-
Pages
That’s What I’m Talkin’ About!
Tags
- aging
- appreciation
- Beautiful
- Biracial
- blessed
- blessings
- chaos
- childhood
- Cousins
- encouragement
- faith
- Family
- funny
- gratitude
- Health
- history
- humor
- ignorance
- interracial
- kids
- kids-say
- laugh
- lessons
- life
- loss
- love
- marriage
- mixed-race
- motherhood
- parenting
- poetry
- prayer
- pregnancy
- pride
- quotes
- race
- racism
- School
- siblings
- sisters
- Sports
- thankful
- wisdom
- womanhood
- yesterday
Archives
- June 2025
- April 2024
- February 2024
- January 2024
- April 2016
- March 2016
- May 2014
- April 2014
- March 2014
- January 2014
- September 2013
- August 2013
- July 2013
- June 2013
- May 2013
- April 2013
- March 2013
- February 2013
- January 2013
- December 2012
- November 2012
- October 2012
- September 2012
- August 2012
- July 2012
- June 2012
- May 2012
- April 2012
- March 2012
- February 2012
- January 2012
- December 2011
- November 2011
- October 2011
- September 2011
- August 2011
- July 2011
- June 2011
- May 2011
- April 2011
- March 2011
- February 2011
- January 2011
- December 2010
- November 2010
- October 2010
- September 2010
- August 2010
- July 2010
- June 2010
- May 2010
- April 2010
- March 2010
- February 2010
- January 2010
- December 2009
- November 2009
- September 2009
- August 2009
- July 2009
- June 2009
- May 2009
-
-
Regrets
I really do try to be an inspiration to others – through my writing, through my living. I often say that my goal in life is to get to the end of it with as few regrets as possible, it’s sort of my motto. Most of the decisions we made about how or if we should take care of Tony’s siblings came out of the place in my heart where that motto resides. The right thing to do seemed so obvious…so difficult, but still, very clear. I know I don’t write often about the kids we tried to do for. There’s a reason for that. The happy ending I had constructed in my mind at the beginning of this journey, well, I’ve had to accept that I am not the author of their books…just a character in chapter or two. That’s a hard thing for me to swallow, and ingesting it burns through my heart, especially as I stand on the shore watching the past two decades of my life disappear over the horizon. I will never get that time back. Tony and I will not get that time back. Our own children will never get any of that time back. We are just left to discuss the philosophical and spiritual scenarios related to the past, the present, and the future – because we chose to do what we thought was right.
Maybe I should just “let it go” like he says he has done. He’s lying, I know that, but he’s very believable. It’s just not that easy for my mind to convince my heart to “let it go” when my memories of them as little children are so crystal clear. And then I remember…I was also just a child. We were only twenty-two years old, making preparations for Rex and Daniel to arrive (the rest of the children arrived later). I gave birth to our first child a mere eight months after taking custody of two pre-teens. Now how could we possibly have thought we were prepared for that?
Tony says that our legacy will be felt stronger in the generations to come. I hold onto that hope with quiet desperation after receiving the news within the last month that two of them are expecting their own children this year. Now I have to sink uncomfortably into the role of distant relative – when I always thought that our sacrifices would have afforded us more of a grandparent or favorite aunt and uncle role in the lives of the kid’s kids. I also have to be satisfied in knowing that whether or not we are appreciated…the babies being created right now will somehow benefit from their parents having been loved by us.
In the meantime, I could use a little prayer. I’m conflicted by my own life’s motto. How is it possible to have regrets about a decision, and what seems like a lifetime, made because we didn’t want to have regrets? Somebody preach to me, PLEASE!
Maybe I should just “let it go” like he says he has done. He’s lying, I know that, but he’s very believable. It’s just not that easy for my mind to convince my heart to “let it go” when my memories of them as little children are so crystal clear. And then I remember…I was also just a child. We were only twenty-two years old, making preparations for Rex and Daniel to arrive (the rest of the children arrived later). I gave birth to our first child a mere eight months after taking custody of two pre-teens. Now how could we possibly have thought we were prepared for that?
Tony says that our legacy will be felt stronger in the generations to come. I hold onto that hope with quiet desperation after receiving the news within the last month that two of them are expecting their own children this year. Now I have to sink uncomfortably into the role of distant relative – when I always thought that our sacrifices would have afforded us more of a grandparent or favorite aunt and uncle role in the lives of the kid’s kids. I also have to be satisfied in knowing that whether or not we are appreciated…the babies being created right now will somehow benefit from their parents having been loved by us.
In the meantime, I could use a little prayer. I’m conflicted by my own life’s motto. How is it possible to have regrets about a decision, and what seems like a lifetime, made because we didn’t want to have regrets? Somebody preach to me, PLEASE!
