Goodbye 2009!!

This has been one hell of a year. Everything that could go wrong almost did and us Brown Folks were left  in a vortex of confusion, senselessness and damn near poverty. One day you're moving along and everything is honky dory then Kaboom! It all blows up.  In this year alone close friends passed away (Jeri,Ted & Michael), Alexander took an extended break from college (although he was so close to finishing), Bob lost his job and MS has made my days difficult. My money was funny and change strange. I fought with everything I had to keep us normal and sane. Some days I did okay other I fail, miserably. So after struggling to just keep going I stopped. I just stop trying to correct all the problems and decided to allow things to be. All I can think of is the old black saying of…"it’s all good". Even as things were falling apart and I was about to lose all that I worked for all my life I felt the promise of 2010 coming. So now I am looking forward to Twenty-Ten. My soul tells me everything will turn all right. We did all the preliminaries to get ready for Twenty Ten  like cleaned the house, put our grapes & champagne (actually sparkling apple cider) in the fridge, showered and took out our good red underwear and are on our way to celebrate a rough year ending and new one coming our way. Already it holds promise: Bob has choices of which company to work for (he has an excellent resume), and already doing several interviews that are promising (So we might in up in the Mid-West) Alexander must be tired of our constant pissed off pleading lectures because he is now full steam with the attitude of going back to school and getting a paying job. Adam is in his place calling on a regular basis. I am determine to find a way to live with this crazy disease and still do the things I love to do. I do have to say that this year has humbled me and my family greatly and maybe that was the point. I just wish it didn’t take so long. So as we count out our 12 grapes and wait for the clock to click down and the fireworks to shoot out of the Space Needle, I have to say Thanks for leaving 2009 and shout hooray its over!

Our House in the Middle of the Street.

It’s a beautiful day in sunny Seattle today. Bright blue sky yellow sun hitting the autumn leaves just so that one would think its part summer with a cool breeze. California weather. Perfect for a Tuesday after Thanksgiving. Makes you smile and just be happy that your alive and well enough to go outside and breathe. Reminds me of 41st Street. Growing up on 41st Street meant that you were a part of larger extended family that included folks from across the street to around the corner. They were just as likely to sit next to at the dinner table as you were to watch their television with them. We were all different ethnicities and nationalities, but we were family. Our house sits in the middle of the street, the Means’s were across the street. There are the Gutierrez and Kim across from them, while the Clausen’s were at the beginning of the street. There were the older folks who were constantly on the lookout for our comings and goings. People who would Mom in a heartbeat if they thought you were doing something suspicious or dangerous (what we considered fun). We had Vera, our most beloved play auntie and nosey Mr. Flory who would tell if you farted while skating pass the church, but grew the best vegetables. There was the Maxwell’s who were so kind and unselfish they would purchased dresses for me and take me to some of the black society social events. There was the Craig’s on the corner where Mrs. Craig taught me to sew, knit and crochet and Mr. Craig would give Mom pheasants he hunted. The Moore’s whose grass I watered when they went on vacation and in return she gave me Harlem Renaissance books, which I still adore. There were Cuba’s, Patterson’s, Mrs. Trig, Ms. Potts, Coventons, the Hales, Judy’s family (with those bad assed twins), and the Nun’s (who Mom would eventually cook for), even Miss America who would pose in underwear at her front door for my brothers. There was even a honorary 41st Street member that really live across town in Greenhaven (much love Brother James). This was our block as I knew it. We ran with anyone who was around and we kept up with their activities. When someone did something we all knew what when and why. Usually because one of us was involved also. Amazing as we grew up, moving away and starting our own family the bond was still there. It just grew more intense. As if the separation made desire the childhood safety of know what was happening next. We knew that Saturday was set aside for chores and Soul Train. That Friday was date night and sneaking out (I know I was not the only one!). We knew that on Monday someone on the block was giving me a ride to school (Thanks Paul!). And if we needed a broom or mop or a cup of sugar we could ask the Means’s or always ask Kim if she would walk with us to Compton’s Market. That safety of neighborhood family was sometimes the only thing that made us sane. We shared whoppin’s, ice cream truck treats, Howard's daily barbequing dogs, vacuums, football in the street, music, Baby Thug’s adventures, clothes and General Hospital every afternoon. There was events that only us 41st’ers would understand how crazy life was: Howard’s body cast, Jimmy shooting at cars as James drove by, every marriage and divorce, unwed pregnancies and child raising, Kenny’s illness and eventual death. We did all together. Everyone in everyone’s business; laughing, gossiping, crying, fighting, praying and mostly loving because we shared something greater than us. We shared a block that would forever shape our decisions and attitudes. That was the block. Our block. One I thank God for allowing me to be a part of. Praying much for my block sister Jackie.

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