like leaves, dirt, or insects!  They canโ€™t weed out the damaged grapes.  If the skin is pierced, oxygen will immediately have a negative effect on the grape before it lands in that vat.

Producers of premium wines believe wine shouldnโ€™t be disturbed and allow gravity to separate the wine from the unwanted particles.  The gravity process takes time and mass-producers donโ€™t have time for all of that!  Instead, they add chemicals called fining agents to bind with the unwanted particles.  They then filter and bottle it.

Because not all grapes were ready to be picked (And how could the mechanical pickers that replaced humans know that!) they add tartaric acid.  This process is called โ€œacidification.โ€  Sounds scary, right?


Typically, wines in the US, New Zealand and Australia, grapes used in premium wines are grown on hills or in the foothills where nights are cool, and days are warm. The warm days help to develop the sugar in the grapes, while the cool nights help the grapes retain acidity.  This creates the balanced taste.  A good wine has the right combination of both.

On a positive note, Iโ€™ve definitely consumed my fair share of antioxidants.  (Moderation is key! Sometimes too much of a good thing, ainโ€™t so good!) Tannins are antioxidants found in the skins and stems of grapes. It has been said that consuming red wines with a high level of tannins could actually reduce the risk of cardiovascular disease, but you will also find information to contradict this if you search.  Again, I believe moderation is always best!

In any event, these tannins are what give red wines their flavor.  Premium winemakers will often conduct a post-fermentation maceration.  Maceration is an extraction procedure where the wine is left in contact with the skins etc., after the fermentation has finished which optimizes the color, flavor, and the tannin structure. This process also helps to soften the astringent tannins creating a smoother and more complex wine.

Unfortunately, this process because it takes time, doesnโ€™t square with the high-volume mass production schedule! Therefore, the smaller scale reds typically have a higher level of antioxidants.ย  As a result, these mass-produced wines are not only cheating us out of flavor, feeding us God knows how many chemicals, they are also cheating us out of health-promoting antioxidants!ย 

Photo by Kelli McClintock

I know you must have heard the term โ€œaging like fine wine.โ€  So, hereโ€™s what that means.

The bottom line is that premium wines are more time consuming to produce.  They cost more in time and money. And weโ€™ve all heard the phrase โ€œtime is money!โ€  Mass-producers choose quantity over quality.  (Now thatโ€™s a surprise.  NOT!) 

The higher levels of tannins allow the wine to develop more complex character.  Premium reds and whites, grown on hillsides and mountains benefit from higher levels of acidity allowing them to age as long as 10 years for white, and 20-30 for a good red!

Fine wine is designed to improve with age; to become more complex and enjoyable. It evolves over time. And hopefully, like you and I, it gets better with age!

So, think before you drink!

Photo by Kym Ellis

Photo by CHUTTERSNAP

Iโ€™m back.  Sorta.

This post is going to feel redundant based on my last few, (which were a few months ago now! Iโ€™m trying!!!) but itโ€™s really bugging me, and I just feel the need for a recap!  I promise! This is the last time.  I’m also doing fifty-eleven things, so please forgive any typos. I just needed to get this off my chest and get back to my fifty-eleven things.

I came to the realization that every time someone speeds by me in a car driving recklessly, (which is what speeding is, by the way.) ย I visualize the accident that took my Grandbabyโ€™s life.ย  As a result, Iโ€™ve become both a super anxious driver and an even more anxious passenger because I donโ€™t have control.ย  And because quite frankly, SOME FOLK I know are not cautious enough or are borderline aggressive driversโ€ฆ.Translation: They scared the shit out of me before the accident! Like, why are you tailgating a flatbed tow truck, when if you run up into the back of them, weโ€™re both getting decapitated?ย  And it may not be your fault.ย  The texter behind us could push us into them when they fail to stop behind us!ย 

If you ask me one of the leading causes of death these days is impatience.  Seriously, our lack of patience is killing us, followed by a total disregard for laws. (The good ones that donโ€™t involve a womanโ€™s right to choose.)  If you take away Covid, accidents are actually the 3rd leading cause of death.  And thatโ€™s not to say all accidents are related to impatience, but if I had to guess, a whole lot of accidents are a result of rushing!  Obviously, accidents can be a result of distractions and medical emergencies, but if I were a betting woman, Iโ€™d put my money on, โ€œsomeone was just being an impatient asshole.โ€ 

In addition to increasing our risks of injury and accident, impatience has a few more health consequences to consider. Impatience can often lead to anger and frustration. The physiological effects of impatience include the release of stress hormones such as cortisol.  Too much of that running around in your body and you increase your risk of heart disease.  And that spare tire in your trunk could eventually have a twin where your waist used to be! 

In my research, I came across this statement by Daniel Baugher, Dean of Graduate Programs at Pace University. “Being impatient could cause anxiety and hostility,” (because God knows we donโ€™t have enough of that in the world!) It can also lead to poor judgment and decisions.


Okay.  So, letโ€™s take a look at the statistics of whatโ€™s taking us out these days!

Leading Causes of Death according to the CDC

  • Heart disease: 696,962. (Stress can be a huge factor!)
  • Cancer: 602,350.
  • COVID-19: 350,831. (Reduced immune function can also be connected to stress!)
  • Accidents (unintentional injuries): 200,955.

If youโ€™ve been reading my last few posts and have any idea of whatโ€™s been happening in my world, you know Iโ€™m going to focus on that last one!  ACCIDENTS.

There is one thing that Iโ€™ve noticed lately, and Iโ€™m sure itโ€™s not a new phenomenon. Iโ€™m guessing as a result of my granddaughterโ€™s accident, followed by my own, Iโ€™m just more aware. 

SPEEDING.  When did we all get in such a damn hurry?  When did we become so impatient?

A few days ago, I had a guy in my trunk blowing his horn like a madman because I was doing the speed limit!  And no, I wasnโ€™t in the left lane.  I am obviously one of the few folks that remember, โ€œkeep right except to pass,โ€ from the driving manual.  Now I see folks passing on the left, and the right.  Hell, theyโ€™re passing on the damn shoulder!  I watch folks fly by me while Iโ€™m doing the speed limit and disappear into the distance!  Why is everyone speeding?  Where is everyone going in such a hurry?

