MAKE DO WOMEN AUTHOR ~ UNKNOWN

When I was preparing to get married, I started getting all sorts of advice especially at bridal from family and friends. But one of the most interesting "lessons" came from a woman I met for the first time, just a few weeks before the big day. She said, "Honey, whatever you do, don’t ever let yourself become a "make-do" woman." I had no idea what she meant, but of course she was about to explain.

She continued, "men" don’t deny themselves anything. Whatever they want to buy, they buy. Whatever they want to do they do. Meanwhile, there is the wife, making do with her hair not being done, her clothes from yester-year, her nails in need, never had a pedicure, scraping the bottom of her tube of lipstick! Oh, I could go on and on with how "we" make do. And why? Because the car needs fixing, this bill is behind, we have to use our time to take care of this, or take care of that, we’re saving for this, working, cooking, cleaning, raising, etc." She warned me to never become a make-do woman, because she says if you start, it is hard to stop and one could easily find themselves making-do for the rest of their lives.

It’s not good to start something that you do not intend to finish. I vowed, it would never happen to me. I didn’t think much more of the conversation until one day I began to take notice, she was right. Men are a lot better at being good to themselves.

Some call it being selfish, there has to be another word for it. Tell me if you know. Whatever you call it. It will have it’s place. When they want to play ball, or golf, or fish, they go! When they want to buy clothes, or equipment, or video games, or whatever their "thing" is, they buy! Have you ever tried to stop one? Has anyone ever been able to stop one? Let me know! When I look around I see a whole heap of make-do women, married or not, with or without children, they are all over the place! I have decided that I am going to make my best effort to become a "make-time" woman!

I will make the time to do what I need to do to be good to myself, whether that’s a trip to the salon, or the gym, or the mall. This time I’m gonna take a lesson from the guys!

This was sent to me courtesy of "Roslyn". Roslyn sends me lots of women, girlfriend stuff. We started corresponding after our family tragedy the first part of this year and I sure thank her for the food for thought that she sends out. Remember we’ve got to share cause you just might be that light in the tunnel of confusion that we all travel through.

So Ladies how many of us have been there done that. I didn’t think of myself as a "Make Do Women until Forty Days and Forty Nights my soul just opened up. I had finally reached an age when I decided I had given enough of myself over the years to be deserving of taking the time to work on me. I must tell you this was met with great resistance from my family. I have been made to feel guilty for having this attitude by many family members, those that I thought would support me in this search for inner peace, for the run I was making to be a better me. It had me running in circles until one day I decided too heck with them na-sayers, because if not now when. I don’t want to spend the remaining days of my life feeling I had done it somebody else’s way. I no longer feel comfortable being

"A Make Do Women, how about you?

The Little Things

I don’t know how many of you out there watch Extreme Home Make Over, but it amazes me every week at the houses they build and the people they help. The little boy two weeks ago with the brittle bones, they gave him a life, and his own pool in his bedroom, or Job on last weeks show and the challenges he faces, this week granting a dying mans’ last wish for his family.

I was trying to think of somebody that would benefit from this show and then I listen each week to the amazing stories and remember my grandmother’s words, “I cried because I had no shoes till I met the man that had no feet”. When ever we think we got it bad, just look around and choose whose shoes you would want to walk in. It is not always the big things in life that leave a lasting impression but more times than not it is the little things that last forever.

For me the little things are what I cline to, like the smile on my grandbaby’s face when she looks up and suddenly see me. The sound of her voice ringing in my ears so full of innocence or starring into her eyes and seeing endless possibilities as this soul begins this journey called life.

Little things, little things, little things, like watching the flowers in this giant hanging pot on my front porch, they dance as the water reaches their roots, just a little bobbing up and down, or the new flower just starting to bloom on the tomato plant, soon to be a bright red juicy delectable fruit to be savored. Nothing tastes better than a fresh picked tomato with just a little bit of Johnny’s seasoning on it.

The little things, like being able to walk around the block with out having to stop for breath for still being able to swim a lap in the pool So many little things that we take for granted, The Little things.

A Moment In Time

I was sitting in my favorite easy chair and I must have doze just a bit. The doorbell awakens me and I fumble with the lock trying to open the door. I saw an older woman standing beneath the old oak tree with her back to me. She was dressed in casual clothes befitting to a woman of her age. Giving off an aura of wisdom and self-assurance. She saw me peeking at her from a far, not quite ready to open the door. Causally she plucked a chair it seemed out of thin air, putting her feet up as she took a seat. As I studied her there in the door; I could see the flecks of gray mingled in her hair. The tale, tale signs of laughter shared danced in her eyes. The slumped of her shoulders spoke of burdens born out of despair. Who was this woman and what did she want. A smiled played at the corners of her mouth as she said, "I’ll wait someday you’ll let me in".

