Maya Angelou

"I am a woman phenomenally. Phenomenal woman that's me."

I remember the first poem I ever read by her- she exuded a boldness as well as an acceptance that could nudge along any seeking soul. From the books in my younger years to interviews in my mature self, she reminded us all that we were phenomenal and capable of greater love. 

RIP Dr Maya Angelou!

I remember her for all the snippets of moments. I didn't even know her but she allowed me to better know myself. I remember one time listening to her at a down-trodden time in my life and she made me realize where I stood to improve and how I could move forward with grace.

I remember reading I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings and since then, I've held this picture of her outside sitting by the fence. No, I did not share the same experiences that she did in the book, but I've sat at a fence and thought about my life too. I've shared the same sentiments, the same intangible feelings she has. 

It's almost as if I regard her as a friend. As if she were a part of me. But actually she helped me to understand my life better; I understood the world better because of little certain things she said and for that her influence is without measure to me

Her poems gave confidence to the timid girl they gave intent to the bold. Her thoughts on motherhood were words that were beyond a writer or a poet. They were heart sounds. 

And her views on faith...Are those that, to this day, I can only admire and hope that one day I can find that type of relationship with God.

So why am I teary for somebody who I didn't even know? I guess because I fear that she possesses another nugget of wisdom, or has some other thing to say that would be a help or an eye-opener in my life, except now, I will never know it.

So I guess I'm crying for myself. Isn't it always about onesself? Things she said helped me to navigate life better. And now I'm sad because I'm lost for understanding the potential understanding because she's not there to deliver it to me.

After saying this shouldn't I realize that she only touched in me whatever I had in me already?

It's as if you go to a lake and while looking at the water you have an epiphany. And suddenly you live a better life after that. Years later you come to find out the lake has been drained and the wooded area has been burned. You're sad for the memory and location of an important moment and an integral moment. You're also sad for the potential of more moments and deeper understanding that the lake could have given you. As she said, you may forget what they did but you'll never forget the way they made you feel.

"I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."

I also realized that she was able to rewrite her own stories, so to speak, enough that she no longer blamed those who had done her wrong. She wrote her final book in her eighties honoring her mother, all about her mother. One could say she had a crappy mother- she was abandoned, hit, exposed to inappropriate surroundings for a child, but Maya didn't begrudge her so-so mother. She acknowledged her mothers shortcomings as part of her, but honored her strong points as the prominent story. She didn't regurgitate her own injustices, but danced in her fortunes. 

Maya stood tall. God bless her.

Rudy and women

I tend to be flatly wired, or more closely, plugged into the ground wire- I'm steady and experience little emotional fluctuations in terms of sadness and joy. So I decided to use a prompt to bring out some of my emotions so my kids could see what a human, like their own mama, can experience.

I rented Rudy.

I remember being a youth and my parents rented this movie- by looking at the cover, I had little desire to watch it then, but it turned out to be memorable enough to follow me almost two decades later. I remember crying at this movie to an extent I felt my own inane emotions betrayed me. That movie reels you in and squeezes you out like a wet towel. 

So I put it in and Gabby nestled against me through the whole film, Marco fidgeted, in and out, on and on. 

I provided some bits of narration to ensure they understood the reasons behind some things. They get the feelings the actors feel, and understand the literal action, but not always the motives, or little, but important lines.

Gabby was cheering Rudy on and giving words of encouragement as of half way through the movie, well before a climax. She didn't fuss or want to get up, and as Marco was rolling over us and seeing how far off the couch he could jump, Gabby and I were with Rudy.

Once again, I cried. I cheered and gathered in my girl who felt the emotion as naturally as any heart wielding human can. 

Afterward, she said she was embarrassed about crying, and told me of another time she cried watching a movie while other kids didn't. It was the Lion King- well, geez, that one will get you for sure! I told her she has a  beautiful heart that can feel for others and nothing should ever change about that. We bonded in Rudy's name- she wanted to meet Rudy.

But the finest part came later.

After we all got ready for bed, washed up, read books, tucked in, Gabby comes to me in the kitchen as I was getting a cup of tea and says she was scared before of my reaction, but she was now brave. She proceeded to confess a minor infraction to me- something that had been a contentious subject in the past. She hid it from me since she got back from school, but now, on her own accord, she confessed her actions and mental dialog around it. It was kind of priceless... and it was Rudy!! She said Rudy made her brave! I bet part of it was a emotional bonding during Rudy which fostered a safer place for confessions, but either way...

Rudy prevailed again.

Women are fantastic creatures and I should really embrace all the expanses of our compassionate capabilities. Crying has a purpose sometimes, I suppose!

(I wonder what I confessed to my mom after I watched this as a youth? Lol :)