This is pretty long, but I thought I would post it anyway. I know most of you are already familiar with my story, but for those that are not...
Have a great one. (day, week, month, year)
Miss Angela L. Braden
Changed Forever
When challenged with the task of writing about an event that impacted my life so dramatically to the point of causing a shift in how I view the world and how I engage myself in it, so many life-altering events come to mind. In particular, the first and most obvious experience that springs forth in my mind is the dreadful process of losing all my eye sight during my adolescent years. There’s clearly not another event that has single handedly and so massively changed the course and texture of every aspect of my life and how I choose to live my life. In fact, I am left only to imagine how my life would be if I had not contracted glaucoma, the thievish disease that robbed me of my sight. One thing I am certain of is that life as I knew it and expected it to be changed forever when I was diagnosed with glaucoma. The responsibilities of learning how to drive a car, looking out of the window of a jet as it soars forty thousand feet above the earth, and being able to admire my reflection in the mirror were converted into impossibilities when the darkening veil was draped over my eyes.
I was only ten years old when tragedy slithered its way and introduced itself to me. Before any perceivable warning, glaucoma began its very vicious attack on my young eyes. The dreadful thing about Glaucoma is that it often can permanently destroy parts of the optic nerves without being detected, which most of the times results in significant, permanent vision loss. Unfortunately, that is exactly what happened to me.
While in the fifth grade, I was afforded the very exciting opportunity to go on a week-long camping trip in East Texas with my classmates. Upon arriving at the campgrounds, I immediately noticed the towering pine trees that guarded each side of the dirt roads, the crystal clear sky, and the strange yet beautiful flowers that grew like vines around the massive trunks of the trees. There was something else that became strangely apparent to me after arriving at the camp. As I cautiously hiked along the muddy trail to the log cabin that I, along with six other ten year old girls, would call home for the week, it seemed that the clarity in the colors of the leaves and wildflowers was not as defined as I expected them to be. Low hanging branches were discovered only when I walked into them. My ability to discern dry ground from puddles of muddy water was impaired. To say the least, my ability to independently navigate, without incident, had been seemingly altered overnight. However, I didn’t know why.
With good reason, I experienced a great deal of trepidation when traveling throughout the campgrounds. No matter how careful I tried to be, I stumbled into one accident after the other. I was either stepping my brand new, white sneakers into a puddle of murky mud, getting clawed in the face by hanging limbs, or tripping over large stones and fallen branches.
The mystery of why I couldn’t see was baffling. Fear, confusion, embarrassment, and anger took turns visiting me while I was at the camp. I was scared and concerned for my safety. Likewise, I was embarrassed that I couldn’t manage to take a step without stumbling or losing my balance.
Children being the cruel, little people that they are so capable of morphing into tormented me with their jokes and ridicule. The more they laughed, the more I stumbled, and the more I stumbled, the more they laughed. The kids managed to keep my embarrassment heightened. I grew angry at the children for laughing and taunting me, rather than being concerned. Even my classmates, who knew me all of our school-aged-years were laughing and making jokes about me the entire trip.
After three days of observing my unusual clumsiness, the directors of the camp contacted my parents to tell them about the problems that I appeared to have with my sight. My parents did not hesitate to travel to the out-of-town location of the camp to come and rescue their child from whatever was happening to her at the camp. My mother immediately took me to an ophthalmologist, thinking that I only needed a prescription for some glasses. Although my parents were right about me needing glasses, they were completely oblivious to why my sight was being impaired.
After arriving at the doctor’s office, a nurse was instructed to run a battery of tests on my eyes. With each test, the nurse’s pleasant mood drifted and became more solemn and grim. After the tests, a strikingly tall doctor came into the tiny office and spent what seemed like an eternity peering into my sick eyes. The doctor walked over to his desk and released a frustrated sigh. The words that followed massively changed my life from that moment on. The doctor looked at me and then over to my mother and announced, “Angela has glaucoma.”
Suddenly, silence dominated the room and held all of us hostage. I inhaled and my eyes raced back and forth over the doctor’s small examination room. I looked at my mother, the shiny medical equipment that stood around me, the fading vision chart that hung on the wall over by the door, down at my innocent feet, the doctor and then back at my mother. I saw my mother’s brown eyes widening with every second that slowly crept by. I looked back at the doctor, who somehow managed to lock his eyes on both my mother and I, without flinching.
The doctor broke the silence and repeated his diagnosis. Tears formed in the corners of my mother’s deeply concerned eyes. He informed us that I had already permanently lost some of my sight and would likely lose more sight if we didn’t aggressively combat the glaucoma.
I stared at my doctor in disbelief. He continued to explain the diagnosis. The words were lost in the firestorm that erupted in my mind. I saw his mouth moving, but heard no words. I was being consumed by the fear of being blind. I couldn’t believe that what the doctor was describing was actually happening to me. I trapped the air that I inhaled in my lungs and insisted that my tears didn’t escape from my sick eyes. Then suddenly, the air from my lungs broke free and my salty tears leaped from the corner of my eyes and blurred the sight that I did have left.
Whether or not I was emotionally prepared for what was to come, the doctor’s diagnosis was the beginning of a seven year battle to retain a fraction of my fading sight. Despite fourteen eye surgeries and countless visits to the finest eye health professionals in the country, the glaucoma was successful at robbing my eyes of any sight by the time I was seventeen years old.
