9-11 Emergency – Original Poetry

9-11 Emergency

This poem was written during a trip to New York City in 2009. As the taxi cab stopped in traffic I looked up and I was right in front of Engine 34. I felt the energy in the building and these words came to me…

Back in New York

and nothing is the same

I know it’s been more than ten years

I expected that a lot had changed

The taxi cab was shiny and new

No familiar ganja or curry scent lingering in the air

No arrogant driver to talk to

Either from fear of a bad review or the thick bulletproof shield

that assured there was no conversation to share

The streets were still dirty, the buildings still grey and stoic

Yet the soul of the City had changed and I almost couldn’t put my finger on it

Until I passed by Ladder 34

This is where the City lost its soul

All of the years I spent walking these streets riding in taxi cabs and liverys I had never passed this place

The building was so lifeless

The pain, the heartache washed the color from the red paint

The emotion felt just driving by in the cab almost made me faint

I wanted to stop the driver and run to the building to perform CPR

Jump-start the hearts and souls of the firefighters inside waiting for the next emergency

and praying to God that they are not called to another tower

And lose what’s left of the hope they cling to each and every hour

Sadness overwhelms me as I see the fighters from the past

running to get ready to save us from the blast

They never knew what hit us

why the towers were coming down

never thought twice about the danger that awaited them underground

Not knowing who was in danger

They didn’t hesitate to answer the call

All of our brave and dedicated servants showed up for us

I pray for the souls of them all

September 11, 2015 1

New Shoes: My Mother’s Day Gift from Above

My Mother transitioned a little less than fourteen years ago, and last year was the first year I awakened on Mother’s Day without heaviness in my heart and tears in my eyes. Our relationship expanded beyond mother and daughter, we were best friends, so it was a deeper loss for me. The first few years were the most difficult. Even though I was a mother myself, all of the Mother’s Day commercials with scenes of children hugging and delivering gifts and flowers to their mothers trickled into my joy like Chinese water torture. The constant barrage of reminders and emails about the day made me want to crawl under a rock until it was over. One day about ten years ago, my Godmother called me to wish me a happy day and I burst into tears. She spoke to me about the pride she felt when she watched me with my children, and that she knew my mother was watching with even more pride and how I should pass the joy of motherhood on to my offspring, not just the sadness of the loss. She told me that it was normal and acceptable to have a moment of sadness and recognition of the loss, but not to sit in it and watch the day pass without honoring myself and all of the other mothers and mother figures in my life. That same year my daughter’s Godmother talked to me about the love of a Mother and how her presence is strong and with us but we have to push aside the cloud of grief to see their light. She suggested that I ask her to manifest herself in some small way during the day and so I challenged her belief and I did. Later that afternoon my best friend’s mother showed up on my back porch (mom’s favorite spot ) with a beautiful bouquet of plants and flowers and also reminded me that this is a day not only of remembrance of my mom, but more importantly to celebrate and applaud myself. Mom had sent her most faithful messengers to me and I finally had no choice but to hear them loud and clear and drink in the love that she was offering through them.

I can’t say that the weeks leading up to the holiday aren’t still sometimes melancholy and that I don’t think of her more because of all of the commercialized sentiments, but I do three things leading up to mother’s day that keep me from being overwhelmed by the sadness that can envelop the holiday:

