One night last week, my sister came to pick up her children, Jasmine and Joseph, to take them back home. As usual, I walked them out to the car so that I could soak up every second I have left with them until they return back to our house, which will actually be in a day or two. (Jasmine and Joseph basically live with us.)
As we were walking on the sidewalk that leads to the driveway, Jasmine, who is three-years-old, looked up at the nighttime sky and said, "Ann, there's firecrackers in the sky!"
At first I didn't know what she was talking about. "Firecrackers in the sky?"
Her voice rang out again as she pointed out the firecrackers that were stuck in the sky.
I finally figured out what she was talking about. The firecrackers were stars. I was so excited that my baby had noticed the beautiful ornaments that God decorated the night sky with. When I was a child, I also thought that the night sky was beautiful and enchanting.
I smiled, lifted Jasmine up in my arms, and explained that those are stars in the sky, not firecrackers.
"Stars?", she asked.
"Yes, my honey. Stars..."
At that very moment, I wished that I could also look up at the sky and enjoy the twinkling stars that looked down on us. But most of all, I wished that I could see the smile on my rabbit's face. Jazz was so happy looking up at the stars. I just wanted to enjoy the sight of her looking up in the sky.
I quickly shifted my attention from my disappointment that I couldn't see, and placed my attention back on my honey. Her excitement and happiness was enough for the both of us. I just borrowed some of her joy and soaked myself in it.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Sunday, April 29, 2007
United 93
Last Sunday night, I was feeling a little bored, so I asked my sister to tell me what was on Time Warner Cable's On Demand. Aftrer reading a laundry list of movies under HBO On Demand, I told her to go ahead and start the movie, United 93.
Now, this is the thing... I made a decision to never watch United 93, The World Trade Center, or any other movie about September 11th. The pain and horror of that day was so dense and intense that I really hate to revisit it. But I went against my better judgement, and sat down on the couch and prepared myself for United 93, the movie.
Well, I wasn't prepared enough. Even though I couldn't see the movie,the images in my mind that were created as I was listening to the movie was horrifying. I found myself getting angry, sad, and confused, all emotions that I had the weeks following the morning of September 11, 2001.
Halfway into the movie, I started to turn the television off and go upstairs. But I was in too deep. I decided to stay the course. Because no matter how uncomfortable I was watching the movie, my discomfort cannot match the pain and utter horror the people that were on those planes felt. What I was going through was nothing. When the movie was over, I could go upstairs and sink into my pillow-top mattress. But the people that were on those four planes, along with the people that were in those buildings in New York and D.C., were the real victims. Those people are gone and gone forever.
As the movie ended, tears were running down my face. I pressed my face into the seat of the couch that I was lying on and let the sofa inhale my tears and sorrow.
After the movie ended, I got up off the sofa, wiped my eyes, ran upstairs, took a HOT bath, and jumped in my bed. I thought about all those people that perished that day. I wished that they could be doing the same thing I was doing that very moment.
God bless the victims of September 11th. God bless the victims' families and friends. God bless America.
Now, this is the thing... I made a decision to never watch United 93, The World Trade Center, or any other movie about September 11th. The pain and horror of that day was so dense and intense that I really hate to revisit it. But I went against my better judgement, and sat down on the couch and prepared myself for United 93, the movie.
Well, I wasn't prepared enough. Even though I couldn't see the movie,the images in my mind that were created as I was listening to the movie was horrifying. I found myself getting angry, sad, and confused, all emotions that I had the weeks following the morning of September 11, 2001.
Halfway into the movie, I started to turn the television off and go upstairs. But I was in too deep. I decided to stay the course. Because no matter how uncomfortable I was watching the movie, my discomfort cannot match the pain and utter horror the people that were on those planes felt. What I was going through was nothing. When the movie was over, I could go upstairs and sink into my pillow-top mattress. But the people that were on those four planes, along with the people that were in those buildings in New York and D.C., were the real victims. Those people are gone and gone forever.
As the movie ended, tears were running down my face. I pressed my face into the seat of the couch that I was lying on and let the sofa inhale my tears and sorrow.
After the movie ended, I got up off the sofa, wiped my eyes, ran upstairs, took a HOT bath, and jumped in my bed. I thought about all those people that perished that day. I wished that they could be doing the same thing I was doing that very moment.
God bless the victims of September 11th. God bless the victims' families and friends. God bless America.
It Probably Will Never Happen
I got up off of my mother's bed to go and get me a glass of water. After getting the water, a thought that visits me so often, tapped me on the shoulder. "Ooh, I wish I could see."