Before I started losing my eye sight, I was a vibrant child who was interested only in playing games, reading books, and observing the beauty of nature. Up until that point, hardship and tragedy were foreign. I was truly living the carefree life that all children should get a chance to live.
That carefree life was violently interrupted by the terror of losing my sight. I was forced to deal with the reality that I would be blind for life.
My exposure to tragedy at such a young age helped me better understand that life was not only a place to have fun and relax, but it is a place to work hard, recover from the injuries of tragedies, and find hope in a crisis. After I started losing my sight, I slowly but surely began to understand that what I once thought would be my life was now shattered under the weight of being blind forever. After nearly four years of throwing pity parties, I burst the balloons, vacuumed the confetti, and decided to stop feeling sorry for myself. I gathered myself and determined that I was going to succeed no matter what life was to bring. I got focused and made up my mind to remain focused in the turbulent times.
I’m still a person that enjoys to play a game or two, experience the pleasures of life, and to read a good book. But I also know that life demands each one of us to face the inevitable, trouble. I feel like my brush with hardship at such a young age prepared me to deal with life as an adult with dignity and strength. I am indeed blind; and yes, losing my sight was certainly a tragedy. However, I refuse to allow this tragedy to define my life and impair how I choose to navigate through it.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
An Article I Found Regarding Glaucoma and African Americans
Nationwide Survey Indicates African-Americans Not Prioritizing Eye Care
According to a recent national survey, African-Americans are not making vision care a priority for themselves or their children, reports Derrick L. Artis,
O.D. Many health and vision problems disproportionately affect African-Americans. Glaucoma is the leading cause of blindness among African-Americans, and
is five times more common in African-Americans than in European-derived populations. Because of this, it is particularly important for African-Americans
to have regular eye exams.
More than 3,700 adults of varying ethnic backgrounds (African-Americans, Hispanics, Asian-Americans, and Caucasians) expressed their attitudes toward, perceptions
of, and experiences with vision care in the nationwide Americans’ Attitudes and Perceptions About Vision Care survey, which was conducted by Harris Interactive
on behalf of The Vision Care Institute of Johnson & Johnson Vision Care, Inc.
More than nine out of 10 African-American respondents (93 percent) agreed that maintaining proper vision is an important priority to them. Yet, 21 percent
said they do not have a regular eye care professional and one-quarter (24 percent) said it has been more than two years since their last eye exam.? Almost
one-third (30 percent) of African-American parents surveyed reported that their child has never seen an eye care professional. ??
National Glaucoma Awareness Month in January is a reminder to schedule an eye exam for yourself and your child. Some vision conditions, like glaucoma, have
no symptoms until the disease is advanced. Visiting your local eye care professional and having a comprehensive dilated eye exam at least once every two
years can reveal risk factors, slow disease progression and save vision.
Source: HealthNewsDigest.com
According to a recent national survey, African-Americans are not making vision care a priority for themselves or their children, reports Derrick L. Artis,
O.D. Many health and vision problems disproportionately affect African-Americans. Glaucoma is the leading cause of blindness among African-Americans, and
is five times more common in African-Americans than in European-derived populations. Because of this, it is particularly important for African-Americans
to have regular eye exams.
More than 3,700 adults of varying ethnic backgrounds (African-Americans, Hispanics, Asian-Americans, and Caucasians) expressed their attitudes toward, perceptions
of, and experiences with vision care in the nationwide Americans’ Attitudes and Perceptions About Vision Care survey, which was conducted by Harris Interactive
on behalf of The Vision Care Institute of Johnson & Johnson Vision Care, Inc.
More than nine out of 10 African-American respondents (93 percent) agreed that maintaining proper vision is an important priority to them. Yet, 21 percent
said they do not have a regular eye care professional and one-quarter (24 percent) said it has been more than two years since their last eye exam.? Almost
one-third (30 percent) of African-American parents surveyed reported that their child has never seen an eye care professional. ??
National Glaucoma Awareness Month in January is a reminder to schedule an eye exam for yourself and your child. Some vision conditions, like glaucoma, have
no symptoms until the disease is advanced. Visiting your local eye care professional and having a comprehensive dilated eye exam at least once every two
years can reveal risk factors, slow disease progression and save vision.
Source: HealthNewsDigest.com
January is Glaucoma Awareness Month.
While poking around on the internet, I found out that January is Glaucoma Awareness Month. That news immediately grabbed my attention. Why? Well, I'll tell you why. I have Glaucoma. In fact, Glaucoma is the theif that robbed me of all my eye sight. Glaucoma is a merciless disease that sneaks up on its victims and takes them down before they realize it.
That's why eye health professionals have made sure that the month of January is dedicated to increasing the nation's awareness of Glaucoma and its dreadful effects if it is not detected early and properly treated.
Make a new year resolution. Make an appointment to get your eyes checked. Take a loved one to get an eye exam. Early detection is one of the keys to beating Glaucoma. An estimated 3 million Americans have glaucoma and many of them are at risk of going blind because they are not diagnosed. Don't be one of those that is forced to face blindness because of late detection.
Who's mostly at risk of getting Glaucoma?
Those with a close relative with Glaucoma...