I pamper myself : Last week, I put appointments in my calendar for a massage, manicure and pedicure. I also made arrangements to take a mini-retreat; a 24 hour stay-cation at a nearby hotel complete with wine, bubble bath, and as much sleep and relaxation I want without anyone yelling “mom” or bursting in my room, even if it is for a morning hug. As caretakers, our first priority should always be to check in with ourselves and make sure we take the time out to refuel every once in a while. I save $50 a month and put it into my Serenity Fund so that I can take a stay-cation at least four times a year. If you patronize a particular hotel each time you can end up with points and some of your retreats will cost you nothing.
I purchase myself a gift that will arrive on or before Mother’s Day: In the last few years of my marriage, my ex would not even buy me a Mother’s Day gift. My children were babies so I would be disappointed to say the least. I realized then that I didn’t have to wait for another person to validate me as a mother and that I could do it for myself, so each year I purchase one gift that I wanted but had refrained from buying for myself, and I purchased one gift that I would probably have given to my Mother (almost always ends up being a pair of shoes!). This year, I replaced my worn out couch with a slightly used couch with two recliners. And I ordered three pairs of shoes. I honor myself and honor my Mother at the same time and receive twice the love. Win-win!
I ask for Mom to “show up” and always expect a gift from her in the form of a mini-miracle: I never really felt my mom’s presence until months of grief therapy helped me get past the mild depression that set in after her loss. She was around but I wasn’t present. Now, I ask her to show up for me and she always does. And I always experience a random act of kindness from one of her angels here on earth. This year, the day before Mother’s day my shoes arrived and I got the sudden urge to rid my closet of old shoes I can’t or won’t wear any longer and to organize my closet to fit in all of the shoes that I can wear since my ankle fracture. It truly felt as if mom had taken over my body because I haven’t cleared out my bedroom closet in about ten years. Mom had so many shoes that she had each shoe box cataloged by number on her computer. Halfway through the project I smiled because I couldn’t deny that she was making her spirit known to me, and I thanked her for the beautiful gift of her presence! Most years I get several mini God-incidences (much more than a coincidence) or miracles, so far for this Mother’s Day I’ve received two. I have been wanting to replace my couch. I originally purchased it from a Thrift Store just to have something to sit on when my ex moved out and took the furniture with him. The couch was nothing fancy but it was cheap and comfortable and would suffice. A few weeks ago on a Yard Sale site I saw a double reclining sofa listed for several hundred dollars. I mentioned that I was interested but knew it was still not in my budget. A few days ago the woman contacted me saying the other buyer had backed out and she was dropping the price of this gently used couch (it retails new for over $700) down to $100. When I mentioned that I needed to find someone with a truck, she said she had a friend who could move it for me, no extra cost; mini miracle #1. Friday I went to the local Whole Foods to get fruit and thought about what I could get that was appetizing and also easy enough for the kids to cook me for Mother’s day. While browsing, a gentleman working at the fresh pasta counter invited me to consider some of their options. I started thinking that pasta would be easy enough for the kids to prepare especially since fresh pasta cooks so quickly. Before I could decide, the young man said that he would give me a sample of Ricotta Gnocchi to try at home and proceeded to fill up a small box of fresh pasta that I could take home at no cost to me! I picked up a small container of marinated and grilled chicken breast and just that quickly my Mother’s Day dinner dilemma had been resolved. I smiled again and said “thanks Mom”; mini miracle #2.

Some don’t believe in spirits or the after life or even that people transition and remain with us as energy, but I do. And even if you don’t, and you have or have had the experience of a Mother’s unconditional love, you should at least believe that she would not stop loving you or showing her love for you just because she is no longer physically able to do so. Mothers are God’s miracle workers and I don’t believe the miracles stop just because their earthly heart stops beating.

Wishing all of the caregivers of beautiful children, a beautiful day of love, gifts and miracles! And oh yes, shoes!!

May 10, 2015 7

“Grief Waits” – Original Poetry by Toni Love

I read this original poem “Grief Waits” at The Collective All Artist Open Mic a few weeks ago at Rose Petals Cafe and Lounge and a few people asked me to post it. This was written a few weeks after my father transitioned, not for sympathy but to support the little girl inside yearning to tell her story. Not sure I’m finished with it, but here it is:

Grief Waits

She cries
Into makeup stained pillows when no one is awake
This single mother of two wants her own daddy back
But no time to be sad with taxi runs to baseball ballet and piano lessons
No chance to cry with the babies watching and counting on her strength
Even peaceful meditation is interrupted by children’s nightmares soaked in sadness
She greets the morning sun holding back the tears
Adorning sunglasses so the suburban moms don’t ask her “what’s wrong?” as she skips her child to school

Gotta make sure her offspring are happy and
Gotta make sure they keep up their grades and
Gotta keep their schedules consistent so they won’t feel the pain
Gotta keep a smile at the job and
Gotta search for the desire to
pay the bills, do the laundry and cook them a healthy meal

Gotta shield them from the rain

But who is taking care of the little girl who just lost her daddy
Who makes sure she eats and keeps the heaviness of her heart from sinking into the pit of her stomach
Who holds back her fear of the journey through life as an orphan and raising strong kids alone while the village is slowly disappearing
No grandfathers, no grandmothers, no great grands, no mother no father
No father

