Category: Writing

Real talk: I will ask for you.

It’s not easy to ask. For, love.

No, it’s not easy, to ask, to be seen.

Yea, it sure aint easy, to ask, to be heard.

Yet, ask we must.

WE MUST!

I find myself hesitating, beloveds, to share this particualr part of me, of my heart. Not because I am ashamed. But, because some of those words contain memories best left in the past, or so I used to tell myself.

Okay. Okay! I am getting to the telling…*sigh*.

Since getting off work tonight I have been playing Mariah Carey’s version of “I Want To Know What Love is” on repeat. Over and over and over. Still listening to it now, truth be told. My heart just won’t leave me alone, these days. My heart keeps pestering me, nudging me, shouting at me to KNOW what love is.

Enough already! This, I tell to my heart.

Shut up, already! You bothering me. You keeping me from ignoring this void, this yearning to KNOW, dammit, what love is.

If I were to be honest, COMPLETELY HONEST, beloveds, my heart has been demanding my attention, on the matter, for aeons now, years now, decades, sadly, now. Only, she, my heart, aint going gently into some cold, goodnight. She, my heart, has had just about enough of my foolishness of ignoring her, my heart, in order to cater to the needs, to the hearts of the world, of others.

It’s what we do, us folk of color. Especially, us women of color. Yep, we have grown up learning we have to keep it shut, take care of all things menfolk, give every ounce of our dreams and ourselves to make sure our families, our jobs, our menfolk, our chillun has all of THEIR needs, THEIR hearts, THEIR goals, THEIR love, fulfilled. While, we waited until….

Only, our until never comes. What’s worse, if we have THE nerve to even hint about asking when our turn might be to ask, to have, to live, to love, to have love returned, to us, we get bashed upside the head with guilt, anger, or, what’s worse, indifference.

So, we learn to hide, in plain sight, behind:

Hard work.

Laughter.

Food.

Service.

Rinse.

Repeat.

And, it’s NOT that we don’t love to laugh, to work hard, to serve others. It’s just, just, just….

*sigh*.

It’s just easier, or so we lie to ourselves, to hide behind service, giving, working and telling ourselves that it’s okay to be forever not chosen, not seen, not heard. But, we KNOW, don’t we, the REAL truth? We, all of us, in some form or fashion, until we get some healing, are all bleeding, in plain sight.

It has taken me five decades, FIVE!, to learn, through the ever patient, the ever relentless love of God, for me, that I learned HOW to love me some me. As a writer, words are important to me. They always have been. I have ALWAYS had this yearning, to let folks know they were important, that they were loved. Even as a little girl. I was born with this calling I guess you can call it.

Ironic though because my parents were never word people. Mom showed her love through service. She cooked. She fed the neighborhood. She cooked for the church. My greatest memories are of hanging out, in the kitchen, as mom cooked for this one or that one or for us.

My dad was not a word person, either. His way of teaching was with the rod. Beat the hell out of, or into his kids, depending on how you looked at things. He also taught us, me, about hard work. About doing your best, about being the best. Always.

As a person of color, we ALWAYS had to be ten times better, we were told, in order to have a sliver of what white folks had. And, we had to keep our head down, keep it moving, keep it pushing. To this day, it it still necessary for folks of color to be better, try harder, just to get a scrap or two.

Yet, thankfully, this current crop of young folk of color and other races and aces, are, and have been teaching us old heads to go on ahead and ASK for things to be better, to get what we need. They are smart, these young ones. Yet, they still have so much to learn from us old heads….*sigh*…these young folks don’t understand that but for those, who kept it shut(of the mouth variety) is the very reason they can speak loudly and proudly now. They shall learn.

So, having parents who taught me to keep it shut, the world also helped to keep me silent, not asking for love, to be seen, to be heard. I’m not blaming my folks, or the world, for keeping me quiet. Truth be told, the real culprit was fear. Or, me of being afraid. To, ask. To believe that I was even worthy of love. Such a sad, sad thought to me, now. Such a foreign thing that I have ever spent a moment doubting my worth, my place, in the world.

Now that I have learned how to ask, I find myself wanting to ask for love for those who have not yet learned how to ask. I find myself wanting to ask for those who don’t yet know how truly priceless they really are.

