I remember sometime in early 1992 feeling the complete jubilation that any first time bride would feel. I rode cloud nine like a slippery slide to ecstasy. Like any young bride to be, my first call was to my mother, "Momma I am engaged! He asked me to marry him!" And then I rambled, rambled, rambled, hardly taking a single breath with minute details of the big day. I was lost in elation. When I finally came up for air, I was met with these words....."Why are you trying to fly so highfalutin?"
I caught my every jubilant thought in my throat. My tears, cloaked back by complete shock. My next instinct frozen in place, cast in a concrete placard of pain. Words, once escaped that can't be walked back. Like a line in the sand, I was on notice, called out by none other than my own mother. Careful, proceed cautiously, don't hurdle over generational pain. First my dear daughter knock on the door of my pain, and I alone will grant you passage! Don't presume how this story will end......
Are we done yet? PART ONE
I caught my every jubilant thought in my throat. My tears, cloaked back by complete shock. My next instinct frozen in place, cast in a concrete placard of pain. Words, once escaped that can't be walked back. Like a line in the sand, I was on notice, called out by none other than my own mother. Careful, proceed cautiously, don't hurdle over generational pain. First my dear daughter knock on the door of my pain, and I alone will grant you passage! Don't presume how this story will end......
Are we done yet? PART ONE
RSS Feed