Who holds her at the end of the night when the kids are counting sheep and she can’t find enough energy to weep
Who takes her by the hand and lifts her off her feet to give her burdens a chance to sleep
Who says its gonna be okay and wipes her tears away
Maybe tomorrow will be a better day
Maybe then she’ll feel like going out to play
But not today

Because she’s tossed and turned all night
Living a nightmare until the first ray of daylight
Then its time to dab away the pain and push away the tears
Because its 7:15 and the school bus will soon be here
And no one wants salty tears in their lunchbox

Yet she rises once again meeting the morning with a smile
As grief waits behind every closed door

God Bless the Child

March 4, 2015 4

Life (for Elizabeth) Original Poem 11/23/14

Life ( for Elizabeth)

Your breath became my own

and you exhaled life’s elixir into my lungs

as I was yet being formed

Your dreams were etched into my DNA and each step you took created my legacy

You are life

No one can doubt a Mother’s love

It’s God’s favor manifested from above

Life’s shelter from our enemies

A Mother transforms herself often to be

Best friend and nurturer

Wife and reliable comforter

Steady and stern when necessary

With laughter sweet and colorful as ripe strawberries

You are Life

You will always be life

You will continue to love us

To help and encourage us

Your love transcends time and earth and breath

It is everlasting

It is omnipresent

Love is here

You are here

Your spirit remains here

With every breath we take

Because

You are life

November 24, 2014 2

Memories of a War Veteran..I have not forgotten

I can hardly remember his smell, but I will never forget his smile. Even his face is fading in my memories, but his physical presence has left an inexplicable imprint on my heart. On this day of remembrance and honor for those who served our Country, we often think of those brave souls most who laid down their lives to keep us safe. We memorialize most those fallen soldiers who fought in wars and in countries far away and did not come home alive. Yet we don’t always think of those who came home from war and touched our soil physically complete, but mentally and spiritually deceased. I write about these fallen soldiers because I loved one..my Uncle Bay. His name was Robert Austin but his nick name was “Bay” so we grew up calling him Uncle Bay. He had a beautiful brown-skinned wife, my Aunt Barbara and she loved me as if I were her own daughter. She had a beautiful smile and contagious laugh and she and my mother grew close because they were both married to Austin men who also had a close bond. My father and Uncle Bay were both very charismatic and handsome men and were famous for the trouble they would get into when they would frequent the night clubs and speakeasy’s in Philly and South Jersey. For some reason I also took fondly to Uncle Bay. Maybe it was because I sensed his bravery, maybe because I knew how much my father loved him, or maybe it was because I knew he adored me, but I felt s special bond. I would see him whenever he came to our home or when we visited our grandparent’s and he always gave me a big hug, told me how pretty I was and like my dad would spoil me rotten. I was very young, not quite seven years old when I remember sitting, talking to him and he insisted on giving me a piece of his jewelry. I of course loved jewelry and the idea that he would want me to have what I thought was an expensive piece of jewelry it made me feel so adored. I chose a name bracelet that was not engraved, but had big beautiful silver links and I kept it safely tucked away in a box in my room.

It would be not even a year later that I would be told of my uncle’s passing. My Uncle was a Vietnam War Veteran. He was fortunate to be one of the ones to come home alive, but the person who left never really came home. He was sad, he was depressed, he struggled with the choices he was forced to make at war and never really felt comfortable in his skin when he came home. He was a walking casualty of war. I remember the newspaper article and feeling so angry that his precious life could be ended in a corner bar brawl. I was seven but I wanted to know where it happened and I didn’t feel right until I saw the place myself. I wanted to find someone to blame. I wanted my Uncle Bay back. I couldn’t wrap my head around it; how some strange person could have the right to take the life of a brave soul who served his country so easily and quickly. My uncle wanted to escape from himself and couldn’t wait for my dad to come to the house to pick him up so he went out on his own. My dad never got over the guilt and the anger. I am no longer angry because I understand that back then they often did not diagnose post traumatic stress disorder, nor provided the necessary help, especially to Veterans of color. I understand that Uncle Bay felt the only relief was to provoke someone to take him from this life. I understand that he is in a better place watching over me and my family. I understand that he did not choose to serve in Vietnam. I understand and because of that I have never forgotten.