Now that Iโ€™m paying attention, more often than not, the drivers that speed by me appear to be teenagers and young adults.  Having recently lost my beautiful grandbaby in a tragic accident, where according to witnesses, the driver was indeed speeding, I feel the need to address the situation.  AGAIN.  โ€œWhat does this have to do with aging,โ€ you might ask.  Because the fastest way not to age is to die! And sorry, but as you age, your reaction time could possibly decrease a bit. 

I watched a young man speed past me on my right and weave in and out of traffic just to end up at the same light a quarter mile down the road. I realize it was risky, but I beeped my horn and signaled him to roll down his window.  He looked at me like I was crazy, but he did.  He wasnโ€™t far off.  The situation is driving me crazy! I said to him as I held up my phone displaying my beautiful granddaughterโ€™s photo. โ€œWherever you are in such a rush to get to, is not worth dying over or killing someone else and ending up in prison.  My granddaughter was a passenger in a car with someone speeding and driving recklessly and sheโ€™s gone.  Slow down.  Someone loves you and wants you to make it home.โ€ I actually think that was my second attempt at saving someoneโ€™s child.

He looked at me and waved.  Not in a disrespectful way.  But when the light changed, he didnโ€™t speed off as he had the two lights prior.  I hope I put something on his mind.  I know young people think they are invincible.  I can only hope that wherever he was going, he arrived safely and didnโ€™t harm anyone else on the way.

But it appears to be an epidemic.  Iโ€™m just amazed at how fast everyone is going!  Why?

I remember when I moved to LA.  I was shocked at the number of car accidents I saw daily.  I thought, โ€œworse drivers ever!โ€  And I quickly learned that red lights were optional there.  I learned to look both ways, whether the light was green or not!  When my daughter came to visit and was taking my car to go out with her friend, it was the first thing I told her.  Green doesnโ€™t mean go.  Green means, look both ways and then go!

Now Iโ€™m seeing the same thing in NJ. Red lights have become optional and speed limits are just suggestions.  I donโ€™t know why they ever raised them.  Folks did 65 when it was 55, so why increase it?  Increased speeds are directly related both to the possibility of an accident, as well as the severity of the consequences.

Something else that I find disturbing is how often I see cars race by police cars or run lights right in front of a police car with no repercussions.  It feels so lawless these days and I canโ€™t help but think itโ€™s related to the former president.  (โ€œPoor youโ€ in Tony Sopranoโ€™s motherโ€™s voice!) He believed he was above the law and to date, it feels like he was. (I keep watching the news in the hope that this changes!) I think he inspired a lot of folks to believe the same.  Laws do not apply to them.  There are no repercussions for your actions.  But there are.  You could kill someone and end up in prison or end up dead.  That ticket wonโ€™t mean s*#t compared to dying or living with guilt.

I truly feel like things are just out of control, but nowhere more so than on the roads.    There seems to be a total lack of enforcement.  The penalties and fines need to be increased and folks need to lose their driving privileges more often.  How can we expect to reduce traffic accidents and fatalities if we donโ€™t enforce the laws?  Are police officers showing up to work to do the time and collect the check, without doing the job?  (No, Iโ€™m not police bashing! I know they risk life and limb every day and some of them really want to protect and serve. Some.) I watch them watch folks speed by and wait to see if the officer will pull them over.  More often than not, it just doesnโ€™t happen.  And who can blame them when EVERYONE is armed!  Donโ€™t get me started on gun laws!

This whole speeding thing may not apply to you.  My demographic is probably not peeling out like we have no sense.  But you have kids.  You have grandkids, so read on! (And you are on the road with these fools!)


Here are some pretty painful stats I came across!

  • Motor vehicle fatality is the leading cause of accidental death among teenagers, representing over one-third of all deaths of teenagers.
    One of the three leading causes of death for Americans in their 20s is related to risky behavior which includes speeding and driving recklessly and accidents.
  • In 2021, according to the DOT, US traffic deaths reached a 16-year high. โ€œNHTSA, a federal vehicle safety watchdog, estimates close to 43,000 people died in car crashes last year which was a 10.5% increase over 2020.โ€ (This included pedestrians/cyclists.  I wonder why!) That same organization estimated traffic deaths rose in 2021 in 44 states. (Iโ€™m scared of the 2022 numbers!)
  • Traffic injuries are the leading cause of death for children and young adults aged 5-29 years.
  • Approximately 1.3 million people die each year in automobile accidents.
  • 73% of all road traffic deaths occur among young males under the age of 25. Young males are three times more likely to die in a car accident than females in that same age group. (Unless he kills his female PASSENGER!!!!)

Weโ€™re also distracted.  Itโ€™s not too much different than driving under the influence, except one is illegal and more often enforced.  (I guess they both are, really.)  Distracted driving can come in many different forms.  Pets.  Passengers. But of course, cell phones have become the biggest distraction!  Cell phone use while driving increases the likelihood that we will be in an accident by four times!  Distractions decrease our reaction time. (As does age!)


While we cannot enforce the laws ourselves, (or confront the person that just tried to kill you by cutting you off.) there are things we can do.

SLOW THE HELL DOWN YOURSELF to increase your reaction time.  You can better avoid an accident if you have time to react.  When you see an idiot about to race by, slow down and let them go!  And donโ€™t speed up after they pass.  Give them some time and distance.  Otherwise, when they do crash, you wonโ€™t become part of the pile-up or get hit by their air-born bumper!

EXPECT THE WORSE IN FOLKS. Sorry.  (Not across the board.  Just across the highway!) Always assume that someone is going to do something stupid.  Stupidity is the new intelligence. Expect that someone might cut you off.  Expect that someone might swerve into your lane.  When you stop suddenly, look in your rearview mirror in case you need to maneuver out of the way of the person behind you looking at his phone.

STOP BEFORE YOU GET TO THE LIGHT.  Expect that you might get rear-ended and pushed into the intersection by a texter where you could potentially be broadsided in both directions.

DONโ€™T JET OUT WHEN THE LIGHT CHANGES TO GREEN.  Look both ways for the asshole (or three) that might run the light and then go! 

Overall, Iโ€™m going to say this one final time.  The safest thing to do is to just SLOW YOUR ROLL! 

