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Living To Love Only To Die?

I can’t sleep tonight. My mind, heart and soul filled with worry, hurt and anger. I been trying to manage with things by staying busy but between Mel son sending me a msg just saying “Auntie Dee ” and my heart sank  because he was a baby when Mel was killed and haven’t ever called out to his Daddy and received a response.I’m so angry that  no one helping with solving  Brandon’s murder and thinking of Dana, who will never see her baby boy again. I see my Noelle post a picture of her unborn baby, I try to be happy looking at a new life, but am quickly reminded Darel is gone and she’s a young widow and  its Thanksgiving and even though she wasn’t the same from dementia, she was with us and this will be our 1st year without Momo….my heart just hurts and I’m mad at the same time…

 We go on with life, half way fucked up from just being alive dealing with death of a loved one. We are born, we develop bonds and love for our family and friends, we grow up to go live on our own, add more relationships to our lives and during living we have to say goodbye to all these people we love…… It just doesn’t seem fair. 

The realization of it all has me worried about my family, my children and grandchildren. I don’t want them to feel this pain, this hurt so deep in my soul, the madness in my mind trying to make sense of it. I don’t want this for them. I buried my baby, she was a month old and would be 27yrs old on Aug. 10th.. It took the breathe from me.  I didn’t want to live with that pain that imagine of my tiny baby, laying in a white coffin with satin lining looking like a baby doll. Lord, please understand this pain.

When my Daddy died of lung cancer, I heard the news of him having cancer at the same time hearing he was gonna die. It was days before Christmas 2003 and I had to leave my young children behind, taking back some of their toys to go say goodbye. He died the 29th of December, not giving me any time to process his illness. I was broken for years even now I have my days. I get angry, because he said he was taking me,  my sister and our children to Disney the following month… I was so angry at him and at God. 

I’m angry now, because my family has two unsolved murder victims, they, we have no JUSTICE and I know the people don’t care, but what about God?

I can get on my knees and beg, make promises to God to be the best person ever, but that won’t keep the pain of death away. It won’t keep me or my family members from suffering. I’m not sure what to ask God. Should I pray that He let the next death be from illness, because murder and accidents kill our souls. It hurts and I hope God can feel our pain and cover us, cover you and your family. 

My Momo said to me since I was a lil girl and especially when I was going thru trials she would say “Deatra, you have favor with the Lord my child, you are so special to Him, just call Him, He will answer.” I’m so unsure right now and I hope He can hear me even while Im silent, because my soul can’t utter a word, but pain…. Maybe this favor she saw in me is still in me after her death. Maybe, a prayer, just maybe He will hear me and help my family. 

Do we live only to die? How is that living? How is it fair? 

A native of New Orleans, who left her beloved New Orleans to spend twenty years of living in the land of Minnesota Not So Nice. Minnesota was full of opportunities but would learn that the soul of the state and the people who made it was just as icy cold as the temperatures. After the years and my 40th birthday flew by, I decided it was time to pack up my youngest child and come back to my roots, my birthplace the city that not only birthed me but gave me life. I would not be who I am without my New Orleans beginnings. I am all things that would challenge the belief of growing up in New Orleans. I was a 16yr old teen mother of a premature baby born with a severe medical disability. And only With the help of my mother, was it possible for me to BE! I was able to endure and survive the obstacles laid before my child and me. In a city that was built by my family, but did not allow for us to reap the benefits I overcame. Charity Hospital was my second home — a building filled with miracle workers who made it possible for my daughter to have life. I have lived a life of rainy days with peeks of sunshine, that are my children, including those not of my womb. I'm the proud mother of three and a grandmother of three. My dream was to live the life of the nursery rhyme of ”The Old Lady Who lived in a shoe,” and for the most part, I did. I cared for several children over the years as a special needs foster parent. I would learn that my love was not enough for some children, but I loved them through their pain. I'm not sure if I ever had a case of true love or came close to what love looks like on television, but I had my share of men and the mirage of love. I survived two abusive marriages. Though I longed to return to New Orleans on a daily bases, I must admit my move was one of the best decisions made for me. I am a college graduate; I was a successful entrepreneur. I coowned a soul food restaurant and catering company in Minnesota for 12 years. I developed the talent of creating custom cakes after the murder of my beloved cousin Melvin Paul. He survived Katrina only to go to Minneapolis six months later to be murdered over a parking spot dispute. But with the challenge of creating a simple wedding cake, I was able to find healing. I created the House of Cakes in honor of him. Minnesota life had me pretty materialistic. I worked to the point I do not remember much, but work and handing my children love money. I thought by having the big house on the hill, a husband, having a family, the ultimate provider and being involved in all things that matter, plus having the funds to match would cure me of what I was told was a generational curse of lack of everything from money, love to even self-love. But for the most part, that life poisoned my heart and soul. I was blinded by visions fed to me by the media. I was told I wasn't anything unless I was better than the Jones's. I lived being ok with a broken, bleeding heart. Life like this did not exist in my family while living in New Orleans from what I viewed with my eyes and soul. We may not have had all the things I acquired over the years, but we were happy, we were together. Family outside of New Orleans wasn't family anymore. We lived separate lives and had awkward moments when we bumped into each other in public. I hated living in Minnesota even though life their helped me in so many ways. I felt deep down the only way to repair it was to get back to my roots, my soul, my home, myself, my New Orleans. I'm here, and I love it. Even being in the so-called Blighted Area of New Orleans and not having all the financial and material security, I'm happy. I am determined that She, yes, New Orleans is a woman is just like me; together, we will overcome and will rise from all that tried to kill our spirit. Nothing like starting from the bottom and making your way back up!. I just know in my heart that New Orleans will provide for me. There's a bank account with funds in it owed to me by way of back pay for my ancestors. And I will receive my inheritance, and I will continue the traditions and customs of the old to keep the heartbeat of New Orleans beating. I'm down in the boot, living the life that feels right to me awaiting my destiny...

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