African Americans
People over the age of 60
People with Diabetes
People with hypertension
Steroid users
For more information about Glaucoma check out the Glaucoma Research Foundation's website. www.glaucoma.org
That's why eye health professionals have made sure that the month of January is dedicated to increasing the nation's awareness of Glaucoma and its dreadful effects if it is not detected early and properly treated.
Make a new year resolution. Make an appointment to get your eyes checked. Take a loved one to get an eye exam. Early detection is one of the keys to beating Glaucoma. An estimated 3 million Americans have glaucoma and many of them are at risk of going blind because they are not diagnosed. Don't be one of those that is forced to face blindness because of late detection.
Who's mostly at risk of getting Glaucoma?
Those with a close relative with Glaucoma...
African Americans
People over the age of 60
People with Diabetes
People with hypertension
Steroid users
For more information about Glaucoma check out the Glaucoma Research Foundation's website. www.glaucoma.org
Saturday, January 20, 2007
"They sure did train you good." What a thing to say.
It really amazes me how people open up their mouths and let whatever they want to come flying out of it. Which is more powerful, the mouth or the mind? Of course the mind is. In fact, the mind should control the mouth. But why in the heck do so many people speak without thinking? In fact the mouth should consider the mind a superior partner, always to be considered the authority on most communication matters. But maybe people really are not capable of using their minds as well as I expect them to. Maybe I give folks and their ability to think too much credit. I don't know...
Perhaps, I am rambling and really not getting to the point of this entry. (smile) I think that's it. Well, let's get to the point of this particular blog entry.
A couple of days ago, I went inside of my bank branch to make a deposit. While making the deposit, I mentioned to the teller that I needed assistance filling out the deposit slip because I'm blind. She was shocked. She along with countless other people must think that a blind person looks like something other than me. At least that's what they always say. "Oh, you don't look blind." That's a good thing. I would much rather look like Angela than Blind.
And what does blind look like anyway? Does blind look like big, darkly tinted glasses? Does blind look like a swaying head? Does blind look like it sits in front of a piano all day and night? Does blind look ugly or something? Does blind look clumsy? Does blind look plain stupid?
Well, the lady went on to praise me for being such a good little blind girl. In her words...
"They sure did train you good. Who trained you? They did such a good job training you. You act so normal. You do good just like Ray Charles. You don't look blind at all. You're so pretty. I know you went to a special school to get trained to do so well."
If it were not for the fact that I decided to look over her nonsense, I would have felt so reduced. My sister said she was talking to me like a was a trained pet. I vote a well trained child.
My mother said that we shouldn't be hard on the lady. She said that the lady meant no harm by her statements. Maybe not... But her statements were still quite inappropriate. Being sincere and having good intentions do not let you off the hook for being plain wrong.
In my opinion, her comments were the byproduct of ignorance and insensitivity. That may be a little harsh for some folks. But I don't think so. She's a professional in a public facility. Her customer service skills should be more advanced. Plus, I live by the rule of, "If you don't know what to say, then it's best to be quiet."
Speaking of customer service... I am so sick of coming in contact with sales or customer service people that act all discombobulated when they realize I'm blind. I'm blind, not the elephant man. But I take that back. Even a deformed, mutilated person deserves respect. Yes, you might be caught a little off guard. But "train" yourself to manage your response when you come in contact with someone or something that you are not familiar with or don't understand.
Now, don't get me wrong... I do realize that I'm interesting, unique, or plain uncommon. I don't get all weirded out when folks express some curiosity or concern about me and my blindness. But it's all in how you do it. My only request is that you approach me with respect and dignity. Every human deserves that.
Perhaps, I am rambling and really not getting to the point of this entry. (smile) I think that's it. Well, let's get to the point of this particular blog entry.
A couple of days ago, I went inside of my bank branch to make a deposit. While making the deposit, I mentioned to the teller that I needed assistance filling out the deposit slip because I'm blind. She was shocked. She along with countless other people must think that a blind person looks like something other than me. At least that's what they always say. "Oh, you don't look blind." That's a good thing. I would much rather look like Angela than Blind.
And what does blind look like anyway? Does blind look like big, darkly tinted glasses? Does blind look like a swaying head? Does blind look like it sits in front of a piano all day and night? Does blind look ugly or something? Does blind look clumsy? Does blind look plain stupid?
Well, the lady went on to praise me for being such a good little blind girl. In her words...
"They sure did train you good. Who trained you? They did such a good job training you. You act so normal. You do good just like Ray Charles. You don't look blind at all. You're so pretty. I know you went to a special school to get trained to do so well."
If it were not for the fact that I decided to look over her nonsense, I would have felt so reduced. My sister said she was talking to me like a was a trained pet. I vote a well trained child.
My mother said that we shouldn't be hard on the lady. She said that the lady meant no harm by her statements. Maybe not... But her statements were still quite inappropriate. Being sincere and having good intentions do not let you off the hook for being plain wrong.
In my opinion, her comments were the byproduct of ignorance and insensitivity. That may be a little harsh for some folks. But I don't think so. She's a professional in a public facility. Her customer service skills should be more advanced. Plus, I live by the rule of, "If you don't know what to say, then it's best to be quiet."
Speaking of customer service... I am so sick of coming in contact with sales or customer service people that act all discombobulated when they realize I'm blind. I'm blind, not the elephant man. But I take that back. Even a deformed, mutilated person deserves respect. Yes, you might be caught a little off guard. But "train" yourself to manage your response when you come in contact with someone or something that you are not familiar with or don't understand.