Photo by Kelly Sikkema

Please excuse me while I tend to not only my broken heart but my injured body! Two weeks after my Noodle’s accident, a Doordash driver decided to add neck, back, and shoulder pain to my already broken heart. (Along with a totaled vehicle. I mean… because why not?) #therapy

I hope to feel better soon.

7/2/22 – Part III

Grief. Seriously, Iโ€™m not really suggesting there is good grief.  But Grief is necessary in order to heal. To grieve is to allow yourself to experience the intense feelings of disbelief, despair, and sadness.  Those feelings are part of the healing process, so allowing yourself time to grieve is healthy. itโ€™s not about attempting to forget. That, after all, would be impossible for me.  You just donโ€™t forget the highlight of your life for the past 21 years!  It is safe to say that almost all the highlights of my life included my granddaughter, so who wants to forget? Sometimes, it was just enough to see her face.  Grieving is about allowing yourself to keep going, rather being stuck, which is exactly how I feel. As impossible as it feels right now, I know there will be no healing unless there is grief. Grieving is painful, but necessary. It is unavoidable.  Ignoring the pain doesnโ€™t make it go away, even though right now, it feels that it will remain forever. To some degree it will.  I just want it to hurt less. 

As I age, I realize that unless I go first, I will eventually lose friends and family.ย  My hope is that Iโ€™m done for a good while, but of course I thought the universe was done with my ass back in 2020.ย  Losing folks to age and illness is one thing.ย  This s#*t here, is quite different.

Yesterday, it hit me like a ton of bricks. In fact, even today, it feels like the weight of those bricks are burying me alive.  I felt short of breath. Like someone was hugging me way too tight. I felt a stabbing pain and even checked to make sure the underwire in my bra hadnโ€™t sprung loose.


For the past few weeks, I have focused my attention on my daughter and grandsonโ€™s needs.ย  The house that I bought for them is now the last place anyone wants to be.ย  We are all still waiting for our girl to come through that door.ย  Waiting to hear that God awful music she would blast in the car.ย  You know? That whiny mouth-full-of marbles BS these kids refer to as music.ย  She would sing along loudly and out of tune.ย  We miss her noise.ย  That silence I feared for weeks is upon us and that silence has been accompanied by feelings of emptiness.

A few weeks ago, I put my supermom cape on with the mission to save the rest of my children.  (I only have one, but her kids are my kids.) They wanted out and I needed to make sure they had some place to go.  My plan had already been to give them that house and to find something small for myself, but that all changed.  Now I wanted a home big enough for us all so that I, for at least a while, could take care of them.  Sadly, for buyers it isnโ€™t a great time to be looking.  While itโ€™s a great time to be a seller, the reality is that even if I was lucky enough to find something, it would be overpriced, and I would have to convince the sellers to sell to me.  It would also be costly since I will be swapping out the existing loan for one with a 50% higher interest rate and likely be part of bidding war that would sideline my efforts.  But I would move a mountain to help my kids.  And quite frankly, to help myself.  I believe it will give me great comfort to have them with me.

I was fortunate to have found a pair of compassionate sellers. One is an artist.ย  Now I just need to sell mine.ย  Between preparing the house to be shown and dealing with the never-ending paperwork of buying and selling, in addition to insurance and legal matters, to some degree, I was able to postpone my grief. Oh yeah and throw in being broadsided and nearly killed by an idiot making a left turn from the right lane nearly sending us into oncoming traffic.ย  Instead, just injured, and in someoneโ€™s yard with a totaled vehicle! My neck and shoulder pain were only a slight distraction, but sadly it has contributed to sleeplessness. (As if I needed that!) ย Now that I am just waiting on the process to be completed, I finally had time to hurt. (Physically, and emotionally!) While driving to get my daughterโ€™s daily green smoothie, it hit me.ย  I felt weak.ย  My legs felt heavy, and I felt like I needed to pull over in case they decided to stop working. My heart literally ached as if it was physically splitting in half.


My besties that were there from day one to offer their love and support have stuck by my side the best that they can.ย  And while I appreciate their loving care, there is still a sense of profound loneliness. No one can fill this unimaginable void.ย  The void is like a deep hole that Iโ€™m trying desperately not to fall into. There will never be a substitution for the love I had for my โ€œNoodle.โ€ She was just an amazing human.ย  Beautiful inside and out!ย  Sorry.ย  Cutest baby EVER. Seriously. Don’t look at your baby.

I told you! Cutest Baby EVER.

A few of my friends check in.  I havenโ€™t really had the desire to have a conversation with anyone other than a select few.  The list is short.  It consists of those that were close enough to me to have known her and to some degree share my feelings of loss. I just donโ€™t have the energy to keep suppressing my grief.  I canโ€™t do that to make others comfortable, so I have just avoided most people, including phone conversations. You know, folks telling me to pray. I have only ever prayed for one thing.  โ€œKeep my kids safe.โ€  You see how that worked out?

I donโ€™t want to explode on them when they suggest they know how Iโ€™m feeling. The loss of a child is like no other loss. If you have never lost a child, (and I hope you never do) you will never understand this pain.ย  Please do not try. Trust me. You never want to know this type of pain. Thereโ€™s simply nothing to compare it to. When you lose your child, you lose a piece of yourself.


We all experience grief when we lose a loved one. I am not dismissing that at all.ย  I have lost loved ones.ย  It was painful. This is different.ย  This is devastating.ย  And you might say, but she wasnโ€™t your child.ย  She was your granddaughter.ย  And to that I will say, she was my โ€œotherโ€ daughter.ย  She was a daughter to many, from her โ€œAunt Deb,โ€ a/k/a Dโ€™uber (chauffeur, who also doubled as bodyguard and bacon supplier.) to her basketball coaches.ย  Iโ€™m so grateful to her coaches.ย  Coach Materaโ€™s words at the service were the only ones that offered the slightest bit of comfort.ย  As far as Iโ€™m concerned, no one else needed to speak! Coach Matera and Coach Chris Palladino had a great influence on Cirรฉ and Iโ€™m forever grateful to them for seeing her potential and loving her up.

Noodle with Coaches Matera & Palladino

As a single mom who often worked multiple jobs to provide for my kid and myself, I was able to do things with my her, and for her that I was unable to do with my own daughter. I can only imagine my daughterโ€™s pain if mine is this intense.  But unlike myself, my daughter is religious and Iโ€™m hoping has found comfort in her faith.  I hope I can provide the rest.