I plan on doing a lot of asking, for a lot of folks. I am asking for love, for YOU, he/she/they eyes who view these words. I am asking for Love to love you so much and so hard that you will never doubt for another moment how truly you are loved.

Don’t worry, I got you. It’s okay, if you hide, still, behind work, behind food, behind laughter, behind service. I got you. What’s more, I won’t give away your secret. We shall know, though, your heart HAS been seen, has been heard, has been prayed for, has been thought about.

By, me.

By, God.

By, Life.

Hopefully, soon, by you.

By, others.

For now, now, of a surety that someone is asking, on your behalf, for all the love your heart can hold.

asking,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

ASK!

“I want to KNOW what love is”

“I want to feel what real love feels like”

“I want to dance with love and not run from it”

“I want love to pursue me, for once, and not just vice versa only”

“I want love to love me as fervently, as passionately, as I love”

“I want love to show me it’s joy, it’s passion, it’s soul”

“I want to spend every second, of the rest of my life, loving life and having life love me, in return”

*Cassandra sits and waits patiently for love, for Love, for life, for Life, to answer*

loving folk in the meantime,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

P.S. Life is so very short, beloveds. Ask!

54andcounting: Singing love songs to love. I just don’t know your name.

Ah, love. MY, love. Here, I am, singing love songs. To, you. In my undies. I know you, love. I just don’t know your name.

Fear tried to silence me. Tried to tell me you have no idea who or where, I am.

I told fear to go on ahead and kick them rocks, told fear, my love WILL show.

It’s okay, love, that I don’t yet know, your name. In not knowing, my heart is forced to keep going, to keep growing, til love starts revealing itself to me.

In the meantime, I shall be 54 and counting my way to you.

Take care of yourself for me, love. Til you find me, I shall give mine away to as many as will receive.

Til then, enjoy my song, free from fear. Receive, my love, freely given, from me, to you.

Love, what is your name? How much longer must I await you? No matter. I cherish each aching moment as I dream of all we shall share together.

Be well, love. Think of ME, as I sing, to you, not yet knowing your name.

Do you know mine?

in wonder,

Cassandra

54andcounting: Singing love songs in my undies, still.

54 and counting…

Still.

Singing love songs, in myundies, still.

54 and counting…

Still.

Hopeful, joyful, believing, love my find it’s way to me, still.

54 and counting…

Still.

Rejoicing, knowing, ushering light, into this heart of mine, still.

54 and counting…

Still.

Growing, being, doing, giving all the me that I can see, for all the world to see.

54 and counting…

Still.

How awesome is that?!😁

54 and counting,

Cassandra

Beloveds, don’t believe the foolish lie that your days are at their end. And, if they shall be, near end’s end, well, live each moment, asif it were thy last. For last, our days, shall not. Yet, you SHALL and WILL enjoy your days so long as you live, so long as you CHOOSE TO. CHOOSE you, CHOOSE love, CHOOSE hope. I hope. How bout you?

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Christmas: You gave me My Greatest Gift. You took away my greatest gift.

Christmas, ah, Christmas. You gave me My Greatest Gift, Jesus. On Christmas morn, My Best Friend, My Light, My Life, was born.

On that same precious day, o, beloved Christmas Day, you took my friend,  my mom, my light, my life, away.

Christmas, since 2016, I welcome you, I dread you coming, hope your stay is brief, pray you never leave.

Christmas, ah, Christmas, your cheerful voice lies. The gifts you bring, the songs you sing, o, Christmas, makes me want to sing along. I lie, to my heart, and say it’s okay she is gone. I tell my heart truth and say she had to go, she did not abandon you.

So, Christmas, as you draw nigh, forget not my greatest wish, that you tell my greatest gift, how very much I love her. How very much I love Him.

I look forward, now, dear Christmas, to your coming. Not, for the gifts you may bring. But, because of His Birth, which is the whole point of this thing.

HIS, Day. Now, HER day. Christmas, God gave you such AWESOME gifts on your day:

My, Bestie.

My, mom.

My friends.