Now, don't get me wrong... I do realize that I'm interesting, unique, or plain uncommon. I don't get all weirded out when folks express some curiosity or concern about me and my blindness. But it's all in how you do it. My only request is that you approach me with respect and dignity. Every human deserves that.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
A Few Lessons (Part II.)
After posting the previous blog entry, I now realize that I must recant my statement about not having learned much of anything in 2006. I actually did. Interestingly, the lessons that I will mention in a few minutes just didn't come to mind this morning.
It was probably because I hadn't been sleep in about 24 hours. Although I pride myself in being a pretty functional night owl, the older I get, I realize how a lack of sleep takes a toll on my ability to think and create. It's hard to admit. But it's the truth. At this point, I think I need to reevaluate my commitment to getting sleep. Staying up all night doesn't work very well, especially when you are not getting a chance to sleep in the daylight hours.
Well anyway... Getting back to some of the things I learned in the last twelve months. I will only list a few.
1. I learned that buying a house is easier and harder than I thought it would be.
I didn't understand anything about the buying process or home ownership before 2006. While I am certainly not an expert now, I did learn a lot from our home buying experience. I am committed to learning more. I want to learn more about buying real estate, in addition to and home improvement tips.
2. I learned that excessive weight really does weigh you down.
I have spent most of my life being overweight. While I always presumed that I would feel better if I were not "fat", I now know. Not only do I feel better, I feel younger, more healthy, alive, and much more energized. I use to feel like my excessive weight was my failure for all the world to see. So often, I would feel uncomfortable and ashamed for being so heavy. Thank you Lord... I don't feel like that anymore. Furthermore, I'm able to play with my sisters' kids without feeling like I need to take a rest in between each physical activity. I can walk and walk and walk, without feeling like I need a new pair of feet and an oxygen tank. I just feel better! Losing weight has got to be one of the greatest blessings of my life. I literally feel like I've gotten a second lease on life. What a fantastic feeling!
3. I learned that being blind really is okay.
About 10 years ago, I attended a blind convention. I was shocked and insulted that the participants of the conference were singing songs about being blind. One of the lines of one of the songs that stuck out like a mashed thumb was: "I am blind and it's okay." When I heard those folks singing that, I wondered what the hell was wrong with them. How is blind anything remotely close to being okay? I left that conference thinking that those people didn't have a grip on reality.
After 22 years of being declared legally blind and 14 years of actually being totally blind, I now realize that being blind really is okay. It's not the greatest thing that can happen to a girl. But it certainly is not the end of the world. Beyond that, blindness is nothing I have to apologize about, explain, be ashamed about, or hide. It is what it is. Don't get me wrong... Being blind is certainly a nail in the rear. But I finally have decided to be okay with it.
I had an awakening when I was in Florida last summer. As I was walking through the hotel in Jacksonville, I felt so self conscience. I felt that everyone was staring at me and my cane. And guess what... They probably were. But I had to deal with it.
The next week, I traveled to NYC. As we were roaming the city streets of Manhattan, I still felt so uncomfortable. I just knew that my cane was drawing so much negative attention to myself. It's one thing if folks were noticing how dang beautiful I am. But being noticed and stared at for having a cane and being blind is a whole different set of circumstances. After a couple of days of being in NYC, I realized that being blind is a heavy enough cross to bare. Why should I have to bare the burden of wondering what people think about me for being blind. Who gives a dog on what people think. Most of the people that stop and look at me will probably never see me again. And more than that, most, if not any of them, have never paid any of my bills and probably will never. So, really...Why should I care about what others think.
Well, I learned some more things. But I'm going to stop right there. I don't want this entry to be too lengthy. I'll post again in a few days.
Until we meet again, be blessed. To everyone: I love you. And to a select few: I love you a whole lot!
Always learning and evolving,
Miss Angela L. Braden
It was probably because I hadn't been sleep in about 24 hours. Although I pride myself in being a pretty functional night owl, the older I get, I realize how a lack of sleep takes a toll on my ability to think and create. It's hard to admit. But it's the truth. At this point, I think I need to reevaluate my commitment to getting sleep. Staying up all night doesn't work very well, especially when you are not getting a chance to sleep in the daylight hours.
Well anyway... Getting back to some of the things I learned in the last twelve months. I will only list a few.
1. I learned that buying a house is easier and harder than I thought it would be.
I didn't understand anything about the buying process or home ownership before 2006. While I am certainly not an expert now, I did learn a lot from our home buying experience. I am committed to learning more. I want to learn more about buying real estate, in addition to and home improvement tips.
2. I learned that excessive weight really does weigh you down.
I have spent most of my life being overweight. While I always presumed that I would feel better if I were not "fat", I now know. Not only do I feel better, I feel younger, more healthy, alive, and much more energized. I use to feel like my excessive weight was my failure for all the world to see. So often, I would feel uncomfortable and ashamed for being so heavy. Thank you Lord... I don't feel like that anymore. Furthermore, I'm able to play with my sisters' kids without feeling like I need to take a rest in between each physical activity. I can walk and walk and walk, without feeling like I need a new pair of feet and an oxygen tank. I just feel better! Losing weight has got to be one of the greatest blessings of my life. I literally feel like I've gotten a second lease on life. What a fantastic feeling!
