#DearMomma

#MyMomma was a lot of things to a lot of people..

she was one of Rev. Jesse Jackson's secretaries at Operation PUSH.. i spent a lot of my early years in that office, and in the church.. former Chicago Mayor - Eugene Sawyer, was a member of our church.. the Sawyers were also Board Members of our church (and later on in life, it was a blessing to work with the Board as we thought through developing a campus on our Promised Land).. Eugene Sawyer took over as the Mayor after Mayor Harold Washington (also came through our church) suddenly passed away.. i still remember it.. i was 8 at the time..

we had so many famous folks coming into our church, it was ridiculous.. and there i was - in many of the pictures.. just a baby.. just a child.. yet, i was there.. soaking it all up.. realizing my privilege on the struggling #SouthSide of #Chicago..

we didn't have much, but Momma always made a way..

my life now? knowing a bunch of celebs and stuff.. or even in the work that i'm known to do now - it's still the same skill set.. i was raised around some powerful Black leaders, and my Momma was right there.. all of them saying glowing things about her.. i mean, way back when - Momma was fooooine (fine).. skin flawless.. hair laid.. that was my Momma.. she had some eyes and a smile.. yet, she was so much more..

i inherited a lot from her.. a lot.. i stole what i didn't inherit.. studied her like she was my life-long exam.. good, bad and indifferent.. i needed to know.. i needed to figure out what i was made of.. and i did.. i figured it out.. a minute ago.. it's that moment when my life changed.. when i realized that it wasn't me, it was her.. she laid the blueprint, and gave me the key..

y'all don't like me, y'all love her..

she allowed me to become a storyteller, even when the world glowed about my math and science abilities.. i told her stories.. i told my siblings stories.. i watched, and retold stories, but from my point of view.. and in my family, it hit.. they were my first audience, but my Momma was my first Talent Manager.. i was shy kid, but she had me singing solos in church.. she had me playing the piano, clarinet and saxophone.. she took me to football practice, when my family was full of basketball players.. she showed me that i can be unique..

spelled my name with an e, instead of an i..

my middle name was taken from a former MLB (Chicago White Sox) pitcher.. she was in the hospital, and saw LaMarr Hoyt pitching.. he was traded to the White Sox in 1977, from the NY Yankees (there's a connection there).. when i was 5, he won the Cy Young Award.. i can tell you a lot about a white pitcher that will never know me, but formed part of who i would become.. the fact that i studied this man (knowing my Momma chose a different way to spell it - Lamar, for me), way back then, and saw him have quiet success - shows you something.. the funny thing, though? the next season, he had the most losses (catch that) - which stands as a record for a Cy Young winning pitcher.. the season after that, they traded him to San Diego for Ozzie Guillen and some others.. Ozzie became one of my favorites.. he was brought in for a man i was attached to.. there's something deeper there, but i'm just going to let that marinate with y'all.. just shows you that i know me - every fabric of me..

it's because my Momma allowed me to feel like every part of me mattered.. again, we were both stubborn.. we both knew how to ignore one another.. we both knew how to hurt one another.. we both knew that no matter what, we had an eye on one another..

my pain isn't based on missing my Momma.. it's living with her love in abundance, in childlike abundance.. and knowing that with all that she taught me, with all that i took from her - i will never find the type of happiness that i had when i was a child.. my happiest moments of my life were from those formidable years.. forget the fame.. forget the relationships.. forget the money.. forget the accolades.. forget the degrees.. forget all of that.. none of that made or makes me as happy as i was when i was a child.. back then we were food stamp poor.. we were hand-me-down poor.. we were white cereal boxes with black letters poor.. but, damn, you couldn't tell me that we weren't rich..

#LetItMarinate #NoLosses

#DearMomma #CurlyHeadedBabyBoy