I love you Uncle Bay. Happy Memorial Day!

May 26, 2014 3

It’s all Temporary (Memoirs in a Cast)

Yes, that is my left foot in a cast. A little over three and a half months ago I found myself laying flat on my back in the street after I stepped off of the curb onto a sheet of ice and fractured my Fibula (the smaller bone on the outside of my ankle). I thought it was just a sprain, but fortunately a good friend who is also a Registered Nurse found me in the street and urged me to go to the emergency room for an x-ray. I was devastated when the doctor told me I had suffered a fracture. I spent six weeks in a cast and on crutches, three weeks in an ugly, bulky black boot and now I’ve graduated to an ankle brace and running shoes. Thankfully, I’m making progress and I’ve got two more weeks to go before I am finished my physical therapy. It has been extremely challenging to say the least, especially as a self-employed, independent mother with two fairly young children. I am so thankful that the fracture did not warrant surgery and I am thrilled that I did not fracture the Tibia, which is the larger, weight bearing bone in my lower leg. And although it was extremely uncomfortable, frustrating, inconvenient and sometimes painful, I was also very aware and grateful that this was a temporary condition and that one day I would be walking again.

I felt sad and depressed at times but when those feelings started to rise, I reminded myself that there are millions of people who spend a majority of their lives on crutches, in wheelchairs and walkers. Making a mental gratitude list would pull me right out of my pity party. I must say that I learned quite a few things while I was incapacitated; wisdom that you and I have most likely heard somewhere before, but really came into focus during my recovery period and I felt I needed to share them with you:

Don’t mess with Mother Earth. When there is snow and ice on the ground, put your boots on, even if you are just “running” to the store. Your new cross trainers may have traction, but they are no match for snow, and definitely not when it’s laying on top of a thick patch of ice that you can’t see!
Stop trying to do everything all at once. The day I slipped on ice I felt so motivated. Earlier that morning I had a meeting with my friend and marketing consultant about a new business venture, I volunteered at my daughter’s school, went to a clients office, went food shopping, handled one of my duties as PTG (Parent Teacher Group) Treasurer and was on my way to squeeze in the rest of my “to do” list before the kids got in from school when I fell. As the sole caregiver for my seven and twelve year old, as well as a self-employed accountant during tax season (not to mention the volunteer positions and other ways I help my community), my plate was overflowing. I get so exhausted that sometimes I have days when I don’t feel like doing anything at all; then of course my “to do ” list gets backed up and I go into Superwoman mode. A good friend told me just a few days before my fracture, “even Superwoman has to put her cape in the dry cleaners for a few days” but Superwoman didn’t listen. I found out the hard way that when Superwoman is too stubborn to slow down, God sometimes does it for her. I am going to stop volunteering for so many things and am going to selfishly take time more time to focus on what’s most important to me instead of what I do to please others. Lesson learned.
Allowing others to love and care for you is not a sign of weakness. I was overwhelmed by the constant outpouring of love, prayers, text messages, emails, visits and help that I received while I was unable to take care of myself and my children. When you are unable to put any weight on one foot, and are subjected to crutches, it’s impossible to make beds, do laundry, stand at the stove and cook, wash your daughter’s hair, pick up after the kids and even sit down on the side of your child’s bed to give them a kiss goodnight. And since I am used to doing all of that myself, I hadn’t a clue of who, what and where to ask for help. You feel less than a woman because you can’t take care of your children’s needs, you can’t take care of your home and you feel so unattractive add useless. It’s almost depressing, but my reality was that I couldn’t do it and I couldn’t’ let my kids starve because of my pride so I was forced to ask for help. What I found out to my surprise is that my dear friends, my family and even those who were not so close to me were ready and willing to help me and support me in any way that I needed. I felt so loved and appreciated that it was sometimes overwhelming. Today I know just how much I am loved and appreciated.
Your children need to learn how to care for themselves. As a mother, I am so used to doing everything for my children yet I was now forced to start teaching my children how to take care of the household and hence themselves. I guess I thought that if I did everything they would always need me, not realizing that by doing everything, I am not doing my job as a mother, which is to teach them to be self-sufficient. I taught my son how to scramble eggs, make five minute gits and bake turkey bacon in the oven because I got tired of eating cold cereal for breakfast. To my surprise he loved cooking and loved the science behind it all! He also learned how to load the laundry and dryer. My daughter learned how to wash herself up at night and get herself into bed, and was my legs when I needed anything. My son took over my job of reading her a bedtime story. I was upset that I could no longer walk my daughter to school but she was so proud of the fact that she could get across the street and back on her own. Now that I am able, she doesn’t even want me to walk her to school! A mother’s job is to teach her children how to survive in this world without her. I can now take that off of my “to do” list.
Nothing is more important than your health; don’t take it for granted. I believe that if I hadn’t been getting to the gym on a fairly regular basis, staying active with my kids, eating healthy foods (I gave up fast food a few years ago), keeping my weight down, sacrificing to buy organic foods, practicing meditation and maintaining a healthy spiritual life, this recovery would have taken much longer. I am healthier than I thought. I also decided that I had to put my health first even if others (clients) were frustrated, disappointed, pushy, and lacked compassion, I had to take the time to heal and have faith that my needs would be provided for. If I allowed others’ needs to interfere with healing, I was jeopardizing my business anyway. At my age, the doctors were surprised that I did not need to stay in the cast or boot longer than I did. My physical therapists are amazed at the progress and strength I have in this ankle after just a few weeks of PT. I am amazed that after almost two months of not driving, being stuck in the house with two kids, still grieving the passing of my father, with limited connection with the outside world, I still maintained my sanity! All because I focused on my healing and put my needs first for a change. Which leads me to the last lesson…
Everything is temporary. One of the most important lessons that I’ve learned from meditation and Buddhist teachings and had to re-learn during this recovery is that everything is temporary. When you are in the midst of a crisis or uncomfortable situation and you feel like you will not last or that it will never end, think of a lightening storm. I remember as a little girl I was taught that instead of just sitting there feeling fear, to count the seconds in between the claps of thunder because the longer the time in between two claps of thunder, the farther away the storm. I would be so focused on counting that it took my mind off of the fear. The storm would move further away and before I realized it, there was no second clap of thunder to count at all, and the storm was over. Even storms pass through. If we remember that things change every single second, then we can focus on what we can do in the moment to enjoy the time and space we have, knowing that even if this moment is difficult we are guaranteed not to be faced with it forever.