3. I learned that being blind really is okay.
About 10 years ago, I attended a blind convention. I was shocked and insulted that the participants of the conference were singing songs about being blind. One of the lines of one of the songs that stuck out like a mashed thumb was: "I am blind and it's okay." When I heard those folks singing that, I wondered what the hell was wrong with them. How is blind anything remotely close to being okay? I left that conference thinking that those people didn't have a grip on reality.
After 22 years of being declared legally blind and 14 years of actually being totally blind, I now realize that being blind really is okay. It's not the greatest thing that can happen to a girl. But it certainly is not the end of the world. Beyond that, blindness is nothing I have to apologize about, explain, be ashamed about, or hide. It is what it is. Don't get me wrong... Being blind is certainly a nail in the rear. But I finally have decided to be okay with it.
I had an awakening when I was in Florida last summer. As I was walking through the hotel in Jacksonville, I felt so self conscience. I felt that everyone was staring at me and my cane. And guess what... They probably were. But I had to deal with it.
The next week, I traveled to NYC. As we were roaming the city streets of Manhattan, I still felt so uncomfortable. I just knew that my cane was drawing so much negative attention to myself. It's one thing if folks were noticing how dang beautiful I am. But being noticed and stared at for having a cane and being blind is a whole different set of circumstances. After a couple of days of being in NYC, I realized that being blind is a heavy enough cross to bare. Why should I have to bare the burden of wondering what people think about me for being blind. Who gives a dog on what people think. Most of the people that stop and look at me will probably never see me again. And more than that, most, if not any of them, have never paid any of my bills and probably will never. So, really...Why should I care about what others think.
Well, I learned some more things. But I'm going to stop right there. I don't want this entry to be too lengthy. I'll post again in a few days.
Until we meet again, be blessed. To everyone: I love you. And to a select few: I love you a whole lot!
Always learning and evolving,
Miss Angela L. Braden
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
A Few Lessons
The last ten years of my life have been filled with tragedy and triumph, sadness and joy, pain and pleasure. hatred and love, strife and unity, explosive confrontations and unexplainable peace, brokenness and healing, sickness and improved health, and lots and lots of lessons. Ten years ago, I sincerely thought I was pretty smart, advanced, and mature for my age. I now realize that while I may have indeed been sharp for my age, I basically was young and inexperienced, which often translates into dumb. In the last ten years, I found myself in so many situations that left me feeling helpless and utterly baffled. So many times, my youth/inexperience left me searching for answers, advice, and direction.
But I don't despise the experiences. Those painful, confusing, and sometimes shattering experiences molded me into the woman that I am now. For many years, I didn't feel like an adult. I was an adult by age. But for some reason, I thought of myself as a girl. Now, I know that I am a woman. To tell you the truth, I feel that I have developed into a fine piece of work.
I'm kind of ashamed to say that I haven't really learned much in 2006. So, I won't say that. I'll just say that nothing really comes to mind. 2006 was kind of like a breather for me. The formidable years were filled with such hardship, I really got a chance to recover and rest in 2006. Well, not really... But 2006 was definitely a change for the better.
So, I will take this time to focus on what I have learned in the last 10 years. I'll be brief. In fact, I will only make mention of 5 important lessons I learned. There not the most important lessons... Just what comes to mind this morning...
1. Self care should top our list of priorities.
While putting others before yourself may indeed be noble on some level, it's not always smart. We must learn to take care of ourselves and then shift our strength to taken care of others. If we are not healthy/whole, we will continue to fracture and fragment ourselves when reaching out to others. Before you know it, you will have diminished and withered into what you do not deserve to be.
2. "It's not what you know, it's what you can prove."
A line from one of my favorite films, Training Day. Unfortunately, I learned that hard lesson first hand. Our family was embroiled in a heated legal issue. Boy, that set of circumstances still makes me feel dizzy. One thing I learned is that you should rely on facts that can be tested. I learned not to accuse someone of doing something, unless I can prove it. I also learned not to make judgements based on rumors and hearsay. That ain't cool.
3. I learned that it is always better to be smart and not emotional.
Well, maybe I should say that I learned to balance the two. Too often, women abandoned all sound reasoning and jump on the bumpy hay ride of emotions. Being an overly emotional sister, who makes all of her decisions based on how she is feeling, is not a good look. It's okay to listen to the heart. But some emotions are not even logical. If sisters would think, rather than relying on their feelings, they would find themselves less likely to be stuck in the turmoil that they so often find themselves pinned under.
4. Life is not fair.
I think I have always thought that life wasn't fair. Well, I know it now. I saw the woman I love, my mother, transform into a less vibrant, confused, angry, sometimes hopeless woman. Who was the culprit that cause that sudden change? A stroke... It changed her life and ours, her children, forever. I know that she doesn't deserve the deck she's been dealt. I'm not saying this because she's my mother either. She really did deserve more than the life is she living today.
5. I am in charge of my happiness.
Basically, I'm in charge of all of my emotions. Because they are my emotions, I should budget them like I would do anything else. Plus, it's no one else's job to see to it that I am happy. That's my job. I'm on a quest to discover, apprehend, and handcuff myself to what makes me happy.
But I don't despise the experiences. Those painful, confusing, and sometimes shattering experiences molded me into the woman that I am now. For many years, I didn't feel like an adult. I was an adult by age. But for some reason, I thought of myself as a girl. Now, I know that I am a woman. To tell you the truth, I feel that I have developed into a fine piece of work.