Some of my newer friends and acquaintances text to let me know that Iโ€™m in their thoughts and prayers.  Folks want you to โ€œget back to normal.โ€  Folks that showed up with fried everything and abundance of processed meats, (grateful I swear!) have returned to their daily routines.  Their life is back to normal.  My new normal is grief.

I googled the stages of grief to see where I was.  Where I am, is stuck.  As usual, Iโ€™m multitasking. Iโ€™m in at least three of the stages.  Shock.  Denial.  Bargaining. Still offering up my life to have hers back.  Hasnโ€™t worked yet.  Iโ€™m struggling with the finality of never seeing my Noodle again. 

No more โ€œMom Momโ€ texts that were followed with anywhere from thirty minutes to a day of waiting for the other shoe to drop!ย  Uh oh.ย  What does she want?ย  Need?ย  I think she made the rounds between the mom, the grandparents, and Aunt Deb.ย  Someone was going to give her what she wanted.ย  She would circle back as she might have struck out on the first pass. She had us all wrapped around finger.ย  No more cash app requests several times a day to mom and Aunt Deb.ย  She knew I didnโ€™t do apps, so I wasnโ€™t on the cash app request list! ย No more texts that would bear no resemblance to the English language.ย 


As I write this, Iโ€™m sitting in row 2F on my flight west that if not for legal commitments I would have canceled.  Unbeknownst to her, she was coming with me. (Not for the entire time!) Without her, it will not be fun.  When she visited me pre-pandemic, she couldnโ€™t do a lot because it actually rained. (Yes, it rains in southern California!) Quiet as its kept, I wasnโ€™t sad.  Some of it seemed a little dangerous to me!  But then of course, no more dangerous than watching her cross NYC streets with me while looking at her phone!  I was there to protect her.  I was not getting on that paddle board!  I wanted to make it up to her.  She said she wanted to come with me for a few days.  I told her the flights were too expensive.  Of course, she wanted to bring a friend, but I was planning to surprise her. I wanted some Noodle and me time.

She asked me if I had ever flown first class.  I joked and told her, โ€œAll the time. Once you are in front of that curtain, itโ€™s hard to go back!โ€  I used to get free upgrades all the time and now Iโ€™m a little spoiled.  I wanted to spoil her.  I wanted to surprise her and bring her with me on this trip in first class.  Instead, someone elseโ€™s child is next to me in 2C.  Iโ€™m sad.  That was her seat.  (And heโ€™s big and a leg shaker! I HATE THAT!)

I wish I could be excited about seeing an ab or being able to step out of my jeans without unbuttoning them.ย  I have had very little appetite and many days over the past month have been hard pressed to finish even one meal a day.ย  Even when Iโ€™m hungry, five bites in, Iโ€™m full.ย  I do not recommend this diet!ย  Iโ€™m actually surprised that Iโ€™ve lost weight considering I replaced meals with Cabernet.


I do find comfort in knowing I was a good Mom Mom.ย  I tried to protect her and teach her.ย  I know she knew she was loved.ย  We all told her constantly; pretty much daily even if she took forever to reply or answer! I know I set a good example to go for what you want, and I know I, her mom and surrogate Mom Mom Aunt Deb instilled in her that she could do whatever she set her mind to.ย  I know that I provided an example that love, and friends comes in all shapes, sizes, race, and sexual orientation.ย  Love is love.ย  The race that matters most is the human race. Embrace and celebrate who you are and love everybody. Try to. (Some folks do make it difficult!)

Noodle and Aunt Deb

Iโ€™ve been told that I may not feel her presence while in the state of anger.  Maybe she thinks sheโ€™s in trouble with me and even in spirit doesnโ€™t want to hear mom momโ€™s mouth! But I hope to find comfort when I eventually work through the stages of grief and feel her presence. 

Actually, that may have already happened. Last week for no apparent reason, and witnessed by family and strangers, my water glass in a restaurant just flew off the table.  It didnโ€™t slip off because the table was wet. I checked!  I didnโ€™t touch it.  My arms were folded on the table.  It just slowly moved across the table and jumped off.  Kid you not! Even the guy at the next table said, โ€œI saw that!โ€   Maybe it was her letting me know she was with me and as always making a damn mess!

At least she knew not to knock my wine glass off the table.

What to do. From the moment we wake up we are making decisions. We make choices. What to eat. What to wear. What we will do first. To some extent, how our day will go. Those decisions start with thoughts. We have thoughts and we make decisions based on those thoughts.

Some think of others before they make decisions. They put others first.  Some only think of themselves and make decision thinking only of themselves. They never really stop to think of how their decisions may affect others. Perhaps some even act without thought at all. Or they donโ€™t quite think it through and act on impulse. Perhaps in response to pressure from outside sources. Or from some inner dialogue with some false sense of self.

I donโ€™t know. Iโ€™ve had zero classes in psychology. But I do know this. One bad decision can forever change or end a life in an instant. A young man chose to drive recklessly, and potentially under the influence, and his decision ended my granddaughterโ€™s life.

His decision is causing the suffering of countless people who loved her dearly and I imagine since heโ€™s human, his own suffering. ย She made the decision to get in the car with him. His decision may cost him years behind bars. Her decision cost her, her life. While he will get out and probably enjoy a full life, Iโ€™m guessing he will never be the same. ย No matter how many years he might get behind bars, if heโ€™s human, itโ€™s a life sentence. That said, with therapy he may be okay. He can probably be fixed. She is just gone.ย  There is no fixing.

Two different price tags for similar bad decisions. So, I want folks to really give some thought to their decisions. Of course, you need to do what is best for you. But you need to consider others also.

When you are rushing to work, say youโ€™re speeding. Think about how you can hurt yourself. Think about how you might hurt others. And for what? You can get another job. The movie will show again. There will be another sale, another flight, and another train. Youโ€™ll get there. Or maybe you wonโ€™t.  But you will be alive and at the end of the day, that is all that matters.

Think about the consequences of your decisions. Letโ€™s use the above example and take speeding for instance. Worse case, you hurt someone or yourself. You could tear up your car and must put in a claim resulting in rate increases in your insurance.  You could be inconvenienced by not having your car. You could get a ticket; get points on your license and pay more insurance because of a surcharge for three whole years! That decision to speed could end up costing you thousands. Years. It could cost others heartbreak.