It's been 22 years since I started losing my eye sight. I lost all of my sight 17 years ago. But strangely enough, I'm still not use to it.
Yeah, I deal with it. And I've learned to make the best out of it. Well, let me restate that. I'm learning how to make the best out of it. But with that being said, I am not to that place that being blind is okay.
In fact, I'm just going to have to say I hate it. I don't hate me. I just hate being blind. I can see how some might think of that as self hatred. I can even see how some might think that until I learn to embrace my blindness, I regect a part of myself. Maybe... I dont know.
Blindness doesn't prevent me from doing things that I want to do. But it certainly makes me have to work harder to do the things that I want to do. Sometimes, I don't want to work that hard. Sometimes, I just want to do without having to think about it. Is that lazy? I don't think so.
Well, even though this entry may be a little here and there, I still decided to post it. My blindness is real. And my feelings about it are real. One day, I feel like I'm the baddest, most tenacious sister on the block. And there other days that I wish I could be sleeping on a fluffy cloud in heaven. I guess that is just life.
One thing that I have learned is that having a bad day is alright as long as those days don't turn into the majority. Likewise, I've learned that as long as you don't allow your bad days to influence you to make bad decisions, you're cool.
Angie
It's been 22 years since I started losing my eye sight. I lost all of my sight 17 years ago. But strangely enough, I'm still not use to it.
Yeah, I deal with it. And I've learned to make the best out of it. Well, let me restate that. I'm learning how to make the best out of it. But with that being said, I am not to that place that being blind is okay.
In fact, I'm just going to have to say I hate it. I don't hate me. I just hate being blind. I can see how some might think of that as self hatred. I can even see how some might think that until I learn to embrace my blindness, I regect a part of myself. Maybe... I dont know.
Blindness doesn't prevent me from doing things that I want to do. But it certainly makes me have to work harder to do the things that I want to do. Sometimes, I don't want to work that hard. Sometimes, I just want to do without having to think about it. Is that lazy? I don't think so.
Well, even though this entry may be a little here and there, I still decided to post it. My blindness is real. And my feelings about it are real. One day, I feel like I'm the baddest, most tenacious sister on the block. And there other days that I wish I could be sleeping on a fluffy cloud in heaven. I guess that is just life.
One thing that I have learned is that having a bad day is alright as long as those days don't turn into the majority. Likewise, I've learned that as long as you don't allow your bad days to influence you to make bad decisions, you're cool.
Angie
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Another Friend Leaves this Earth
Last night, I was informed that my sister's best friend had made that leap from time to eternity. Although I'm comforted by the fact that I believe that she will live forever in heaven, I'm still sad that she has left us.
She was so young. Only 26-years-old... Her death almost seems senseless. A young wife, mother, daughter, sister, and friend...
I pray that God's peace and love be with her husband, children, parents, and everyone that loved her.
News of this young woman's death reminded me of how thankful I should be. So often, we take life and the gift of life for granted. I pray that I can continue to learn how to be thankful for the time that God has so kindly and graciously shared with me.
Again, I pray for this young woman's family. In the next hours, weeks, months, and years, they will need the Lord to be with them. I hope they tap into his love, power, comfort, and strength.
I also pray for my sister, I know that this loss is going to be tough for her.
With love,
Angie
She was so young. Only 26-years-old... Her death almost seems senseless. A young wife, mother, daughter, sister, and friend...
I pray that God's peace and love be with her husband, children, parents, and everyone that loved her.
News of this young woman's death reminded me of how thankful I should be. So often, we take life and the gift of life for granted. I pray that I can continue to learn how to be thankful for the time that God has so kindly and graciously shared with me.
Again, I pray for this young woman's family. In the next hours, weeks, months, and years, they will need the Lord to be with them. I hope they tap into his love, power, comfort, and strength.
I also pray for my sister, I know that this loss is going to be tough for her.
With love,
Angie
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Books Help Me See
One of my earliest memories is when my mother brought my new baby sister, Paula, home from the hospital. I was four-years-old. Soon to be five, but still four…
Up until that point, nothing really significant happened to me. Thankfully, I’m not one of those kids that are shackled by a horrific memory of something that happened to them in the first few years of their life. Nor am I one of those kids that have a ton of fond memories of being four. For whatever reason, the only thing I remember about being four is getting a new sister, watching cartoons, and being in Pre-K.
The memory of my father getting out of the car with Paula is not filled with vivid colors. The filed away images remind me of a faded, worn picture. But the images are indeed there. Maybe not crystal clear, but strikingly significant.
Paula was absolutely beautiful! Her eyes had so much personality. I was immediately interested in being a great big sister. I wanted from the very start to be a positive influence on this gift from heaven. Even though my understanding was limited, I realized that a baby was precious and deserved the utmost protection and love.
