To keep with my theme and motif of writing around Valentine’s Day I’m gonna share another story. Tomorrow will probably be another story as well. So here’s this one…
I used to hate Februarys. I can only say that I don’t anymore because of Cydney. It is the month in where Murphy and his dumb ass Law wreak havoc on my life and dare I say it the only month of the year I am emotional. Actually, Last February was a break from this because everything was cool but I still hate the month as a whole.
In February of 2009 Timile and I had been broken up for a couple of months. I was going through it at the time. I was unemployed and hustling at whatever temp job I could get my hands on. Bussing down motorcycles one day, selling Owens Corning isolation at another, helping my aunt with MS take care of her 95 year old husband by doing things around the house. Anything to get money and keep my mind off of the fact that Timile was back in Virginia in another relationship before the dust could have even settled with us.
I had some good friends who held me down during that time. My boys Kofi and J Rob would hang out at Rocky Mountain Pizza by Georgia Tech on a regular basis. Valentine’s Day came up and Kofi called me up saying him and J Rob were coming through to get me and go get pizza. My good friend Chase was in law school at the University of Georgia in Athens and drove down to come and kick it as well. They knew it would be a pretty rough day so they kept me busy. We drank pitchers of beer (that was normal) and just talked shit. After we went out to a friend of Chase’s birthday party, drank some more and eventually called it a night.
I didn’t think about whatever was going in Virginia at all until I got home. For the first or second time ever in life I threw up after drinking (beer before liquor never been sicker). I threw up as soon as I got home, and watched A Different World on DVD. That show summed up my collegiate experience to a tee because 1) The show was based off of where I went to school and 2) Dwayne Wayne was from New York and Whitley Gilbert was from Virginia and in many ways our dynamic was just like theirs (I shouldd’ve done a post about this a long time ago but I got y’all next week maybe). I wasn’t particularly sad at the time but then I got a phone call. It was my grandmother on my mom’s side. It was late and she said “I was just calling to say Happy Valentine’s Day.” She knew that Timile and I had broken up but she didn’t say so. She didn’t know Timile was seeing someone else. SHe just intuitively called knowing that I needed that. I went to sleep shortly after that and felt good.
I bring this story up because my grandmother that called me that night is dying. Like it would be a miracle if she makes it to next Wednesday. Honestly, I think she’s leaving us on Sunday. That’s my guess. My grandfather died the Sunday after Valentine’s Day in 2001 so I think that’s pretty right on. I grew up three blocks away from my grandmother in Queens. I was very close to her. I have been having a little of a difficult time seeing her because how things have been looking now is reminding me a lot of Timile and how she looked in her final days or the last time I saw her. Pretty much just skin and bones, heavily medicated, not much to say as if the spirit had already left the body and what was left was tired and just waiting to expire. I could go on and on but I don’t want to make y’all cry.
About a week and a half ago was the last time I saw my grandmother. She was till somewhat herself and trying. We had a conversation and she attempted to braid Cydney’s hair one last time because I think she knew that was going to be it. I braided it to show off my skills to the woman that braided my hair all through high school so she could see how far I’ve come along. We talked about everything. I told her what I’m currently working on and what my plans are for the future. She asked me how was it going with a friend of mine who lives in the smallest of the five boros, told me to be nice to her, be supportive, and that people who care like that about my daughter like that don’t come along too often so keep that in mind. When I left I told her I’d see her later and while I knew it would never happen I said “It’d be nice if you got to meet her.”
She said “Well, I ain’t going anywhere,” but we both knew that’s not true.
So before she goes I’d like to give my grandmother one last rose while she is living.
For those who may feel a little saddened after reading this: I have something to cheer you up. Yesterday I was reprimanding Cydney for not acting right. She started crying. She then took it upon herself to walk over to me, put her back up against me, farted on me, and laughed. She knew that would make me not so mad at her….