For what? So, you could be on time? Maybe make a different decision, like leaving earlier. Or make the decision to accept the consequences of being late. I mean, look at how costly just the decision to speed can be? My granddaughterโ€™s bad decision has resulted in countless broken hearts. Mine included. She paid the ultimate price.

To make mistakes is to be human. โ€œTo err is human.โ€ I was angry with her. I am sadder for her loss than my own. If I had to choose from knowing sheโ€™s alive and well and never seeing her, or having her just gone, I would choose not seeing her. She deserved a long, happy, fulfilling life. She was one of the best humans I know. I miss her. My heart literally aches.

We canโ€™t change past decisions. We canโ€™t change otherโ€™s decisions once theyโ€™ve acted on them. Now I have to make some decisions. Like, how will I go on without her? ย Real talk, I havenโ€™t lost anyone really close to me for 43 years. Truth is, I had less time with my mother than I had with my Noodle and quite frankly, more happy years. (She was sick a huge chunk of the time.) I loved my mother, but I also knew she was sick and suffering. ย There was a sense of relief when she passed. Fortunately, everyone else I am close to is still here. ย This is new for me.ย  As we age, we expect to lose friends to old age or illness.ย  We donโ€™t expect to lose children to one bad decision.


So how does one go on? Since her death, there are moments where I have thought about whether I even desire to.ย  But I have made the decision to be here for those that still need and love me. ย My love for my daughter, family and friends will sustain me. I made the decision to stick around to honor and preserve her memory. ย I have made the decision to try to accomplish some of the goals she had, like helping her brother and those like him. I have decided not to be angry, but I must admit that Iโ€™m struggling with that one.ย  So, I also decided to get help.

Part of me feels dead inside. But I know itโ€™s not dead, itโ€™s just severely wounded. And wounds can heal unless infected with negative thoughts. As hard as it is, I must choose not to think about whether she suffered. Whether she knew she was dying. I must choose not to think about what we all lost or what she lost. But instead, think of the 21 years of pure joy we all received. The laughs she gave us. Just seeing her made me smile.ย  It ainโ€™t going to be easy, but itโ€™s necessary. She would not want us to be sad or suffering.


I visited the bank this week to ask about freezing her account since her wallet has yet to surface.  I had only said the words, โ€œMy granddaughter has passed away days before in an automobile accident and her wallet and debit card had not been located,โ€ and before I could ask what to do, the manager gasped and said, โ€œNot Cire!โ€  She had an account all of two months.  Iโ€™ve been banking with Bank of America for twenty years.  No one knew my name! In two short months, everyone in the branch knew her.  He went on about how impressed he was with her at just 21, she seemed focused, determined, and going someplace.  And how the entire branch had been sad for days after hearing the news from an employeeโ€™s family member who was also a coach at the same school.  Iโ€™m now known in the branch as Cireโ€™s grandmother.  They still donโ€™t know my name, but I proudly accept that title.  She made a lasting impression on everyone she encountered.

Right now, nothing seems to matter. It is a shock and there is numbness. She was part of every decision I made.ย  Even my decision to go west for a while. Sure, part of it was for me. The weather and lifestyle were healthier for me. But I was also trying to live a long healthy life to be here for her and the rest of my family. I also wanted her to not be afraid to chase her dreams or her happiness, even if it was 3000 miles away.

While there, I was inspired to start writing and became very passionate about storytelling.  But I was pursuing my writing dreams not just for me, but also for her. I wanted to be an example to her to follow her dreams. Itโ€™s never too late. And any success I had would be shared with her and the rest of my family. I wanted her to have more than I started with. I wanted her to have an easier life.  I wanted to be able to financially support her dreams and goals. Mostly, I wanted her to know she could do anything she set her mind to.

I was more creative there because I was constantly surrounded by creative folks that could not only inspire me, but may also be able to help, support or collaborate. So, she was even a part of my decision to be away. She has been a part of every choice I have made for 21 years.


I had this dream of owning a small farm because I wanted to grow my own food, but also because she loved animals. I wanted a big enough house, so she always had a place to go. I drove a safe car so she would be safe in it. Now, the simplest of decisions seem pointless starting with just getting out of the bed.

Iโ€™ve tried not to cry because I fear that I will never stop. I feel as if I will never run out of tears. I cannot say I even wanted grands. Didnโ€™t exactly want any new people to worry about. I also know parenting is hard and I wanted my daughterโ€™s life to be easy. Iโ€™m so glad she made the decision to ignore my ass. Had she listened to me I would have not enjoyed those 21 year of joy her baby gave us all. No matter how bad everything else might be, that smile would make you forget for a while. It was powerful. So, I thank her for making what I initially thought of as a bad decision. I was wrong.

Now, I have decisions to make. The first is to go on. To get up. To push through the pain. To focus on the life, rather than the death. Easier said than done.

I made the decision not to drink myself to death.  To not to become dependent on meds to sleep and function. Iโ€™m needed and I choose to stick around for those that need and love me. My decision to do otherwise would inflict pain on countless folks who have shown just how much they love me in these past few days. Who knew?

I had no idea how much my boss and coworkers cared for me. I mean sheโ€™s kept my old ass around for ten years, so there were clues. But she was genuinely heartbroken for me. My granddaughterโ€™s presence was so strong she reached through me and touched others. Itโ€™s an unfathomable loss.

The decision to get in that car hurt did not just hurt her, it hurt us, and it hurt those that love us.

I have decided I probably cannot get through this alone. I decided to get help. My decision to do this may encourage others around me to do the same if they need it. All these decisions will affect those that love me.

So, I ask you to always consider the consequences of your decisions. They affect more people than you know.

Photo by Heather Mount

THIS POST WAS WRITTEN SEVERAL WEEKS AGO.ย  I FORGOT TO UPLOAD THIS YESTERDAY.

So, originally, my collaborator, John (Jay) Washington was going to do the Fatherโ€™s Day post.  Unfortunately, (for me) he has a lot going on and let me know he wouldnโ€™t have time.  Jayโ€™s living his best life, and I ainโ€™t mad at him! 