The only other thing I can remember being interested in at that age was watching cartoons, playing with any toy I could get my hands on, and reading books. My mother, who was the most committed elementary school teacher that I have ever come in contact with, taught me how to read. She also taught me that reading could be fun, adventurous, and exciting. I believed her.
From the time I was four-years-old, my mother started stockpiling books in my room. I would read my books over and over, never getting bored with the characters, the illustrations, or the stories. I would sometimes get lost in the settings of the books. The words would jump off the page and hold me hostage until I inhaled every page.
Reading still has the same effect on me. When I start reading a book, I cannot put it down. That’s figuratively speaking… Although I can’t read with my eyes, I can still read with my ears. Audio books have become my friend. When I start listening to a book, I vanish from where I am and reappear in the pages of whatever I am reading.
Now that I am totally blind, I enjoy reading more than I ever have. Reading is like watching a great movie. Watching movies are not always as fun. So many visual components of a movie. But a book offers me descriptions of the characters, the setting, and the movements of the actors of the book.
Reading a book gives me the chance to see again. Isn’t that groovy! Thank God for books!
Up until that point, nothing really significant happened to me. Thankfully, I’m not one of those kids that are shackled by a horrific memory of something that happened to them in the first few years of their life. Nor am I one of those kids that have a ton of fond memories of being four. For whatever reason, the only thing I remember about being four is getting a new sister, watching cartoons, and being in Pre-K.
The memory of my father getting out of the car with Paula is not filled with vivid colors. The filed away images remind me of a faded, worn picture. But the images are indeed there. Maybe not crystal clear, but strikingly significant.
Paula was absolutely beautiful! Her eyes had so much personality. I was immediately interested in being a great big sister. I wanted from the very start to be a positive influence on this gift from heaven. Even though my understanding was limited, I realized that a baby was precious and deserved the utmost protection and love.
The only other thing I can remember being interested in at that age was watching cartoons, playing with any toy I could get my hands on, and reading books. My mother, who was the most committed elementary school teacher that I have ever come in contact with, taught me how to read. She also taught me that reading could be fun, adventurous, and exciting. I believed her.
From the time I was four-years-old, my mother started stockpiling books in my room. I would read my books over and over, never getting bored with the characters, the illustrations, or the stories. I would sometimes get lost in the settings of the books. The words would jump off the page and hold me hostage until I inhaled every page.
Reading still has the same effect on me. When I start reading a book, I cannot put it down. That’s figuratively speaking… Although I can’t read with my eyes, I can still read with my ears. Audio books have become my friend. When I start listening to a book, I vanish from where I am and reappear in the pages of whatever I am reading.
Now that I am totally blind, I enjoy reading more than I ever have. Reading is like watching a great movie. Watching movies are not always as fun. So many visual components of a movie. But a book offers me descriptions of the characters, the setting, and the movements of the actors of the book.
Reading a book gives me the chance to see again. Isn’t that groovy! Thank God for books!
I'm Breaking My Silence
Well, it's my blog, and I can blog if I want to.
That's what I love about having my own blog; I set the rules. It's a beautiful thing.
A couple of days ago, I publicly announced, via my blog, that I was going to be laying low for a while. Well, I guess my addiction to reading and writing is greater than I thought. I just couldn't stay away. Yes, I've cut back. But I never really left.
The truth is that I've been neglecting some of my school assignments. Well, I'm back on track now. So, I can hang around on the internet again. But I still will watch how much and how long.
I was forced to updrade to the new Blogger. I was kind of hesitant to upgrade when they first offered the new features. I really didn't know how it would work with the speech on my computer. But today, I tried to log on to my blog, I was stopped dead in my tracks. Google forced me to upgrade.
So far, so good. I'm pleased at this point.
To tell you the truth, I'm quite pleased with Google/Blogger for this nifty program. So often, computer programs are inaccessible to blind computer users. But Google is the best! They are very accessible. And when they have some problems here and there, they're always glad to try to fix you up.
Well, I'm back blogging, and now I have new features.;
That's what I love about having my own blog; I set the rules. It's a beautiful thing.
A couple of days ago, I publicly announced, via my blog, that I was going to be laying low for a while. Well, I guess my addiction to reading and writing is greater than I thought. I just couldn't stay away. Yes, I've cut back. But I never really left.
The truth is that I've been neglecting some of my school assignments. Well, I'm back on track now. So, I can hang around on the internet again. But I still will watch how much and how long.
