Deferred Dreams

What are the consequences of deferred dreams?

Dreams are the cornerstone of life. They give us a reason to get up in the morning and help to make life more palatable. Dreams nourish the spririt and soothe the soul. The Christian gets through life on earth by cherishing the hope of an eternity with God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit.

Without dreams, there can be no hope. Without hope, life is misery. Misery paves the road to hell.

Every child is born with a dream. We start out in life, taking that first leap of faith with our eyes wide shut. Over time, life begins to barrage us with it's traps and snares; and that leap gets smaller and smaller. So, what happens to the person with dreams when life throws a curve ball? What happens to you then?

One day you're playing short stop in the now famous negro baseball league. You've been travelling around the country, relishing in your freedom. Thriving on the adulation of sports fans all over the country. Your dream propelled you to shoot for the stars and eventually, play for the national league, following in the steps of Jackie Robinson.

One day, you're in college. The first in your family to even enroll. Your mother only has a 4th grade education, but she has sacrificed everything to get you where you are today. You have been offered a position in New York city, an opportunity to sweep the dust of back country Mississippi roads off your feet and never look back. You've already completed a summer internship and the sights, smells and sounds of the Big Apple gnaw at you each and every day as you long for the school year to be over so you can return.

And then the shoe drops.

She's pregnant. Abortion is not an option. He's already had one child out of wedlock; it pains him to produce another one. She's already helped to raise her 12 younger brothers and sisters. She wasn't even planning to have children until she was at least 30.

They wait. He begs; she hopes. He pleads; she prays.

They marry.

What happens when dreams are deferred? bitterness, anger, resentment, depression.

Fists swing; pans fly. Words sting; love dies.

Words that cut deeper than knives. Loneliness, isolation. Looking for release. Desperate for hope.

And then it comes. Another opportunity to finish college. A chance at a good paying job; the first house purchased.

She's pregnant again. He suggests abortion.

Fists swing; pans fly. Words sting; love is dead.

Warning, rant ahead!!!

I will apologize in advance for this post. I have some family stress that I need to release. I like to think that I am over past hurts, that I have forgiven and forgotten and then something happens to remind me that at best, it's just a scabbed over wound. I have kept myself in emotional bondage by a lifetime of pretence that I was born and raised in a normal home. You know black folk don't talk about their mamas. If there is a problem, it has to be the child's perception and fault. This mindset has contributed to clinical depression off and on for several years of my adult life. But I'm done now.

My relationship with my mother has always been difficult. I love her, she is my mother after all. But I am ashamed to admit that if we did not share blood, she would not be someone I would ever associate with. There, I said it.

Ok, so here is the latest in a long line of crap I have had to take from her over the years. Some may know that my son is adopted. Truly, the BEST decision of my entire life; we struggle at times, but I would make the same decision over and over again. I didn't ask my mother's permission to adopt (I was well into my adulthood and a fully functioning independent adult, and so I didn't know that I needed to do so!). She continues to hold this against me. That's fine, that's her perogative, I suppose. I drew the line however when she started to express her anger at me onto my son. Hell to the F-, no!!!

When I confronted her about it, she declared that since she was not consulted in the adoption process, she did not feel that she needed to acknowledge him as a member of her family. She put me in a position that forced me to choose between my relationship with her and my son.

Anyway, we haven't spoken in almost 3 years.

This past summer, I was consciously working on releasing my anger towards her and trying to forgive her for this and other isht she has dished out over the years. So, she was invited to a party at my house on Memorial Day. She behaved herself, but I didn't like the way she looked at or interacted with my child and I couldn't blindly give my trust back to her and so conversations have been sporatic in recent months; typically, when she initiates.

Ok, I'm getting to the point. This past weekend, my 11 and 12 year old nieces spent the night with us. They are really great kids, my son adores them, they adore him; and between these pre-teens eating me out of house and home, we had a great visit!

