Movies evoke all kinds of emotional. The emotional I feel the most is regret. You always hear folks says, “I regret nothing”, but with me, that’s not the case. I was just watching a movie called A little Bit of Heaven with Kate Hudson. ¾ of the way through the movie I had decided that this was an hour and 15 minutes I couldn’t get back, until the end. See the premise of the movie is a women dying of cancer and she gets three wishes from God (played by Whoopi Goldberg). She wishes for 1 million dollars and she wished to learn how to fly—but she’s stuck on the third one. Kate Hudson character doesn’t quite know what she wants the third wish to be, so she is sent back to earth to find out. When her character finds out she’s terminally ill and there is no hope, she begins this journey. I began to sob uncontrollable when she and her mother had their heart to heart moment. Her mother (played by Kathy Bates) had put up with her attitude the whole movie, now the time had come for her to realize her daughter was in fact dying. It made me think of my mother. A smart enough women, funny, witty and addicted to crack cocaine my entire life. I started to wonder, will I ever heal the wound that has been left by mother? Can I ever truly forgive her for all she done? Do I want to forgive her? Forgiveness is hard, being mad is easier. In the movie the characters father was as she put it, “emotionally constipated”, incapable of showing or giving love. In her climatic scene with her on screen father she explains to him that he should know how to fix there rift, and in common movie magic, he says the right thing and he is forgiven for all past transgressions. Only of it were that easy.
My father, 30 years older than my mother, was physically, mentally
and emotional abusive. A hard man from Texas, he decided to use the rod to
get his point across. When I was a child he would call me ugly, black,
stupid and skinny. Doing wonders for my self-esteem you could imagine. Now
he’s dying. My father has never said sorry. He has never even acknowledged
the fact that he did anything wrong. I hated my father. Hated. Him. Now
that’s he’s dying I feel obligated to forgive him. I think he doesn’t
deserve me or my siblings forgiveness.
27 years of what some might call a hard life. I am lucky or blessed,
whatever you prefer. This movie moved me because it took her until her
death bed to forgive the people that hurt her the most. I don’t want
that to be me. Liberation from my nightmares and pain is what I seek. I
don’t think I’m strong enough. Not yet anyway.
Sitting in the semi dark of my apartment, I try to remember how it all got so out of hand. When did my family take a turn for the worst? Some say writing is theraputic, I disagree. In some ways I disagree. On one hand writing it down is just a way to constantly relived all the fucked up situations at this point. Also, on the other hand, it's a way the dissect the situation and evaluate it, attempting to make sense of it. I've chosen to do a little of both. Perhaps at this point i should count my blessings:
I have a home
I am continuing my education
I have my health
I have some family who I can depend on (opposed to none)
I have a job
I have my Grandmother
I have books to read (and I can read them)
I feel that I am loved and I love
I have food to eat
Even though I am alone, I know the ancestors walk with me; guide me and keep me.
I have music.
So, even though my life might seem crazy, I have plenty to be thankful for.
-Thank you master for my soul
Shontrice R. Williamson
Energy from the very beginning, just didn't know which kind.
Light hearted conversations that were always meant to be more, but how much more? Because of our actions, am I even allowed to continue on with that line of questioning? Can anything inkling of energy be saved and cultivated? Reckless actions got me wondering what were your intentions from the start; mine as well. Your silence is all that was needed to confirm what it was you wanted. You asked me what I wanted, would I scare you away if I said, that it was you? How can I be sure if what I want is you? Maybe, I don’t want you—maybe I want what it is you have to offer.
Penetration was never necessary, intimacy was what I wanted…but you gave unselfishly something more. You made me think clearly in a confused hour. Made me feel beautiful and safe, in what could've been an ugly, dangerous moment. Held me. That alone harnessed some of that energy you spoke of. I guess I'm just trying to say that if it all stopped here, I could accept that. I could accept the fact that this isn't the type of energy you wanted. You asked the ancestors and now I will. After all I've said, I'd be a lie if I said I didn’t want one more kiss, one more hug, one more look—a little bit more of that energy.