With a wave of her hand I was transported it seemed back in time as I watched a little girl playing with her dolls. This child with an angel’s face smiled at me and asked, "Hey do you remember this place"? It was my mother’s house on a Sunday morning as I struggled to shake the wraps of being a little girl just starting her journey in this world. Yes indeed I did remember. Scenes from a different time reflecting back on the youth that was once mine. With a wave of her hand and now I stand in another moment frozen in time producing hologram pictures of the history in my mind. Quickly the picture changes to the delivery room where I first marveled at the recreation in birth. As I wonder why I am here my heart quickens her voice causes just a little apprehension. My spirit is calmed as she assures me she is not death, and not here to take me for that long rest.

Why then I asked her is she here? From me my child you have nothing to fear I have merely shown you who you were and how far you have come. It seems I must have fallen back to sleep for when I awoke it was with a sense of peace. My senses holding on to the fragment of a dream, it seems like it was important what ever it was. Someone has left the door ajar and I hear a voice that says never worry I’m not far. Remember me? I’m you that shooting star!

Velma

One of the first places I lived on my own was an old apartment building in Pasadena. It had to be one of the first built. There where a total of four apartments, two downstairs and two upstairs. Mr. Bates and Velma lived on the first floor and Susan and Clyde and us lived on the second floor.Ms Velma was a cute petite thing with a supervisor position with Pasadena Laundry I think it was called.. They washed all the linen for the big hotels and rich folks that didn't want to do their laundry.

This was in1968 and this was a big business, employing lots of local ladies and Ms Velma at risen to the top of where she was gonna go because of one major problem, Ms Velma was a drunk. She wasn't the lovable drunk either, Ms Lady would turn violent in a minute. Well as time went on and we got to know each other I found out a little bit of her background. She was raised in the South by her grandmother, one of those the cutest thing in town, dressed real nice and seem to have it all. She finished high school, real big in those days, met a man and got married.

Velma was pregnant almost immediately and gave birth to a beautiful baby girl she named Sunshine, she said cause her world was cloudy without her. Velma and husband broke up and she had to go back to work to support her and her child, daddy's were really sorry in those days and the woman had no recourse to collect child support. Well one day she comes home for lunch and running late she dashed out of the house. As she was backing up she her a thump and thought she had run over one of Sunshine's toys. As she got out of the car she saw a tiny hand sticking out by the back tire and there lay Sunshine under the wheels of the car. Velma the baby didn't even live to the hospital, she died in the ambulance.

My heart went out to her and I couldn't imagine the pain her heart must have felt. It seems Sunshine had learned to open the door and had followed her momma outside, such a little thing it was impossible to see her standing behind the car, truly an accident, but Velma never forgave herself. I moved away and didn't see her for awhile, come to find out Clyde had left Susan and was now with Velma, oh yea he was a drunk also. A drunk working in a liquor store, had to know that wouldn't last long.

I don't know what happen to Velma but I learned many lessons from her, one of which is as people we can do more harm to ourselves than anybody else ever could.

The Surgeon

Well we are off to see the surgeon in the morning..keep a positive thought working plz..

Good Sunday Morning

Good Sunday morning yall..God is giving my area a bath this morning and she must be trying to wake us up cause it is a freezing water she is using. Doesn't the world just look different after a good rain? Cleaner and fresher...when it is a gentle rain..cause ms rain can hook up with a few of her friends, lady hurricane and ms torrential rain and don't let them invite old man winter and his side kick blizzard, the seasons and nature are indeed marvels that never ceased to amaze me as I walk this winter road on the journey called life.

I spend a lot of time observing nature in my hood. a free show everyday if i just take the time to watch, no matter what the seasons and mother nature plus father time have a schedule to keep and you can't change the schedule. When it is time for winter, than winter it will be, the flowers will grow in the spring, thrive in the summer and prepare for sleep in the fall and the cycle continues.

I like to watch the birds, younger I just thought of them as birds", but my son made me start paying attention to them. I remember one day watching I think it was two hawks fighting over their prey in the air and it was a serious fight both were working with those feet. Both had one claw on the prize and they where swiping at each other with the free claw. One hawk slipped and missed while the other connected, the winner flying off with the prize. As above so below, kinda. How many times do we find ourselves in just that type of situation, we holding on to something so tight that if we "slip", it's gone. Sometimes it's just better to let it go, there'll be another time. Look at the lesson and file it away, but keep your eye out for that hawk. They'll surface one day yet again, be ready this time.

I Am Not Old

I can remember as a much younger person when I would comment on the age of another as boy you sure are old, and now at fifty-five I get that a lot which made me sit down and think, am I really old now? The answer I came up with is this:


Old I am not
Evolved I have become
But I am yet like the morning sunrays playing with the clouds
Seeking the warmth of yet another day
I am young like the morning dews first kiss of a fragile rose in bloom
I can be as strong as a hurricane wind
Or as gentle as a summer breeze
I have evolved from a stormy sea into a flowing stream
My roots are firmly planted in today
for I have lived the lessons of yesterday
while sowing seeds in hopes of a better tomorrow
I have held babies to my bosom for two generations and
Celebrated the exit of elders and young
I have known joys that bring tears to your eyes and
Sorrows that making breathing insane
I have evolved from a confused little girl to an
Elder with much to share
Old I am not
Seasoned I have become

I was one of the ones that always listened to the old folks when they talked, mainly cause they had such good stories to tell. Often I could close my eyes and envision the places and events they talked about. I can remember my momma and grandmother all talking about Central Ave in what is now called South Central LA late forties and early fifties when that is where black folks partied. These were the best clubs spotlighting the multitude of black talent living or visiting in the Los Angeles area. A Mecca of black owned and operated Ma and Pa business flourished in da hood.