So, I sat and thought.ย  Okay, I need to write a Fatherโ€™s Day post, which would be cool if I ever had one! Fatherโ€™s Day isnโ€™t something I ever really needed to think about.ย  My mom packed us up and left my father when I was very young.ย  All I know about the man was what was told to me.ย  (And it wasnโ€™t very nice.) I saw him once on my 18th birthday (had no idea who he was when he knocked on the door!) and interrupted my Algebra studies.ย  He showed up with a brown paper bag filled with cash.ย  (Donโ€™t get too excited. It was a small bag.) You know, the ones they used to give you at the liquor store on the corner for your little bottle of hooch!ย  (Not that Iโ€™ve ever had one, but Iโ€™ve certainly seen them!)

If I had to guess and based on future interactions, (which included late-night calls from bars and conversations that I could barely understand between the noise and his physical state.) that bag had likely once contained a bottle of something.ย  Iโ€™m not angry about it.ย  Iโ€™ve learned that folks are usually the way they are because of something that happened to them.ย  Sometimes through no fault of their own. (NOT ALL! Some folks are just cray!) I donโ€™t know what happened to him that made him the way he was, and I will never know.ย  That said, I was a fatherless child and never gave Fatherโ€™s Day a thought.ย  Over the years, I would meet and befriend (marry) many a fatherless child; all of us African American. (Not my friends.ย  My fatherless friends!)

Interestingly, Fatherโ€™s Day and Juneteenth (and my sisterโ€™s birthday) all occur on June 19th this year. (Two of them always do!) So, I started thinking about how the absence of black fathers and slavery might be connected.  And thatโ€™s not to say that all black fathers are absent!  So, please donโ€™t get your panties or your boxers in a bunch! I know quite a few great black dads! (Even the ones that arenโ€™t great husbands, are wonderful, attentive, and loving fathers! They just suck as a spouse.)

But I digress.  As a subject of much debate lately, I donโ€™t even recall learning about Juneteenth in school.  Perhaps because they didnโ€™t teach it.  Although Iโ€™m guessing Mr. Z at Palmyra High mentioned it. We might have just been looking at him in his tight pants or having too much fun to pay attention. (I know. Sad.) I am willing to bet that even those that will enjoy the day off on the 20th, donโ€™t really know what Juneteenth is.  They just know, they donโ€™t have to go to work and might not even care.  Iโ€™m guessing my readers know, but just in case.  Hereโ€™s the deal.

Juneteenth (which is short for โ€œJune Nineteenthโ€) marks the day when Federal troops arrived in Galveston, TX.ย  According to my research, they came to take control of the state and to make sure that all the slaves were freed.ย  There was only one problem.ย  They showed up about two and a half years late!ย  (FN Texas!) The Emancipation Proclamation signed by Abe Lincoln declared that as of January 1st, 1863 (With a catch) stated, โ€œall enslaved people in the states currently engaged in rebellion against the Union โ€œshall be then, thenceforward, and forever free.โ€ (The catch!)

The Confederate General Robert E. Lee had surrendered, but slavery in Texas remained until General Gordon Granger showed up in Texas and read General Order No. 3: โ€œThe people of Texas are informed that, in accordance with a proclamation from the Executive of the United States, all slaves are free.โ€

Slavery had continued.  In fact, enslavers relocated to Texas because it โ€œwas viewed as a safe haven for slavery.โ€ And of course, some slave owners withheld that whole โ€œfreedomโ€ info thing!

Even following Order No. 3, historian Henry Louis Gates Jr. noted, freedom wasnโ€™t automatic for the quarter of a million slaves in Texas!  โ€œOn plantations, masters had to decide when and how to announce the news โ€” or wait for a government agent to arrive โ€” and it was not uncommon for them to delay until after the harvest,โ€ he wrote.

Ainโ€™t that some s#*t!ย  โ€œOkay, let me get this last bit of free labor!โ€ย  That following December, slavery in America was formally abolished with the adoption of the 13th Amendment. Make no mistake, black folks built this country, and they did it for free! (And yet we own so little of it because it was often taken!) Much of the generational wealth that is enjoyed by white folks was made possible because of the unpaid labor of black folks.ย  Youโ€™re welcome.ย  NOT. Okay, I had to get that off my chest.


In 1865, freed men in the Lone Star state, (bass-ackward state!) organized the first “Jubilee Day” on June 19. It was the first of what became an annual celebration. And as Black people got the hell out of Texas, and moved to other parts of the country, the โ€œJubilee Dayโ€ known as Juneteenth tradition, spread. Ironically, Texas would become the first state to make the day a holiday. (Guilt!)  Biden made it a Federal Holiday in 2021.

Some corporations, in 2020 (following the numerous protests) began to recognize Juneteenth as a company holiday. Philadelphia made Juneteenth an official city holiday in 2020. โ€œThis designation of Juneteenth represents my administrationโ€™s commitment to reckon with our own role in maintaining racial inequities and our understanding of the magnitude of work that lies ahead,โ€ stated the cityโ€™s mayor Jim Kenney.  Ya think?

Okay, how might slavery be related to the scores of fatherless black folks I know? (They had fathers of course!  Just not in their lives!  Some rode right past their kids on their plastic, loud- ass big wheels, just never acknowledged their existence!) Well, thereโ€™s no short answer.  Thatโ€™s for sure.  Letโ€™s start with how the slave trade separated families.  Separations started on slave ships and continued to the plantations. Those men that were fathers, were robbed of their families.

Some enslaved people lived in a nuclear family-type situation for a time (Parents and children) so long as they were all owned by the same owner.  There was always the threat of separation as family members, specifically men and older children, were sold off.  Enslaved children were also gifted to a slaveownerโ€™s children. They were considered valuable property.  The effects of slavery have definitely resulted in instability in black families. 

This was explored in depth in Jordan Thierryโ€™s film, The Black Fatherhood One review (Booklist ALA) of the project stated, โ€œThought-provoking…tracing the history of fatherhood in black families from ancient Africa to contemporary America.”