I was forced to updrade to the new Blogger. I was kind of hesitant to upgrade when they first offered the new features. I really didn't know how it would work with the speech on my computer. But today, I tried to log on to my blog, I was stopped dead in my tracks. Google forced me to upgrade.
So far, so good. I'm pleased at this point.
To tell you the truth, I'm quite pleased with Google/Blogger for this nifty program. So often, computer programs are inaccessible to blind computer users. But Google is the best! They are very accessible. And when they have some problems here and there, they're always glad to try to fix you up.
Well, I'm back blogging, and now I have new features.;
Monday, April 09, 2007
Taking a Break from Blogging
I think I'm going to take a break from blogging for a while. I'm not sure why. I just think that I need a break. It's not really because of my blog. It's mostly because of blogs that I visit. I've started to get too drawn in on certain issues. I need to be focussing my energy on other things.
Plus, I have some other things that's on my mind. These things are causing me to lag behind on projects that I need to be working on. I have to clear my mind and take a breather.
Before I sign off for a few weeks, I need to declare something.
I love Jasmine, Joseph, and Gabrielle. They are my honeys! They bring me so much joy, love, and compassion. I hope and pray that they continue to be my darlings, even as they grow up. What a blessed auntie I am.
And they love me for me. I'm their auntie, and in their eyes, I can do anything. Yes, they know I'm blind. But my blindness means no more than what it is. The fact is that their auntie can't see. But they don't hold that against me when they are deciding if they are going to trust me to love them, take care of them, prepare their meals, play with them, wash and iron their clothes, carry them, bathe them, or anything else. I thank them for trusting me inspite of what others think is such a major liability.
I think it's official... I have to be the proudest aunt in the universe.
Until I get back to this place again, I pray that you get to know God and/or get closer to God.
Angela L. Braden
Plus, I have some other things that's on my mind. These things are causing me to lag behind on projects that I need to be working on. I have to clear my mind and take a breather.
Before I sign off for a few weeks, I need to declare something.
I love Jasmine, Joseph, and Gabrielle. They are my honeys! They bring me so much joy, love, and compassion. I hope and pray that they continue to be my darlings, even as they grow up. What a blessed auntie I am.
And they love me for me. I'm their auntie, and in their eyes, I can do anything. Yes, they know I'm blind. But my blindness means no more than what it is. The fact is that their auntie can't see. But they don't hold that against me when they are deciding if they are going to trust me to love them, take care of them, prepare their meals, play with them, wash and iron their clothes, carry them, bathe them, or anything else. I thank them for trusting me inspite of what others think is such a major liability.
I think it's official... I have to be the proudest aunt in the universe.
Until I get back to this place again, I pray that you get to know God and/or get closer to God.
Angela L. Braden
Friday, April 06, 2007
My Super Power
I can’t number the times that someone asked me, suggested, or even outright insisted that a blind person’s hearing is better than a sighted person’s ability to hear. Well, maybe for some blind people. But for me, I don’t think I’m able to hear any better than I did before I lost my sight. I’ve just learned to use my hearing more effectively.
When you are blind, you must, make good use of the other senses you are left with. Well, if you want to be successful as a blind person you must make good use of those other senses.
Likewise, you must tap into the greatest power that a human has--the mind. Do I have super powers? You darn right I do. It’s my mind. And the other 4 senses I’m left with undergird the power of my mind.
Getting back to hearing… The other day, my love, my doll, my niece, Jasmine, was sitting upstairs with me in the gameroom watching television. She was watching the Cartoon Network. I was busy on the computer, doing whatever it is I find myself doing on the computer. And what did I hear? The sound of a cartoon episode that I will never forget. There were no words, just the sound of music coming from the television speakers.
I asked Jasmine was she watching Tom and Jerry. She said, “Yeah.” I knew it… Then my next question was, “Are those the ants marching at the picnic?” “yes.”, she replied. I was right again.
It was amazing to me that the sound of that particular Tom and Jerry episode has stuck with me all these years. How many years? More than 20… The mind is something else. I can see those ants in my head as if I had just seen that particular episode just yesterday.
I’m so thankful to God that I got a chance to see when I was a little girl. The visual images of so many experiences are burned into the walls of my memory. I’m so glad that I remember the color red, the beauty of the ocean waters, the magic of electricity falling from the sky to the earth, the image of a tiny ant, carrying a bread crumb, 5 times its size, the brightness of the sun, a sparkling diamond, a bald eagle soaring in the sky, The smiling faces of the people who stood on the ground as I was flying through the sky on a wild roller coaster, flames reaching for the sky as it consumed a burning house, perfect cursive writing, beautiful, exotic animals at the Houston Zoo, and the darkness of the night sky. And that’s only mentioning a few of my visual memories…
Although I wish that I will be able to see again in my lifetime, I’m thankful that I have my other senses. I’m also thankful that I have my mind. I don’t take it for granted. My mind is my super power. I’m able to choose, daydream, remember, love, influence, survive, and create thanks to the most valuable gift that God gave me, my mind.