I'm kind of ashamed to say that I haven't really learned much in 2006. So, I won't say that. I'll just say that nothing really comes to mind. 2006 was kind of like a breather for me. The formidable years were filled with such hardship, I really got a chance to recover and rest in 2006. Well, not really... But 2006 was definitely a change for the better.
So, I will take this time to focus on what I have learned in the last 10 years. I'll be brief. In fact, I will only make mention of 5 important lessons I learned. There not the most important lessons... Just what comes to mind this morning...
1. Self care should top our list of priorities.
While putting others before yourself may indeed be noble on some level, it's not always smart. We must learn to take care of ourselves and then shift our strength to taken care of others. If we are not healthy/whole, we will continue to fracture and fragment ourselves when reaching out to others. Before you know it, you will have diminished and withered into what you do not deserve to be.
2. "It's not what you know, it's what you can prove."
A line from one of my favorite films, Training Day. Unfortunately, I learned that hard lesson first hand. Our family was embroiled in a heated legal issue. Boy, that set of circumstances still makes me feel dizzy. One thing I learned is that you should rely on facts that can be tested. I learned not to accuse someone of doing something, unless I can prove it. I also learned not to make judgements based on rumors and hearsay. That ain't cool.
3. I learned that it is always better to be smart and not emotional.
Well, maybe I should say that I learned to balance the two. Too often, women abandoned all sound reasoning and jump on the bumpy hay ride of emotions. Being an overly emotional sister, who makes all of her decisions based on how she is feeling, is not a good look. It's okay to listen to the heart. But some emotions are not even logical. If sisters would think, rather than relying on their feelings, they would find themselves less likely to be stuck in the turmoil that they so often find themselves pinned under.
4. Life is not fair.
I think I have always thought that life wasn't fair. Well, I know it now. I saw the woman I love, my mother, transform into a less vibrant, confused, angry, sometimes hopeless woman. Who was the culprit that cause that sudden change? A stroke... It changed her life and ours, her children, forever. I know that she doesn't deserve the deck she's been dealt. I'm not saying this because she's my mother either. She really did deserve more than the life is she living today.
5. I am in charge of my happiness.
Basically, I'm in charge of all of my emotions. Because they are my emotions, I should budget them like I would do anything else. Plus, it's no one else's job to see to it that I am happy. That's my job. I'm on a quest to discover, apprehend, and handcuff myself to what makes me happy.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Happy New Year!!!
Unfortunately, I haven't had the opportunity to post lately. The main reason is because the holiday rush had me a little entangled. Although I try my best to not get caught up in the commercialism of Christmas, I still find myself becoming a victim of a commercially driven and stained holiday. Christmas should focus completely on my Savior, but unfortunately it doesn't... But I'm not going to complain too much. I'll just try not to get so taken next year.
Another reason I haven't blogged lately is because I'm having computer issues. My main computer has some type of virus. Well, that's what I'm saying. It won't boot up. So, I'm left with a substandard computer to use in the meantime. Although this computer helps me get most of what I need to get done, I still keep what I do on it short and sweet.
Well, I wanted to take the time to wish each of you a wonderfully blessed new year. I pray that God's glory is reflected in your life. My wish is that you experience His fullness and captivating power. May good health, peace, love, forgiveness, joy, understanding, patience, strength and grace be yours to experience and to share.
In a few days, I'm going to share what I've learned in the last 12 months. I'll also post what some of my resolutions are for this year.
Again, I bid you grace and peace for the new year.
Much love,
Angela L. Braden
Child of the King
Another reason I haven't blogged lately is because I'm having computer issues. My main computer has some type of virus. Well, that's what I'm saying. It won't boot up. So, I'm left with a substandard computer to use in the meantime. Although this computer helps me get most of what I need to get done, I still keep what I do on it short and sweet.
Well, I wanted to take the time to wish each of you a wonderfully blessed new year. I pray that God's glory is reflected in your life. My wish is that you experience His fullness and captivating power. May good health, peace, love, forgiveness, joy, understanding, patience, strength and grace be yours to experience and to share.
In a few days, I'm going to share what I've learned in the last 12 months. I'll also post what some of my resolutions are for this year.
Again, I bid you grace and peace for the new year.