My memories start in the late fifties and early sixties when the baton of ownership began to change from black owned to Chinese. I grew up on 51st Street and San Pedro, one block from South Park, the staging area for the National Guard during the Watts Riots. I lived walking distance from the first casualty of the riots and we had National Guards sitting on our front porch, one white and one black. I can remember my mother giving the black guard cold water from the fridge and making the white guard drink from the water hose, I did enjoy that moment, our stand for civil rights! Then in the late sixties and early seventies I again watched the baton of ownership pass from the Chinese to the Vietnamese and the number of black business moved to the Westside, those that were able to hang on and move with the flow of the times. Now in 2006 the baton has yet been passed again. Now you have middle easterners owing the businesses and the cultural make-up is the blacks that could not get out and the Mexicans that just got here. Now I am the elder telling the stories of times long passed, back in the day, but I had to live it to be able to tell it.

One of my fondness memories is when I told an older friend of mine that her ass was really becoming old. She smiled at me and cocked her head to one side and said, “Yep and if you’re lucky one day, an old bitch will walk in your door”, I see her coming up driveway yall and I welcome her with open arms! How many of you ladies know and understand that bitch is an art form and it takes years to master the art. I always strive to be the best at what I do. I am not old, just evolved.

Karma

I told you yesterday about my little adventure in the car, well fast forward sixteen years.

We are living in Cleveland, Ohio and I drive a school bus for The Bureau of Jewish Education (see Rich Folks); anyway our neighbor and landlord had an emergency and had to go out of town. They asked us to feed their fish for them while they were gone, to feed fish means they had to leave key to their house with us.

I am at work one Sunday morning and I get a call from home, it seems my eldest daughter decided to go for a ride in the car and her siblings go with her. She has no clue how to drive so they only go backwards and forwards. Her brother gets scared because she is going to fast; she knows nothing about the brakes. He opens the door which catches the side of the garage, demolishes the garage, destroys the front end of the car, as if this is not bad enough, they kill the fish.

Their father decides this won’t happen again and they learn how to drive, my babies learned early.

Do you think we had to move?

Watch for it, Karma ain’t no joke!

The Mustang

This past week I have been talking bout memories and of course if you talk about it the play button is set in motion. So here is one of those cases. I was a terrible confused and angry child and being “good” was a difficult thing for me to be. My very best friend had been invited to a party and this guy that I had a serious crush on was gonna be there. I begged and pleaded to my mom to please let me go. She was way over protective because she had lost one child and this added to my frustration.

Two long weeks of making absolutely certain that I followed all her rules and now the big moment was here. I had the outfit picked out, hair up in rollers, I was ready! Then the bomb dropped, she didn’t like where the girl lived, she wasn’t sure her parents would be good chaperones. I could not believe she was doing this to me; she had given her word, liar! To say that I was devastated would be putting it mildly, but going to the party yes I was.

I carefully invented a reason to be in her room and I eased the keys to the car, a Ford Mustang one of the first. I patiently waited for the house to go to sleep and I eased down the steps, slowly opened the front door and made my way to the car. I put the key in the ignition and put the car into drive. I didn’t know about easing on the gas pedal so I didn’t. BAM! I ran into the car park in front of us and it pushed into the car in front of it, but I am still going to the party, so I turn the steering wheel trying to make my get away, I turn it to hard and step on the gas. BAM! I run into the house across the street from us and if they didn’t have a wall in front, I would have ended up in their living room.

Everybody comes running out of the house; I just sit in the car. I can feel her before I see her, my momma standing at the window. She doesn’t say anything; she just gives me the look and then looks at our house. I slowly walked back across the street and up the stairs, she is gonna kill me. I walk up the front stairs and down the back stairs, over the back fence and on to the party. I walked four miles at night in South Central L.A. to the party. When I got to the party it was just turning out and everybody was leaving, I had maybe 5 minutes there. As we are leaving I am walking with my best friends brother and a police car drives up and I hear this cop call my name, I keep walking. He shines the light on me and I stop. He says aren’t you Madelyn and I say no and give them the name of my best friend and I proceed to tell them that Madelyn’s mother just picked her up. Satisfied they have done their job they drive off.

I was captured the next day by my best friend’s mom and returned home, my mother didn’t speak to me for six months and I do mean she didn’t say anything, nothing at all.

On the other hand, Karma ain’t no joke, gonna tell you that one next time.