The 12 year old and I were sitting out on the porch Saturday evening, just talking, catching up on school, friends, whatever. At one point, she asked me why I didn't take my son to visit with his grandmother anymore.

I took a sip of my soda, stalling, trying to think of a neutral response. I believe there are some things adults just don't need to talk to kids about. So, I stalled and asked her why she asked,

"Well, I just wondered. Grandma said that he wasn't her grandson."

I felt like she had hit me in the stomach.

"What do you mean? What are you talking about?" I asked.

Anyway, the short of the story is that my niece overheard her grandmother talking to someone about the total number of grandchildren she had. The 12 year old thought her grandmother had mis-counted and reminded her about my son. My mother's response to my 12 year old niece was,

"No, he's not my grandson. He's just adopted."

And rather than start cussin' and screaming like I wanted to, I asked my niece,

"Hmm, so what do you think about that?"

"She's wrong, auntie. He's my cousin."

I barely held back tears.

Here's where I have a problem: it's bad enough that she displaces her anger at me onto my child. But then to go to my sister's daughter, who is also a child, and try to sow discontent among the children is just foul! (and immature and petty and meanspirited and just plain evil!).

I needed to say this out loud and I apologize again that I am airing out family garbage, but I need to let this go. I have forgiven the woman who birthed me, but I will never forget, because this kinda hatred (and yes, this type of hostility reaks of hatred) runs deep. I was a child when it started, so I'm not sure what I did to initiate it; actually, no, scratch that. I'm not owning this. There is something wrong with a person who feels this type of hatred towards their OWN child. It runs deep and no amount of the occasional nice words she tosses my way will erase this. I won't forget, but I will pray for her and her damnable soul.

Forgiveness

I have been struggling with the concept for awhile. People generally consider me to be pretty laid back. I'm the one folk turn to when others are losing their heads. I rarely lose my temper and most of the time, I could care less what folk think about me or whether they approve of what I do or not. I just do me. . . you either deal with it or not. Your choice. So, casual strangers rarely get under my skin, even acquaintances or work colleagues have to work really hard to even get me irritated. You have to know that you are either family or close, intimate friends to get any kind of strong emotional reaction out of me. That means you're close; this means you know where the bodies are buried, that means you know where I live!! So when someone this close hurts me, man, it runs deep, hard and long. And unfortunately, it may take me some time to recover.

I know in my heart that it does me no good to hold on to my hurts and resentments. I know that God wants me to release them and move on. The bible says that we should forgive a brother seven times 70, right? But I have been asking God to help me to forgive some deep hurts. It's not happened and the only way that I've been able to maintain even a semblance of peace is to avoid the ones who have offended me. Ok, some of you may be thinking, well, that's all right then? But what do you do when the one who needs your forgiveness is your mother? your sister and brother?? I'm not trying to go to hell because I've dishonored my parents, but, dang!! Until recently, I hadn't spoken to my mother in 2 years and my life has been so peaceful. I came to the realization that if we didn't share a bloodline, my mother would not be a person I would even like to know, sad, I know. But am I really demonstrating forgiveness through avoidance? Or am I punishing her for past misdeeds?? When I get mad or hurt just thinking about her, I start thinking that I really haven't forgiven.

So, how do I do this? I've come to understand that forgiveness is not designed for the other person. Forgiveness is required to allow us, me, to be free from our burdens. My family isn't suffering because my feeling are hurt. My avoidance of them have not stopped their lives one bit. It's me, it's for ME that I need to let this stuff go. So, my prayers have changed somewhat. I am now asking God to allow me to reduce my expectations for my family. I'm asking that he allows me to see them as they are and to accept them, limitations and all. I need to recognize that they will never become the family I need them to be. And when I think about it, God has already met my needs for a support system, I have really good friends and most importantly, I have HIM!! My earthly family may not, no scratch that, they CAN'T be the folk I need them to be, but God is constant, never changing and always sustaining. I believe that when I fully accept this, forgiveness will come, and like with most strangers, they will never be able to hurt me again.