Thank you Lord for such a fantastic gift!
When you are blind, you must, make good use of the other senses you are left with. Well, if you want to be successful as a blind person you must make good use of those other senses.
Likewise, you must tap into the greatest power that a human has--the mind. Do I have super powers? You darn right I do. It’s my mind. And the other 4 senses I’m left with undergird the power of my mind.
Getting back to hearing… The other day, my love, my doll, my niece, Jasmine, was sitting upstairs with me in the gameroom watching television. She was watching the Cartoon Network. I was busy on the computer, doing whatever it is I find myself doing on the computer. And what did I hear? The sound of a cartoon episode that I will never forget. There were no words, just the sound of music coming from the television speakers.
I asked Jasmine was she watching Tom and Jerry. She said, “Yeah.” I knew it… Then my next question was, “Are those the ants marching at the picnic?” “yes.”, she replied. I was right again.
It was amazing to me that the sound of that particular Tom and Jerry episode has stuck with me all these years. How many years? More than 20… The mind is something else. I can see those ants in my head as if I had just seen that particular episode just yesterday.
I’m so thankful to God that I got a chance to see when I was a little girl. The visual images of so many experiences are burned into the walls of my memory. I’m so glad that I remember the color red, the beauty of the ocean waters, the magic of electricity falling from the sky to the earth, the image of a tiny ant, carrying a bread crumb, 5 times its size, the brightness of the sun, a sparkling diamond, a bald eagle soaring in the sky, The smiling faces of the people who stood on the ground as I was flying through the sky on a wild roller coaster, flames reaching for the sky as it consumed a burning house, perfect cursive writing, beautiful, exotic animals at the Houston Zoo, and the darkness of the night sky. And that’s only mentioning a few of my visual memories…
Although I wish that I will be able to see again in my lifetime, I’m thankful that I have my other senses. I’m also thankful that I have my mind. I don’t take it for granted. My mind is my super power. I’m able to choose, daydream, remember, love, influence, survive, and create thanks to the most valuable gift that God gave me, my mind.
Thank you Lord for such a fantastic gift!
Saturday, March 31, 2007
AM I READY TO TAKE THAT FINAL BOW?
Ladama’s death confirmed something for me… You never know when your contract is going to expire. I think it’s time for me to starting hitting as hard as I can. I got to start banging out my legacy in this earth.
As much as I would like to think that I will live a long life, far as I know, I could be taking my last breaths this very hour. We really don’t know when our last day is. I know I don’t. And you might as well accept it, you don’t know either.
If I died today, the fact is they will be able to say that I lived a good life. It’s true. I have lived a good life. With the help of God, I’ve accomplished a lot. I’ve done things that will make most folks shake in their boots. I’m thankful for all of my experiences, the good and the bad ones.
But have I accomplished all that God ordained me to accomplish in my life? Have I done everything that God hoped for me to do up until this minute? I’m sure I haven’t.
It’s time for me to get moving. I have a lot of work to do. I need to make use of this time that God has loaned to me.
That way when I die, they will say she lived her life to the max. They will marvel at all of the things that I squeezed in these very few hours that we are given to live. They will say that she served an awesome God.
I’m making an announcement. I’m getting ready to finish the book that I started writing a few years ago. I’m also going to start writing my memoirs. It’s time…
Keep me in your prayers. I need the Lord.
ALB
As much as I would like to think that I will live a long life, far as I know, I could be taking my last breaths this very hour. We really don’t know when our last day is. I know I don’t. And you might as well accept it, you don’t know either.
If I died today, the fact is they will be able to say that I lived a good life. It’s true. I have lived a good life. With the help of God, I’ve accomplished a lot. I’ve done things that will make most folks shake in their boots. I’m thankful for all of my experiences, the good and the bad ones.
But have I accomplished all that God ordained me to accomplish in my life? Have I done everything that God hoped for me to do up until this minute? I’m sure I haven’t.
It’s time for me to get moving. I have a lot of work to do. I need to make use of this time that God has loaned to me.
That way when I die, they will say she lived her life to the max. They will marvel at all of the things that I squeezed in these very few hours that we are given to live. They will say that she served an awesome God.
I’m making an announcement. I’m getting ready to finish the book that I started writing a few years ago. I’m also going to start writing my memoirs. It’s time…
Keep me in your prayers. I need the Lord.