Much love,
Angela L. Braden
Child of the King
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Receiving to Give
Give me salvation
I want to live
Give me your spirit
I want to be free
Give me your anointing
I want to be healed
Give me understanding
So that I won’t condemn
Give me strength
I want to do all things
Give me direction
I want to be led
Give me prosperity
That I might spread
Give me a vision
So that I won’t faint
Give me liberty
That I may cast off constraints
Give me peace
That passes all understanding
Give me joy
That will strengthen me
Give me love
That is unconditional
Give me faith
That can move mountains
Give me determination
That is relentless
Give me correction
That I might go higher
And Lord even give me tribulation
So that I will learn to be patient
For all these things you have given me
I give my life
For all these things you’ve rendered me
I give you all my time
For every sacrifice you’ve made
I’ll give you praise
For giving your life to me
I’ll do the same
Lord, here I am
I give you all of me
I know this gift is not much
But you will love me just the same
Thanks for receiving me
Thanks for giving to me
Thanks for forgiving me
Thanks for believing in me
Beloved, you are mine
And I am yours
Written by: Angela L. Braden
I want to live
Give me your spirit
I want to be free
Give me your anointing
I want to be healed
Give me understanding
So that I won’t condemn
Give me strength
I want to do all things
Give me direction
I want to be led
Give me prosperity
That I might spread
Give me a vision
So that I won’t faint
Give me liberty
That I may cast off constraints
Give me peace
That passes all understanding
Give me joy
That will strengthen me
Give me love
That is unconditional
Give me faith
That can move mountains
Give me determination
That is relentless
Give me correction
That I might go higher
And Lord even give me tribulation
So that I will learn to be patient
For all these things you have given me
I give my life
For all these things you’ve rendered me
I give you all my time
For every sacrifice you’ve made
I’ll give you praise
For giving your life to me
I’ll do the same
Lord, here I am
I give you all of me
I know this gift is not much
But you will love me just the same
Thanks for receiving me
Thanks for giving to me
Thanks for forgiving me
Thanks for believing in me
Beloved, you are mine
And I am yours
Written by: Angela L. Braden
CHANGE TO THIS BLOG
One of the things that I like about blogging is the ability to comment and to read comments. And the fact that your comment can be left and posted immediately is so cool.
With that being said, I made a decision to choose something I don't really like over something that I like. I turned the comment moderation option on for this particular blog. Let me explain why I did that. Every time I update my blog, I would get a bunch of out of control postings from out of control folks. I got tired of deleting posts that made no sense.
My only solution that I've come up with at this point is to moderate the comments. Of course, I will let most things be posted. But if it is some random nonsense, you will never see it.
Well, have a great week. I pray that God's peace be all over you.
With that being said, I made a decision to choose something I don't really like over something that I like. I turned the comment moderation option on for this particular blog. Let me explain why I did that. Every time I update my blog, I would get a bunch of out of control postings from out of control folks. I got tired of deleting posts that made no sense.
My only solution that I've come up with at this point is to moderate the comments. Of course, I will let most things be posted. But if it is some random nonsense, you will never see it.
Well, have a great week. I pray that God's peace be all over you.
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Happy Birthday Daddy!!!
I love my father so much. He's a great man. Yep, he's a great daddy... But he is also just a wonderful person. Being a good daddy just comes easy for him.
This month we're celebrating his birthday. I thought it would be good to use this outlet to honor his life and commitment to my sisters and me. A couple of days ago I posted a little something-something I wrote about him. It's all true...
Next week, I'll get back to blogging about disability related issues. In fact, I'm going to spend some time writing about how my earthly dad has helped me in this journey of love, acceptance, and survival.
Until then, be blessed.
Angie
This month we're celebrating his birthday. I thought it would be good to use this outlet to honor his life and commitment to my sisters and me. A couple of days ago I posted a little something-something I wrote about him. It's all true...
Next week, I'll get back to blogging about disability related issues. In fact, I'm going to spend some time writing about how my earthly dad has helped me in this journey of love, acceptance, and survival.
Until then, be blessed.
Angie
Monday, December 04, 2006
Daddy's Best
When I realized that the tears were forcing their way from my eyes, I softly said good night to my father and quickly turned to walk away. Although, at that very moment, I never wanted to leave his side, I still couldn’t let him see me crying. Even though it was awfully painful to see him in that condition, I’m certain that his pain exceeded mine. He, not me, was the one who had just been aroused from the deep sleep that the anesthesiologist had put him in so that the surgeon could perform a pain-free surgery to correct the damage that was done to his back due to a spinal cord injury. But now, my father was slightly awake, and the pain was arriving faster than his ability to become coherent. I couldn’t risk causing his pain to increase because of the tension that would be caused from seeing me, his oldest, but still his baby, crying.
As I walked further from his room and closer to the waiting room, the flow of tears rushed, defying my very strong attempts to hold them back. Why was I crying? The doctor came out and told us that my father’s surgery was a success. Likewise, he told us that my father was likely to recover from the surgery in only a matter of twelve weeks. Despite the good news, I was torn apart. It was so hard to see the man, who had been such an icon of strength and joy, lying on a cold, hospital bed, Powerless and frail.
When I arrived back in the chilly waiting room, I sat down on the plastic upholstered sofa and shut my eyes as tightly as I could. The sounds of humorous chatter spilled from the television that was mounted on the wall in the far right corner of the waiting room. A Latin talk show was on. A group of women were watching the show, speaking in Spanish, and laughing hysterically. I wished that I could understand the language so that I could plunge myself in the joy that the television was bringing to the ladies. But I couldn’t borrow their happiness. The tears continued to flow.
I closed my eyes even tighter. The salty tears persisted in their escape from my eyes. I tried to concentrate on the strength that my father possessed. I tried to remind myself that the same strength that he tapped into to overcome the seemingly insurmountable odds of life, could surely help him to recover from this.
I started daydreaming about the times that Daddy would drive four hours from Houston to Dallas to pick me up from college, pack up my room, and get back on the road to Houston, without even taking a break. He was so strong and committed. I began to pray that God would not only help my father successfully recover from this surgery, but that He would also grant me many more years with the man who I loved so dearly.
My father, who was once married to my mother, had remained a father to his four daughters all these years. He defied what most people expected him, a black man, to do. He stayed present and connected to his kids. He not only gave his money to help my mother give us the best, he gave his time. He called every morning to wish us a good morning and to bid us a good day. He continued to help us with our homework. He attended school events, such as football games, science fairs, and awards days. He would always rush over to discipline my sisters and me as soon as my mother would call. He was there.