When they told me I fractured my ankle, I cried. I couldn’t imagine why God would immobilize me when I had two kids, a household and a business to manage. It seemed so overwhelming and felt like a prison sentence at the time. I imagined at my age that it would take forever for me to get this cast off and get some normalcy in my life. Today as I sit here writing and walking around in my bare feet, I take the time to absorb the lessons I was knocked on my behind to learn. Save your energy on stressing about a situation, because the moments are only temporary. Just let go and allow yourself to embrace the love and joy in the atmosphere because it is there and love is forever.

May 13, 2014 4

I Want To Get Off – Original poetry

I approach you carefully hesitating all the while
Feeling my body being pulled closer because you entice me and I love your style

So sexy the way you dip when you move
Silky smooth colored outer skin and your softness inside makes me want to sink in to you
No doubt why so many others fall in line just to be in your presence
And here I am amongst them unashamed waiting for my turn to experience the same ecstasy

I stand patiently with my heart quickly racing
Thousands of beats per minute fill my heaving chest
As you motion in my direction

My body temperature elevates my palms are moist waiting to feel you inside
Breathing heavily, approaching cautiously til you pull me close and wrap yourself around my waist and outer thigh

I hold you tight and close my
eyes
Too afraid to just let go and enjoy the ride
I trust the way you ease into it gently and take it slow
The excitement builds and my heart sinks down to my feet and I forget how really fast we are going

And just when my climax begins, you drop me and leave me helpless
No air to breathe, no support under my feet and I don’t feel the passion anymore

I’m scared and I don’t know what’s coming next
I can’t trust that you are secure enough to protect me
Even holding me as tight as you can, I still scream from fear
because I’m afraid that when I trust you the most that you’ll drop me

So I beg you to stop playing with my heart
To unwrap yourself from my torso and release me
Let me walk away with my dignity, without feeling ashamed about what I let you do to me.

I foolishly trusted you from the start but now that you’ve shaken both my confidence and my heart

You will never convince me again to ride a roller coaster , I’ll stick to the kiddie go-carts!