ALB
Friday, March 30, 2007
LADAMA'S DEATH BROKE THE LOCK ON MY VOLT
This week, I was forced to reconnect with a part of my life that I have tried so desperately to leave behind me. The time I spent at TSB, for whatever reason, was a very painful time in my life. So painful that I find myself haunted with a reoccurring nightmare that disrupts my sleep every six months. In this nightmare, I am informed that I didn’t complete one class, and I must return back to TSB for a semester to finish the class and receive my diploma. Keeping with the tradition of the nightmare, I always object to going back to TSB, but I still find myself back in the dorms I hated so much, and back walking through the hallways of a school building that I wished that I would never see again.
The reality of the situation is that I did indeed finish all of my classes at TSB, May 29, 1992. And when I graduated and crossed the stage, tears rushed out of my blind eyes. Graduating was such a liberating experience for more reasons than one. Actually finishing high school was just one of the many perks that came with having my diploma in my hand. When I started crying it was because I was finally getting the chance to declare TSB as an experience in my past. It was no longer my present circumstance. I left TSB, vowing to never return.
Well, I’ve maintained that vow, even though I think that the vow was a bit obsessive and over the top. However, I’ve not returned back to TSB physically or emotionally since I left. Besides the God awful dream I have about having to return back, I pretty much keep my memories of TSB locked in a volt, pushed in a very dark corner in one of the rooms of my mind.
The few friends that I had at TSB have always resented the fact that I decided to disconnect myself from TSB and everything that was connected to it. I now know that action was uncool, rude, and definitely over the top. (What do you expect? I was only 17 when I left TSB. Okay… What’s been my excuse all these years?)
This week, I found myself thinking and thinking and thinking about my times at TSB. Last week, when I got the call about my roommate leaving the Earth and flying away to meet God, I was forced to confront memories that I have decided to keep far away from me. I was forced to think about a place that my sorrow was so dense that sometimes I found it difficult to breathe. I was forced to think about a place that did so much to help me, but at the same time hurt me.
Sitting there in Ladama’s funeral, I got a chance to think about why Ladama made life at TSB better for me. I loved her for that. She was the diamond in a dark cavern of coal, rock, and dust.
Her death was made real to me when I walked up to her casket. Touching Ladama’s dead body electrocuted me. I felt all the emotions that I have ever felt in my entire life all at once.
When I touched her hand, I was drug back to the sidewalk that led into Dorm C, where Ladama and I called home for four years. I was lying in the twin bed in the tiny room that we called ours. I was sitting in the cafeteria at the table that Ladama and I would often eat and laugh for 30 minutes. I was in the gym, trying to be as physically fit as Ladama. I was in the wreck center listening to Ladama sing in the talent show. I was in the main auditorium, listening to Ladama play the piano in the spring recital. I was in the library helping Ladama with her homework. I was standing next to Ladama when she married the boy I hated she loved. I was walking through the campus with Ladama, clowning and laughing about anything we could think of. I was on the phone, talking to some boy Ladama thought it would be a good idea for me to hook up with. I was sitting in the TV room with Ladama, listening to videos on BET's Video Soul and Rap City. I was sitting in our room, listening to our favorite cassette tapes, Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince, Guy, Bobby Brown, and New Edition. I was with my friend all over again.
I now know that I must deal with these memories, the good ones and the bad ones. I have to file them in a place that will help me and that will help others. Locking them away in a volt, never to be shuffled through, does not help me learn from all of those experiences.
I made a decision that I will make a pilgrimage back to the place that I died and then mustered up the courage to live. I will plan a trip to Austin and visit the place that I called home and school. I’m going to make it a point to go in the next 12 months. It’s going to be hard, knowing that Ladama is gone forever. But I still have to do this. I just need to decide who I want to go with me. I know that I will definitely have to be with someone that I can lean on in case I come face to face with some feelings that I didn’t expect to see.
Note to My Readers:
Don’t think that I am a little thrown off. And don’t think that I have mad issues. I just have some very dark experiences, thanks to the tragedy of losing my sight. I’m now in a place that I have to reverse the harm, pain, and sadness that was brought to me because of this experience. If you would like, you can travel with me. I’ll do my best to continue to update my blog as I renew myself and find my way back to love, peace, understanding, love, forgiveness, light, and acceptance of who I am.
I pray that God’s peace be all over you. Talk to God; and while you’re at it, listen for His voice. He has something to tell you.