Rest in peace, mom. As, I LIVE now, in peace. Loving you another way. I love you, mom. I hold your love, in my heart.

grateful for Christmas,

Cassandra

Note: For all who have lost a mom, a dad, a sibling, a significant other, a job held dear, something priceless, something precious, KNOW that you WILL be okay. Yes, the hurt hurts. Yet, you shall ALWAYS have the precious memories built by the love you shared with who or what you lost. In this, you can know you haven’t really lost. For, you have loved. You were loved. You can love still.

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Finally, found. Finally found.

Good evening, beloveds.

Yea, it’s me. Jaybird. Sweetpea. Cassandra.

I know. I know. I have been missing in action. Leastwise, from these pages. I have been searching for someone. Truth be told, beloveds, I have been in search for this person my whole life long.

I pursued this one, relentlessly, frustratingly, unknowingly. Alas, I knew not of whom I had and have been chasing.

I chased this phantom, this figment, through 54 uphill years.

Doggedly, unapologetically, painstakingly, I rushed after this one. This one, one that could, would, should change my life, change my world into that which my dreams forever shout at me to complete, have and do.

54 years and counting…

The years drop faster, my steps grow slower, time races, a crawl replaces, heartbeats lessens, silence defeans, as I strive to hear, to see, to be, near to…..???

Where o where, are you, I cry, I cry out.

Where?!

The cry, now a demand.

“I call”!

Tossing my heart, my hopes, my dreams, my fears, my tears, ALL that I have, know and see, I slide to the center of the table.

I have bet, me, you see.

Not knowing, if anything shall become of my bet. Not knowing if any, if anything, will see any value upon all that lies upon this velvet table called life.

Yet, I am no longer afraid that my heart, that my love, that my life, that my try, that my tears, that my fears, that my dreams, that me, just ME, will be chosen.

For, beloveds, I choose me. It no longer matters of you do not. I choose me. I love me. I see me. And, that is enough. Always has been. Ever true this shall be.

“I call your heart and raise it with My Life”

*Cassandra turns to see Jesus standing across from her, with a crown in His Nail-scarred Hands*.

“I call your heart and raise it with My Never-ending Love”.

*Cassandra turns and sees The Father who takes the chair on her left side.*

“I call your heart and raise it with My love”.

*Cassandra turns and sees her mom, sees her dad, sees her siblings, sees her friends take their place on her other side.*

Suddenly, finally, slowly, the one, the ONE, Jaybird, Sweetpea, and Cassandra had been looking for for 54 years and counting, tapped her on the shoulder and said…

“I accept.”

Cassandra smiled, recognizing, the touch, the soft voice, the comforting words. Trusting, without seeing, she leaned, finally, backwards, resting, quietly, on the confidently beating heart.

“Hello, my friend. Thanks for waiting for me.”

*Saying a heartfelt thanks to all those who had been there this whole time, Cassandra made to leave with one who had ALWAYS been with and for her and made off to see what the rest of her life contained for her*…

Huh?

Whatchamean who did I find? Didja actually think I would spill the beans so easily after it took ME 54 years, to find the one, to find the answer?!

Besides, beloveds, if your eyes have beheld the end of this tale, why, means you have, you are, on the same quest, on the same search. I can’t spoil your ending. It shall be delicious, beloveds, as you make your way, towards…

I can give you a hint. When you finally, intentionally, irrationally, irreverently, push ALL of you, ALL your chips, in the middle of the table, and bet on YOU…ah…*hugs self*…THEN you shall be witness to…

*Realizing she almost gave up the goods, Cassandra made her way out of the room and into the rest of her days*.

What will/would those days contain? I have NO idea. God knows, but He ain’t telling.

Finally found,

Cassandra aka Jaybird aka Sweetpea

#YourLifeMattersToMe

P.S. Life is short, beloveds. I haven’t blogged since Ashley passed away as she ALWAYS responded to my #YourLifeMattersToMe with a #YourLifeMattersToo. I wish my prayers, my care, my words, my shouting into the void could have, would have been enough to help her stay around until her heart healed. I promised her, though, that I would keep leaving the light on for others, that I would keep chair dancing for those who are not yet able.

Keep going, beloveds. Keep going…

Your life matters.

Dammit.