I began to contemplate on the heart-breaking phenomenon that I was introduced to in my young adult years. While attending college, I met so many young women and men, who complained about not having a father in their lives. Magazine articles and books were being written, pointing out the crisis in the black family. According to news reports, fathers were the missing variable from the black family equation. Minister Louis Farrakhan even help a historical event, the Million Man March, in Washington D.C. my junior year in college, 1995, rallying black men to embrace the love, joy, and responsibility of fatherhood.
I always felt blessed that my daddy insisted on cradling each one of his daughters just as God intended for a father to do. I felt even more blessed at that very moment. That’s why it hurt me to see him ill and in pain. My father did what many men, black, white, brown, or red, do not do. Not that he should get a trophy for doing what is the standard responsibility of a father. But he did more than that, he gave us his best.
The more I sat in the waiting room and recalled all of the wonderful things that my father had done for my sisters and I, my pity for my father had been replaced with admiration and profound respect. My tears of sorrow and fear had been replaced with tears of gratitude and unconditional love. I determined in my heart. That I would give my father what he had given to me. I would give him my best. I would use my best to help him recover all the strength and vitality that he lost from being injured and operated on. I knew in my heart that my best would help push him to a place of good health, stability, and strength. That’s what his best did for me.
As I walked further from his room and closer to the waiting room, the flow of tears rushed, defying my very strong attempts to hold them back. Why was I crying? The doctor came out and told us that my father’s surgery was a success. Likewise, he told us that my father was likely to recover from the surgery in only a matter of twelve weeks. Despite the good news, I was torn apart. It was so hard to see the man, who had been such an icon of strength and joy, lying on a cold, hospital bed, Powerless and frail.
When I arrived back in the chilly waiting room, I sat down on the plastic upholstered sofa and shut my eyes as tightly as I could. The sounds of humorous chatter spilled from the television that was mounted on the wall in the far right corner of the waiting room. A Latin talk show was on. A group of women were watching the show, speaking in Spanish, and laughing hysterically. I wished that I could understand the language so that I could plunge myself in the joy that the television was bringing to the ladies. But I couldn’t borrow their happiness. The tears continued to flow.
I closed my eyes even tighter. The salty tears persisted in their escape from my eyes. I tried to concentrate on the strength that my father possessed. I tried to remind myself that the same strength that he tapped into to overcome the seemingly insurmountable odds of life, could surely help him to recover from this.
I started daydreaming about the times that Daddy would drive four hours from Houston to Dallas to pick me up from college, pack up my room, and get back on the road to Houston, without even taking a break. He was so strong and committed. I began to pray that God would not only help my father successfully recover from this surgery, but that He would also grant me many more years with the man who I loved so dearly.
My father, who was once married to my mother, had remained a father to his four daughters all these years. He defied what most people expected him, a black man, to do. He stayed present and connected to his kids. He not only gave his money to help my mother give us the best, he gave his time. He called every morning to wish us a good morning and to bid us a good day. He continued to help us with our homework. He attended school events, such as football games, science fairs, and awards days. He would always rush over to discipline my sisters and me as soon as my mother would call. He was there.
I began to contemplate on the heart-breaking phenomenon that I was introduced to in my young adult years. While attending college, I met so many young women and men, who complained about not having a father in their lives. Magazine articles and books were being written, pointing out the crisis in the black family. According to news reports, fathers were the missing variable from the black family equation. Minister Louis Farrakhan even help a historical event, the Million Man March, in Washington D.C. my junior year in college, 1995, rallying black men to embrace the love, joy, and responsibility of fatherhood.
I always felt blessed that my daddy insisted on cradling each one of his daughters just as God intended for a father to do. I felt even more blessed at that very moment. That’s why it hurt me to see him ill and in pain. My father did what many men, black, white, brown, or red, do not do. Not that he should get a trophy for doing what is the standard responsibility of a father. But he did more than that, he gave us his best.
The more I sat in the waiting room and recalled all of the wonderful things that my father had done for my sisters and I, my pity for my father had been replaced with admiration and profound respect. My tears of sorrow and fear had been replaced with tears of gratitude and unconditional love. I determined in my heart. That I would give my father what he had given to me. I would give him my best. I would use my best to help him recover all the strength and vitality that he lost from being injured and operated on. I knew in my heart that my best would help push him to a place of good health, stability, and strength. That’s what his best did for me.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
I'm Looking Up
I wanted to use a little space on my blog to post some of my not so positive writings. Well, I did... I decided not to post as much as I previously decided to. No point in giving negativity too much glory.
So for now on, I will post positive ideas and thoughts. From time to time, I'm sure that I will use this blog to vent about some of the challenges that I face. But that's different from having a pity party.
I decided last year to pop the baloons and throw away my party hat. No more pity partying for me.
Well, have a great week. I pray that God's grace is with you.
The former party girl,
Miss Angie
So for now on, I will post positive ideas and thoughts. From time to time, I'm sure that I will use this blog to vent about some of the challenges that I face. But that's different from having a pity party.
I decided last year to pop the baloons and throw away my party hat. No more pity partying for me.
Well, have a great week. I pray that God's grace is with you.
The former party girl,
Miss Angie
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)