Posted in FAMILY, MY THOUGHTS AND PRAYERS
5 Comments
Love Letter To My Children
I love you, my brown-eyed child
Your skin a golden glow
I’ll teach you about this world of ours
But I’ll learn as I watch you grow
The lessons that can only be taught
When histories intersect
When all that I thought could ever be
Becomes more that I’d ever expect
I adore you, my curly-haired child
Your lips a perfect pink
I’ll offer my guiding opinions to you
But it’s you who will make me think
My precious gift is just half of me
But the very best of us
The parts of you once separate by hate
now mixed in you…BY LOVE
~Donna Sparrow
Interracial Ignorance
I want to take a moment to thank, from the bottom of my heart, the interracial family that lives just down the street from my sister. It can be difficult at times to break stereotype in the eyes of society, and remove the negative prejudices that many people keep about families like ours…biracial children like ours. You go above and beyond everything that could ever be expected of you, when it comes to setting an example for the rest of us.
The way your seventeen year old, high school drop out, rude, loud, and disrespectful daughter sits at the end of your driveway, cussing loudly at anyone she perceives needs an a** (her words, not mine) beating – it’s so classy, and the situation is only enriched by the thought of her kicking all these butts while she is pregnant! An amazing mother-to-be, no doubt, and maybe, if she strives really hard, she’ll be as great a mother as her own. Yes, that would be a fantastic goal to aspire to. Mmmm-hmmm, her inner beauty really shines super bright every time she opens that mouth of hers!
Then, those son’s of yours. Wow. What can I say about how they put people’s minds at ease and make them feel so secure driving down their own street, the way they refuse to interrupt their game of street ball in order for any motorists to pass. All the neighbors totally admire the manners and respect you have instilled in your children. And believe me when I tell you – it warms my heart the way they mean mug anyone that has the nerve to try to get past that crazy-important game of H-O-R-S-E, toward their own driveways. Oh yes! Fine, young men indeed…I’m sure you are proud!
Lastly, and by far, the member of your family that I appreciate the most…dear, sweet, Mama! From white woman to white woman, I cannot tell you how much it means to me to be represented by a woman of such intelligence and self-awareness. Especially the way you run out of your house, in an instant, to reprimand your children for their ridiculous behavior so colorfully, verbally attack any grown up who feels the need to defend themselves against the near criminal actions of your kids. You are very articulate and so obviously know how to throw around a verb, adjective, and noun – as so eloquently proven when you told my sister you were going to kick her bleeping bleep and called her an ugly bleeping bleep. Nice! Let me ask you a question or two…Have you looked into a mirror lately? How about a classroom – ever seen the inside of one?
The greatest thing of all? It’s the way people who have been exposed to your interracial family are going to initially feel about mine. You see, I live my life trying my best to be a positive example of what interracial love looks like. We raise our children to be shining representations of the types of kids that come out of unions such as ours; polite, respectful of themselves and others, educated about the parts of their whole, enlightened, compassionate…well, the list of all the things we want for our kids, and for our kids to be, goes on and on! Your list is obviously much shorter.
Now, back to the gratitude. Thank you, thank you, thank you…for making my two choices clear: Choice #1 – work even harder at being a positive representative of multiracial families, in order to offset the damage you do OR Choice #2 – Pray to God that the majority of folks that will be exposed to both of our families, will meet us first!
His Pink Mama
A pure and honest perspective of my color, such a precious and refreshing gift.
It’s not about race, or ancestry, or history’s tears. It doesn’t pertain to finding the soul’s song even while the body is enslaved, or the choice to sit or fight, or what part of the bus “my” people occupied. It has nothing to do with the most evil part of humanity, wrapped up neatly in a halloween type costume made of bedsheets, or the rapid and violent shift from individual to group personality…
No, this is so much more important to me. An observation made, through the big and brown, beautiful and innocent eyes of my three year old. An objective comparison, unsoiled by society, unstained by the past’s mistakes, untouched by the hate of those that came before us.
We wrestled together on the family room floor – he, his younger brother, and myself. As I gently rolled around with them, getting them to believe they are stronger than they actually are, and they had me pinned on my back, all the arms and legs of them climbing and squirming onto the front of my body, something caught my eye. It was visible through the sliding patio door, in the lowest part of the western sky. The sun was setting and the the blue that had just been so prevalent was now taken over by the most amazing and glowing pink.
“D’Lo! Look at the beautiful sky…it’s pink!” I said to him. He jumped up off of my belly and scampered to the glass, quickly shadowed by his chubby, little brother. His eyes sparkled against the unusual sunset and a smile crept across his perfect face.
“Yes, it is pink…just like you, Mama!”
I’ve said it a thousand times, so once more won’t hurt – I love you so much, D’Lo!
Posted in "MIXED" MESSAGES, FAMILY, SIMPLY STATED
Tagged Biracial, childhood, funny, interracial, race
5 Comments