DAMMIT!!

Today, ALL day, it has been on my heart to let folks hear, see and KNOW that their lives matter. Matter to me. Just could not stop posting today. I did not want to save the words for tomorrow. I told myself that someone needed those words, my words, these words, TODAY.

Life has been hard for all of us these past years. Yet, for some, life has been unbearably hard for too long. Some, too damned many, have not been able to hold on, to hold out, to keep hoping, to keep on keeping on.

I rushed off of work so that I could go back and read some dearly missed WordPress fam/friends. Sadly, one of those dear/sweet WordPress friends could no longer keep going:

dignitymemorial.com/obituaries/vancouver-bc/ashley-peterson-10985838##

Ashley, beloved, you will be missed. So very much. I shall miss your telling me that my life also matters. I will miss the way you explained Mental Health issues in ways that I could understand. I will miss your updates. I will miss your humor. I will miss YOU. Period.

Dammit!

Ashley, I promise I shall continue to shout into the void, for folks who are not yet able to chair dance. I shall dance for them. I shall dance, in your memory. I shall dance, in hopes that these words, my words, will reach someone long enough for them to continue to hang on.

I miss you already, Ashley. I can not imagine how your family must be feeling at this time.

Your life matters, beloveds. Keep going. Reach out for support if you are in need of it. Don’t give up on you. Not yet. Not yet.

lost for words,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Carry the hell on.

Carry the hell on.

Carry the hell on. This saying makes me laugh. It also makes me determined to, well, carry the hell on.


Whether I feel like it or not, I carry the hell on.


Whether I want to or not, I carry the hell on.


When I miss mom so much I can’t breahe, I carry the hell on.


When I get angry at my diagnosis, I carry the hell on.


When I miss my young friend who had the damned nerve to die on New Year’s Eve, I carrry the hell on.


When life has gotten on my last nerves, grew more nerves and then got on THOSE last nerves, I carry the hell on.


When I am so lonely my skin feels as though it will break without a hug, I carry the hell on.


When my tears fall upon dreams not realized, still, STILL I carry the hell on.


When I don’t feel like getting out of bed, let alone working, I carry the hell on.


When my carry went on ahead and carried on minus me, I carry the hell on.


When I gave life/folks/love all that I had and they stared at me as though my had was not enough, I carry the hell on.


When the fruits of my labors have been eating by someone else, instead of me, I carry the hell on.


When I vainly did all and gave all in vain and vain simply shrugged and walked away, I carry the hell on.


When friends/fam refuse to carry the hell on with me, I carry the hell on.


When hell has made life hell for me and refuse to give me a glass of damned ice water, I carry the hell on.


When I have run out of ibuprofen from all the tears, hard work, and what in the fresh hellness of life won’t cease, I carry the hell on.

I do all this and more.


Why?


Cuz I am a bad MF, a scary mama jamma, a go on ahead and kick rocks kind of something something!
Ha!


Carry the hell on, beloveds.


We got this.


What’s more, God and Life has got us. How much safer/cherished/loved/blessed can you and I be?


Carry the hell on!

carrying the hell on with you,
Cassandra

I love you, wombie.

Nuff said.

your wombie,

Me

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

P.S. Can you believe we are going to be 54 on Thursday!?

Fresh hell.

lol

I know life is taking you every which way, some kind of way, a way I can’t go/see.

This, though, I know:

I love you, wombie.

Nuff said.

Carry the hell on…. 🙂

I just…am.

I just…am.

I will be 54 on Thursday.


Fresh hell.


LOL.

In all those years, in this last year of hard, I have learned that I am just…


I am just…well…I just am.


And, that is enough, it seems.


For, God.


For, Life.


For, those who truly love and care for me.


They have been trying to tell me this, it appears, my whole life long.


Sadly, I couldn’t hear them. Not really.


Fear, got in the way.


Rather, I allowed fear, to get in their way. My way. Our way.


No more.


I have given myself permission to just…


To just…be.


Me.


She, I, yea, we are enough.


For, me.


For, God.


For, Life.


For, those who truly love and care for me.


What of the rest, you ask?


The rest, can go on ahead and kick some rocks.


I just…am.

doing/being me,
Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe