March 9, 2009

I don't remember much from last year.  I know that I must have went to bed late.  I may have been drinking the night before.  I know that I took a picture of myself while on the bus that morning, just to see how bad I looked after such a bad night of sleep.  I was upset that it was Tuesday. Mostly because of the work center I was a part of.  Tuesday's meant an unreasonable amount of work and lots of stress.  I came in and per usual there was a ton of work to do.  I was speaking with a co worker, Lucie, and we decided to switch our short shifts.  I would leave early today, that Tuesday, and she would leave early on Wednesday.  It must have been a longer morning than usual because we did not take our first break until 9:30am or so.  I went to my locker to retrieve my phone.  I saw 4 missed calls I believe.  3 were from my brother and the other was a number unknown to me.  I knew that it could only mean one thing and I automatically began to freak out.  I walked to the HR office and told them something was going on and that I needed to be around people while I called home.  I listened to my voice mail.  My Aunt G. spoke to my voicemail saying that I needed to call home because it was an emergency.  I did just that, I called my brother first, then I called my aunt's number.  Her son Maurice answered and he told me that my mother had passed.  Then a flurry of things happened.  With in 10 minuted of finding out that my mother died I was talking to the funeral home about arrangements.  All of these things were extremely foreign to me.  I had been to at least 4 funerals in the past and 3 of close family members but being the sole go to person was nothing but insane.  I decided then that I would deal with my emotions when I had time.  I got to Austin the next day around noon and I set up a meeting with the funeral director.  My aunt Michelle and cousin Cassie were flying in from Philadelphia. I believe that night.  We were getting together with the family. I honestly can not remember half of the next five days.  I did not sleep more than an hour a day in the 7 days I was in Austin.  everything some how fell in to place and the funeral was planned, I spoke, well read a poem I guess.  The funeral is also a blur as well as the day afterwards.  I remember getting back to Minneapolis on St. Patricks Day.  There was a parade going on downtown and I just wanted to see any of my friends.  Something comfortable, familiar.  It seemed such a contrast with the dark mood that I was in.  My mother died and I had not dealt with it yet.  You can not understand the absolute emptiness that comes with losing a parent unless you have been through it yourself.  Now, having lost both, I feel like I am constantly floating.  For me, not a lot matters any more.  My foundation was ripped from beneath.  I still haven't caught my breath yet.  I keep my emotions very neat and in check.  I work too much and try to ignore most things that run deep.  I guess I felt like I needed to tell that story.  I do not know if what I feel right now can be construed as pain, its more like a numbness or an emptiness.  Its like a hunger, or like trying to find a shirt that is warm enough but you never will.  I mean not really. 

Delusion of Faith

Albert Einstein once said, “Strange is our situation here on Earth. Each of us comes here for a short visit, not knowing why, yet sometimes seeming to divine a purpose. From the standpoint of daily life, however, there is one thing we do know: that man is here for the sake of other men- above all for those smiles and well-being our own happiness depends.” While I am sure he had no idea that one day this quote would be used as a small part of the book, The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins; he also had no idea that this would be come my purpose in life. He also, of course has no idea I will, do, continue to exist. I’m an African American intellectual, someone who chose to walk away from the church after years of pain, disillusionment and anger. Wait, scratch that. I walked away because my faith was a delusion and nothing more than that. I know that for most people when they leave the church they do it after a traumatic event. I’ve had plenty of those, they always made me cling to my religion as a source of strength. Sort of like a child suckles its mothers breast when frightened. Some would say that my faith has changed because I was influenced by the devil, if this is true than god is not great, and the devil is actually more powerful. I say this because for at least two years, everyone prayed. Apparently god forgot to pick up, that or I am destined to go straight to the fiery depths of hell.

I have to say aswell that if god is infact real, I want nothing to do with him.