Ken Morris, Jr., Director of Intercultural Life, Cornell College, IA calls the film, โ€œVery powerful…The film brilliantly illustrated the relationship between African American fathers and their children, and the impact of chattel enslavement on the African family unit. The film is successful in presenting an image of African American men that counters the negative and often oversimplified stereotypes of African American fathers.โ€

โ€œIn the first half of the film, Thierry begins by telling his own family story, then with the help of historians and others, traces the roots of the fatherless Black home, revealing a history much more complex and profound than is commonly known. The film digs deep to explore how Black families functioned in Africa before slavery, and how slavery, racism, and other recent challenges such as mass incarceration affect Black fatherhood. It looks beyond major historical events and discusses their psychological impacts.โ€

Photo by Tasha Jolley

Honorable Charles B. Rangel of NY spoke about the destruction of the black family in July of 2005.

โ€œThe black family has yet to recover from the destructive effects of

slavery. In 1712, British slave owner, Willie Lynch was invited to the

colony of Virginia to teach his methods of keeping slaves under control

to American slave owners. Almost three hundred years later, the

techniques that he prescribed seem to have not only been successful in

controlling slaves but lasting as a means of weakening and destroying the black family. In slavery families were purposely divided with husband and

wives separated from each other and their children. Black males were

humiliated and whipped in front of their wives and children. Stripped

of their power and pride, black men were seen as weak and black women

had to be the strength of the household, distorting the traditional

family structure. The black community is suffering from the lack of

families. Marriage has become virtually impossible as black men are

disproportionately incarcerated, unemployed and victims of early death.

Black women on the other hand, have a higher probability of graduating

from high school and attending college. This disparity in

qualifications render the two highly incompatible. As a result, an

alarming two-thirds of black children are born out of wedlock and a

disturbing proportion of them grow up fatherless.

Without a father in the home, where do girls find their model for a future husband?

Where do boys find their model for being a father? Without such an example,

children of fatherless homes are doomed to continue the cycle.

Fatherless children are more vulnerable to suffer from societal ills.

According to the U.S. Department of Health and Human services, children

who are raised without a father are more likely to be poor, have higher

drop-out rates, are at a dramatically greater risk of drug and alcohol

abuse, are more likely to commit criminal acts and are more likely to

get pregnant as teenagers than those raised in two-parent homes.

The bottom line is the absence of a father in the family can be detrimental to the well-being of children and their development. 

And not only were black men separated from their family during slavery.  Sharecropping might also cause a black man to leave his family.  We were forced to โ€œSeparate to Survive.โ€ According to the US Census Bureau, in 1960, about 22% (up from about 9% in the 50โ€™s) of African American children lived with a single parent. (Usually Mom!) By 1968, that number increased to over 30%.  By 2011, that number more than doubled and has since reached about 75%! 

So, why might that be?

How about a more recent example of separating to survive? In the โ€™60s, a motherโ€™s eligibility for child welfare benefits meant there could be no โ€œcohabitation.โ€ย In other words, no man in the house. This separation of black fathers (or even father figures) from their families was a result of social and economic policies. According to theย Center for Law and Social Policyย mass incarceration policies, as well as barriers in the child welfare system disproportionately harm Black families. African American men are incarcerated at a higher rate than any other race.ย  And you need not do anything other than read the headlines daily to confirm that black men are also routinely victims of police harassment and violence. Isnโ€™t it time that we acknowledge the link between slavery and the destruction of the black family?

Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist William Raspberry delivered the keynote of a conference on African American fathers held in the fall of 1998 at historic Morehouse College.

โ€œWE GATHERED together because of our shared concern about the national trend of father absence that is affecting nearly all races and ethnic groups in the United States, and because of our particular concern about father absence in the African American community.โ€

The address closed with, โ€œWE GATHERED knowing in our hearts that the estrangement of fathers from their children is wrong, that children need both their fathers and their mothers, and that neither the African American community nor the nation as a whole, can truly prosper unless and until we reverse the alarming trend of father absence. WE GATHERED together inspired by the strength, courage, and determination of the countless African American men who are heroic models of responsible fatherhood. We acknowledge the many and varied barriers, including racial discrimination, economic and educational disadvantages, and negative cultural attitudes and influences, that undermine the possibility of responsible fatherhood for many African American menโ€.

โ€œThe absent Black father” myth rests upon the false assumptions that Black fathers simply value parenting less than other fathers and that individual choices, rather than structural and systemic racismโ€. 

Many Black men are doing the best that they can.  Of course, some can do better, but for fatherless children like myself, my research has provided me with a little insight and a lot of understanding. So, shout out to Black Dads and shout out to Black Momโ€™s (Yeah, I know Motherโ€™s Day was last month!) for holding it down and for often being both mom and dad! So, letโ€™s celebrate Juneteenth and fathers and close out on what appears to be a positive note. 

On 6/1, details of a report from CAโ€™s reparations task force surfaced.  (First task force of its kind!) It details how slavery has affected every aspect of Black life in America producing โ€œinnumerable harms,โ€ that are still experienced today.

P.R. Lockhart writes, โ€œThe report, which will be released Wednesday, offers a comprehensive look at the impacts of enslavement and generations of discrimination on Black Californians and Black Americans more broadly. It finds that the damage to Black communities is extensive and that a variety of intentionally crafted policy, judicial decisions, and racism by private actors has created a widespread exclusion of Black people that has not been sufficiently addressed at any level of government.ย 

The California report covers not just the immediate impact of enslavement, but also the harms of decades of political neglect, finding that there has been sustained damage to generations of Black Americans. The damage has had a lasting effect on the political, economic, social, physical, mental, and cultural well-being of Black people, particularly those descended from the formerly enslaved.

The harms were largely intentional, crafted through local and national policies that reinforced one another, ensuring that the formerly enslaved and their descendants would be denied even basic protections under the law.โ€ 

Kamilah Moore, a Los Angeles-based attorney and reparatory justice scholar who chairs Californiaโ€™s reparations task force is hopeful that the report will inspire other states to follow suit.

Well.  All I can say to that is, itโ€™s about damn time.

Noodle & Mom Mom

There are no words to describe the heartbreak.  On Tuesday, May 31st, I texted my granddaughter the following text message about safe driving.  Four days later she would die in a speeding car in the very way I spoke of in my text. (As the passenger!) One side of my heart is broken due to my own loss, and the other side is broken for my daughter and my grandsonโ€™s loss. She was his sister and best friend.

Brotherly, Sisterly Love

(Pop Pop hated when I told her what he said.) Ironically, I wrote about the importance of slowing down in a post a few weeks ago when I was almost run into oncoming traffic.

