TTC Baby

They were playing house, that's what they were doing (the young black couple on the subway with the bright-eyed baby boy). Morning rush-hour. The cars were full—of course! I people was people watching.

Okay, maybe he was playing; you could barely hear her, but him...hmph. He spoke just a little too loudly like he wanted the other passengers to notice that he was a father, a real man, but not like his dad; no, he was cool. You could tell he was cool by their crisp, straight-brimmed Orioles caps (the boy wore one too) and their equally crisp and tastefully coordinated outfits. But the kid, he was something like six years old. Daddy should have been used to it all by now. By now riding the TTC with the little man should be about “Getting him to Aunty Beth's so I can go watch UFC with the boys” and not about announcing "Hey, I'm doing at least one thing that I should!" to strangers on The Rocket.

His girlfriend, or baby mama, or whatever, was a different story; she wasn't playing. Nah, you could tell she was an old-hand at all of this. It was getting old. If you asked her she'd never admit it; how do you tell people, "Sometimes I hate my kid" or, “I wish he had never been born cos I’d have gone to college to be a lawyer or something instead of endlessly folding and hanging and asking, ‘Can I help you find anything?’ day in and out at Urban Behavior”? But she played along anyway because maybe, just maybe, he’d like the game enough this time to want to play again next week. Son of a bitch! She loved him and hated him all at once. Sometimes he was just so damn hawt and others...at others she couldn’t stand to have him touch her. Who the fuck was he playing for anyway? Why the act? Like she didn't already know the real story?! Like they both didn’t?! As if!

I suppose that some of it's sour grapes with me. I mean, really! How is it that I don't have any kids and this guy does? Yeah, I know, it's my own fault mostly. I've been busy with life. Busy biting off more than I can chew. Busy contemplating my life. Busy looking for God. Busy looking for her.  Maybe he's a good dad. Maybe it's all in my head and in a few years I'll be the one with the kid on the subway who people think is a little too happy to be a father—cos ya know I would be...

“The next station is Bloor, Bloor Interchange Station.” Shit, day dreaming again! That’s my stop. I didn’t even notice when they got off.

DVHA, SOS

Blameless

I’ve struggled with where to start with this blog; with what to write first.  I think a lot. I have so much that needs saying; so much to share.

I’ve been through a lot over the years: I was left fatherless at the age of 19; suffered a real crisis of identity after leaving the ministry; had a business go belly up and was homeless as I stubbornly insisted on pulling myself back up. I’ve been cheated on by a fiancée; and lost three of my dearest when my sister slew the two nieces I helped raise in a fit of postpartum psychosis. I'll blog about those things some other time but for now I'll just say that it's was a lot to bear. I'll speak the truth; I came close to losing my faith.

Today I sit before this keyboard a grateful and a whole man. I write because I must. I write because of the wealth of love that is mine and because my life has been a blessing. I write because now that I know love I know God (Hold on agnostics and atheists, I promise not to lose you. We’ll get into what I mean later. Let’s not jump to conclusions, okay?). Now that I see clearly I know what my first post should be about.  It’s about the first thing I pray shall always be on my mind every morning and the last words that I pray will leave my lips. It’s about giving thanks and, in my way, asking forgiveness for almost giving up.  For though it did tarry; the morning has come.

This one is for The Jempress:

BLAMELESS

Let the just rejoice...

The years, the tears,
My babies, my sister,
My broken heart, my father,
The days I slept under a dark, empty sky
The dew for a blanket;
All of it He restored to me in you.
The books are balanced in a single day.
With a word I have wealth beyond comprehension.
Today I issue a receipt to the Almighty,
"PAID IN FULL with interest."

...and the streets be filled with singing

DVA

Stay tuned y'all. Thanks for reading.