March 25, 2014 6

Happy No Fear , original poetry

New year and I’m ready to release the pain
No more capturing old Polaroid type snapshots of hurt inside the tear- stained crevices in my heart.
The things you said, the regrets and the unspoken daggers thrown at all parts of my body have bruised me enough.
My heart has hardened and I’ve been trying every chemical, oil and homeopathic medicine that I could find
To massage in with fingers worn and paper-thin from
So much kneading
Because I keep needing the love to make its way in
Trying to force myself to love again
Daring them all to penetrate the walls of plaque hardened around my heart
No longer will I leave my canals open and vulnerable with sun drenched thighs
Yearning to be touched from within
Because this fight I will win.
I am worthy of a life free of fear
And I deserve to have someone I trust to pull me near
Whisper “I love you” sensual and sincerely in my ear
And not cringe from disbelief

Because it’s a new year
And I’m ready

So goodbye fear

February 12, 2014 2

God Has Answered

It’s so amazing when you can look back on the major events in your life and see where God has not necessarily answered your exact prayer, but gave you exactly what you needed. I wanted so desperately to have another boy. My son was so easy-going, mild-tempered, played happily by himself, ate whatever I put in front of him, weaned himself off of me before the age of one and was willing and excited to go anywhere and do anything I suggested. He was such a bright and happy kid and definitely a momma’s boy. I wanted another just like him!

When they told me (because I could never be one of those women who find out the sex of the baby on the operating table) at the ultrasound that it was a girl, I almost cried. I felt so disappointed. I knew what a handful I was as a young girl, and how much I resisted whatever my mom said was the “right thing to do” when I was a tween, and I was not ready for the challenge. I wasn’t ready to release the boxes and boxes of beautifully preserved boys clothing that I had so carefully packed away in anticipation, and did not want to paint the nursery pink or buy all new pink fluffy clothing. I grew up in a houseful of boys – three brothers and a mass of their close friends whom I considered my “play” brothers. I knew how boys thought, what their interests were and was comfortable being around them.

What was I going to do with a girl?? My friends and family were all excited that we would have the “rich man’s family – one boy and one girl. They all told me that I would love having a daughter, that one day we’d enjoy laughter over manicures, tea cups and pretend cookies and that we would be the best of friends. If it weren’t for the close relationship I had with my mom, I would not have believed a word they said. But my mind still went fast forward to her teenage years where I saw us fighting all the time and her sneaking out the bedroom window to run away with some foolish boy. After all I had nausea the entire nine months I carried her and it couldn’t have been a more miserable pregnancy. I thought, “this is not going to be good”, and secretly hoped the ultrasound was wrong. But God knew best.

This pregnancy came after suffering three miscarriages within a two-year period, and yet I still considered trying again. I wanted to give my son a sibling. The specialists we saw couldn’t find any reason for the lost babies and I started to think maybe my Creator was telling me that it was just not in the plan. The doctors suggested I try again. I prayed to God and asked for a miracle. Another positive pregnancy test. I made a deal with God that if this embryo did not survive, I would accept that God’s plan for my life was to just have one child and I would not try again. My next ultrasound confirmed the pregnancy, yet the visit several weeks later presented us with potentially devastating news. They saw a blood clot right by the embryo and there was a high possibility that I would miscarry. I spent the next week on bed rest, and in prayer. My prayers were about to be answered one way or another, and I wanted to have the strength to handle the outcome. By the next ultrasound the clot had disappeared. There was no trace of it. The ultrasound technician was dumbfounded; the doctor said it was a miracle and I couldn’t hold back the tears.

As soon as I got home, I looked up names for the little baby girl growing in my womb. I had already chosen her middle name, but I searched for a name by meaning. I wasn’t sure what name it would return, but I knew what I wanted her name to mean. My eye was drawn to the name Janai (Jah-nay). Janai means “God has answered”. I surrendered and accepted and held strongly to my faith. Absolutely God had answered. Not my prayer for a boy, but I was rewarded for my faith. My God!

I am writing this so that when she’s spending way too much time in the shower, or dating some boy I don’t approve of, or just plain giving me more grey hairs, I will read this again, take a deep breath, hold her in my arms and as I did the morning she was born, cherish the beautiful gift I was given when God answered. I hope it works!

Happy Fifth Birthday “sweet cheeks”!

Love, Mommy

March 22, 2012 3