Ms. Angela L. Braden
The reality of the situation is that I did indeed finish all of my classes at TSB, May 29, 1992. And when I graduated and crossed the stage, tears rushed out of my blind eyes. Graduating was such a liberating experience for more reasons than one. Actually finishing high school was just one of the many perks that came with having my diploma in my hand. When I started crying it was because I was finally getting the chance to declare TSB as an experience in my past. It was no longer my present circumstance. I left TSB, vowing to never return.
Well, I’ve maintained that vow, even though I think that the vow was a bit obsessive and over the top. However, I’ve not returned back to TSB physically or emotionally since I left. Besides the God awful dream I have about having to return back, I pretty much keep my memories of TSB locked in a volt, pushed in a very dark corner in one of the rooms of my mind.
The few friends that I had at TSB have always resented the fact that I decided to disconnect myself from TSB and everything that was connected to it. I now know that action was uncool, rude, and definitely over the top. (What do you expect? I was only 17 when I left TSB. Okay… What’s been my excuse all these years?)
This week, I found myself thinking and thinking and thinking about my times at TSB. Last week, when I got the call about my roommate leaving the Earth and flying away to meet God, I was forced to confront memories that I have decided to keep far away from me. I was forced to think about a place that my sorrow was so dense that sometimes I found it difficult to breathe. I was forced to think about a place that did so much to help me, but at the same time hurt me.
Sitting there in Ladama’s funeral, I got a chance to think about why Ladama made life at TSB better for me. I loved her for that. She was the diamond in a dark cavern of coal, rock, and dust.
Her death was made real to me when I walked up to her casket. Touching Ladama’s dead body electrocuted me. I felt all the emotions that I have ever felt in my entire life all at once.
When I touched her hand, I was drug back to the sidewalk that led into Dorm C, where Ladama and I called home for four years. I was lying in the twin bed in the tiny room that we called ours. I was sitting in the cafeteria at the table that Ladama and I would often eat and laugh for 30 minutes. I was in the gym, trying to be as physically fit as Ladama. I was in the wreck center listening to Ladama sing in the talent show. I was in the main auditorium, listening to Ladama play the piano in the spring recital. I was in the library helping Ladama with her homework. I was standing next to Ladama when she married the boy I hated she loved. I was walking through the campus with Ladama, clowning and laughing about anything we could think of. I was on the phone, talking to some boy Ladama thought it would be a good idea for me to hook up with. I was sitting in the TV room with Ladama, listening to videos on BET's Video Soul and Rap City. I was sitting in our room, listening to our favorite cassette tapes, Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince, Guy, Bobby Brown, and New Edition. I was with my friend all over again.
I now know that I must deal with these memories, the good ones and the bad ones. I have to file them in a place that will help me and that will help others. Locking them away in a volt, never to be shuffled through, does not help me learn from all of those experiences.
I made a decision that I will make a pilgrimage back to the place that I died and then mustered up the courage to live. I will plan a trip to Austin and visit the place that I called home and school. I’m going to make it a point to go in the next 12 months. It’s going to be hard, knowing that Ladama is gone forever. But I still have to do this. I just need to decide who I want to go with me. I know that I will definitely have to be with someone that I can lean on in case I come face to face with some feelings that I didn’t expect to see.
Note to My Readers:
Don’t think that I am a little thrown off. And don’t think that I have mad issues. I just have some very dark experiences, thanks to the tragedy of losing my sight. I’m now in a place that I have to reverse the harm, pain, and sadness that was brought to me because of this experience. If you would like, you can travel with me. I’ll do my best to continue to update my blog as I renew myself and find my way back to love, peace, understanding, love, forgiveness, light, and acceptance of who I am.
I pray that God’s peace be all over you. Talk to God; and while you’re at it, listen for His voice. He has something to tell you.
Ms. Angela L. Braden
Monday, March 26, 2007
Pain, Death, TSB, and Ladama
I’ve tried to sit down a few times this week to write an entry for this blog. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to type more than two sentences. This week, I’ve been in pain. A pain that doesn’t produce tears, moans, and cries. Instead, it’s a pain that leaves one silent, wishing and hoping for a chance to articulate and release the pain that lives inside.
I think that I’m finally at a place that I can write about what has happened. At least, I’m giving it another try.
This week, I was informed that my best friend from high school passed away earlier in the week. Her name is Ladama Hunter. She was my roommate three years of the three and a half years I lived at the Texas School for the Blind.
Interestingly, I made mention of this young woman in one of my blog entries a couple of weeks ago. “Moonlight Madness” In that entry, I talked about my roommate, Ladama, who had no problem with sleeping. I went on to say that I would give the sleeping respect and not disturb her rest. Now, my friend is truly sleep. And now, just like then, I give her respect to rest in peace. Ladama was truly a special person to me.