5/31/22

โ€œPop-up said you drive too fast. Driving fast doesnโ€™t make you look cool. It makes you look stupid. If you accidentally hurt someone you can go to jail for that. Not to mention you have your brother in the car. Getting someplace a few minutes earlier is not worth risking your lives, or the lives of others. I know youโ€™ve had bad examples of driving.  Take your time and get their alive! Again, driving too fast does not make you look cool. And when the light turns green, donโ€™t go immediately! Wait and look both ways because people are running red lights like crazy and if one person runs a red light and hits you, they can take you out! People are driving crazy these days to the point where I donโ€™t even like driving anymore. Everybody is in a rush to get nowhere! Itโ€™s not worth dying over. So, slow the hell down!โ€

Bad Ass in every sport!

My Granddaughter, known to most of my friends as โ€œNoodle,โ€ was named Cire Angelynn Forman. She was an amazing human being.  Everything I do has been for her, her brother, and my daughter. (Real talk. Itโ€™s been mostly for her. Thatโ€™s bad. I know, but I was in love with this kid.)  I always wanted to be a great role model and to prove to her that dreams are possible and to always follow them.  I hoped that (by this point) I would have had some success and prove to her that it was never too late to begin or to start over.  Itโ€™s okay to fail; just fail forward! She was my inspiration.  Like me, she had big goals and big dreams and there is no doubt in my mind, she would have accomplished anything she set her mind to do.  She had a huge heart and was loved by many and all.

I wrote what follows the morning after her death.  Yesterday and the day before, I watched countless people of all ages, race, and religion mourn this profound loss.  From her friends; to her basketball coaches, teammates, her family, her momโ€™s friends, and my friends; the pain was shared.  It was no secret to anyone that knows me that my Noodle was the center of my universe and today everything I do or plan to do seems so pointless.  It was more for her than anyone else. I dreamed of creating a show that won an Emmy one day.  And although it might piss off my daughter, Cire was going to be my date. She has owned my heart from the day she took her first breath, and she takes a huge chunk of it with her.  I know my daughter and grandson still need me, so I hope whatโ€™s left of my heart, keeps beating.

I went home last night and sat on the sofa.  I couldnโ€™t sit there.  Just a week before she came over for dinner (after the usual, โ€œMom Mom, what are you cooking?โ€ text.  Actually, it was short hand. โ€œWha u cookn.โ€ ) and as always, moments after eating she would be spread out on the floor. Knocked out!  Without fail she would eat and fall asleep, so I learned to have any conversation with her before I fed her. 

Teach a Brother to Fish

She loved to fish, so I have been desperately trying to find a house for us to go back to Marthaโ€™s Vineyard this summer.  I took my daughter, the kids, and one of her friends in 2018.  They had a ball, and she couldnโ€™t wait to return.  I couldnโ€™t wait to take them.  It was the best vacation ever.  Even though she funked up my rental with fish bait and was insulted when no one wanted to cook and eat the fish she fileted to shreds watching a Youtube video on the deck.  By the time she was finished it looked like something that had come out of a can.  (Wasn’t nobody eating that damn fish! lol) I have always loved Marthaโ€™s Vineyard and went for many years.  I donโ€™t know that I can go back without her.

For her 21st birthday she wanted to go to Miami Beach.  She wanted to jetski.  I would have preferred she just play in the sand with a bucket and shovel, but those days were long gone.  Once on the beach, she just walked up to this coupleโ€™s umbrella in front of ours, climbed into the empty chair and was about to help herself to what was in the cooler.  They just laughed.  That face was irresistible. Iโ€™ve always been overprotective. I longed for those days where we could watch over her around the clock.  Those days when I could protect her.  We were to leave in a matter of days for South Beach. I just cried my way through that cancellation with American Airlines and the Hyatt.

A little over a year ago, she lost her bestie โ€˜White Boy Zachโ€ (Thatโ€™s what she called him. No racists in this family!) in a motorcycle accident.  She was heartbroken.  She climbed out of a window I believe, to escape quarantine just to be there.  I scolded her, and called her the outbreak monkey, but there was no stopping her.  She loved him.  There were video after video of them dancing. I was glad that she had him in her life.  I can only hope theyโ€™re dancing together again.

I donโ€™t know how to get through this week, much less the deafening silence when the noise of this week is over, and the sound of her voice is just gone. I hope she finds a way to speak to me.

One thing I know is that she knew she was loved.  BY MANY.  BY ALL.

6/4/22

My Noodle

She was an amazing, kind, generous and thoughtful soul.

Some kids bring home rescue animals. Cire used to bring home rescue people. Babies. Friends that needed a place to stay. My daughter would just buy more groceries because her daughter got the generosity gene from her mother.

She inherited her love of creatures and her eyebrows from her dad. You Name it she had it. Rabbits, ferrets, turtles, dog, cat, fish, lizards.  When I told her I was looking at farms she was excited about finally getting a pig!

I used to brag about her all the time. I was so proud of her. She literally could do anything. Think she got that from me. Yeah. Iโ€™m owning that one.  She was creative and multi-talented.

I even bragged on her when it was inappropriate! (INSERT BIG EYED EMOJI HERE!) Like the time she whupped that girls ass after she bent down and cleaned off her shoe. The right hook on this girl. (or was it the left?) She was a beast. Beauty and the beast but only ifโ€ฆ..She was a gentle soul.  She didnโ€™t start the fight.  She just finished it.  Donโ€™t mess with Suga-Re!

Many of my people never knew her real name. They just knew her as Noodle. A name I gave her at birth. She was long, thin, and pale. Like linguine.  She was born tall!

She recently asked me how she go about starting a sports foundation for autistic children and children on the spectrum like her brother. My Noodle was always looking for ways to give. She truly had a heart of gold. (Guess I have to figure that out!)

She had her brother’s back. He had hers.

Youโ€™re going to hear me talk about my Noodle a lot more.  Youโ€™ve been warned.  As soon as I can gather my thoughts and put them into words, I will continue.  Until then, I will need some time. 

My heart is broken.ย  She absolutely took a piece of me with her.ย  She was my light on any dark days.ย  She was my sunshine no matter the weather.ย  My heart will never beat the same again.ย  There is a hole in it that will never be refilled. There is nothing to take for this pain, but time.

(I can’t read this again. I keep crying. I apologize for any typos.)