Many of the people that met me in my post TSB life really don’t know much about that time in my life. It’s not a part of my life that I really like to talk about that much. The time I spent at TSB was full of pain and sorrow. I really hated TSB. And my feelings about TSB haven’t changed. Even though I’m grown, mature, and wiser, I still hate TSB.
And why did I hate TSB. Well, because TSB was the place that I was losing my sight. TSB was the place I lived, instead of living with my family. TSB was the place that I learned about and experienced racism. TSB was the place that I was sent to learn, rather than my home school district who should have taken responsibility for my education. TSB was a place that supposedly shielded us from the real world, while at the same time preparing us for the real world.
With that being said, let me also point out that all of my time at TSB was not bad. (I know that sounds hard to believe after the above rant. LOL) I had some great teachers, who really-really cared about their students. Those teachers, even the couple I didn’t really care too much for, made sure that I achieved all that I could. Of course, there were a few teachers/counselors that didn’t believe in me. But that’s cool. I didn’t feed off of their energy anyway. I attached myself to the folks that wanted to see me achieve.
When I was not hurting and wishing that I could just be dead instead of live out each dreadful day, I was kicking it with my roommate, Ladama. When I look back over my happy memories at TSB, Ladama is probably in 90% of them. She really did make life easier to live. If it wasn’t for Ladama, I probably wouldn’t have made it during that very sad part of my life.
I will always remember and appreciate Ladama for what she gave me. Laughter, hope, energy, determination, assertiveness, fun, friendship, sisterhood, companionship, and love… She was my best friend, and I’m comfortable saying that I was hers. We were like sisters.
Wednesday, I will attend her funeral in Tyler, Texas. News of her death is still a little surreal for me. I’m sure that the reality of what is already final will strike me deep Wednesday morning. I’m certain it will.
I’ll update my blog after I return back to Houston from the funeral. Until then, love God. He loves you.
I think that I’m finally at a place that I can write about what has happened. At least, I’m giving it another try.
This week, I was informed that my best friend from high school passed away earlier in the week. Her name is Ladama Hunter. She was my roommate three years of the three and a half years I lived at the Texas School for the Blind.
Interestingly, I made mention of this young woman in one of my blog entries a couple of weeks ago. “Moonlight Madness” In that entry, I talked about my roommate, Ladama, who had no problem with sleeping. I went on to say that I would give the sleeping respect and not disturb her rest. Now, my friend is truly sleep. And now, just like then, I give her respect to rest in peace. Ladama was truly a special person to me.
Many of the people that met me in my post TSB life really don’t know much about that time in my life. It’s not a part of my life that I really like to talk about that much. The time I spent at TSB was full of pain and sorrow. I really hated TSB. And my feelings about TSB haven’t changed. Even though I’m grown, mature, and wiser, I still hate TSB.
And why did I hate TSB. Well, because TSB was the place that I was losing my sight. TSB was the place I lived, instead of living with my family. TSB was the place that I learned about and experienced racism. TSB was the place that I was sent to learn, rather than my home school district who should have taken responsibility for my education. TSB was a place that supposedly shielded us from the real world, while at the same time preparing us for the real world.
With that being said, let me also point out that all of my time at TSB was not bad. (I know that sounds hard to believe after the above rant. LOL) I had some great teachers, who really-really cared about their students. Those teachers, even the couple I didn’t really care too much for, made sure that I achieved all that I could. Of course, there were a few teachers/counselors that didn’t believe in me. But that’s cool. I didn’t feed off of their energy anyway. I attached myself to the folks that wanted to see me achieve.
When I was not hurting and wishing that I could just be dead instead of live out each dreadful day, I was kicking it with my roommate, Ladama. When I look back over my happy memories at TSB, Ladama is probably in 90% of them. She really did make life easier to live. If it wasn’t for Ladama, I probably wouldn’t have made it during that very sad part of my life.
I will always remember and appreciate Ladama for what she gave me. Laughter, hope, energy, determination, assertiveness, fun, friendship, sisterhood, companionship, and love… She was my best friend, and I’m comfortable saying that I was hers. We were like sisters.
Wednesday, I will attend her funeral in Tyler, Texas. News of her death is still a little surreal for me. I’m sure that the reality of what is already final will strike me deep Wednesday morning. I’m certain it will.
I’ll update my blog after I return back to Houston from the funeral. Until then, love God. He loves you.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Talk is Cheap
Proverbs 14:23 - In all labor there is profit, But mere talk {leads} only to poverty.…
Well, I tell you, that is a word right there.
Well, I tell you, that is a word right there.
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