At this time of year, right around my birthday, I always, always think about my two girls who are no longer here. I'll share a little bit with you.
Barbara or "Redz" as I used to call her, was a childhood friend. We met when we were probably 12 or 13 years old. We hung out tough during some crazy ass "City Under Seige" days. Yeah, thats probably the best way to describe the late 80's in PG County/DC. And while she would introduce me to the "game", she did very little to teach me how to play the game or how to win the game. Those lessons would be learned much, much later. Anyways, Redz and I used to get our hair and nails done together, go to see Salt N Pepa and Heavy D together, and of course, hit up Go Go Live (1 & 2) together. And while most of the area was being held hostage by the raging crack epidemic, I was a regular 15 year old - just living life, having fun and booking boys.
When I finished 10th grade, my mother pulled me from public schools, where I had been my entire existence. She saw my life (before I did) spinning dangerously out of control. I was riding in stolen cars, getting into fights, drinking 40's of Cisco and Red Bull and spending the night at my boyfriends apartment.
Barbara, not to be outdone by me, the rookie, was always a step ahead. She was stealing the cars (her stepdads truck to be exact), starting the fights, buying the liquor and living at the boyfriends house. But still we were friends. We had been through a lot. While I was off at private school, she too changed schools. We saw each other less and less but stayed in contact. I saw her the summer after I graduated from high school, in 1991. By the end of 1993, she would be dead. Murdered in her own apartment, in front of her 18 month old daughter.
Now Kim and I met in 11th grade, after said transfer to private school. Kim had never been IN a public school, much less attended one. I had much attitude about attending an all girls school with wool uniforms and I let it be known the first day of 11th grade orientation when I had to stand up, state my name and what school I came from. Kim would later tell me, "I didn't like you right then and there".
Kim was the only child of a Metro bus driver and a career government employee. Her parents were not wealthy, but they were comfortable and had a nice house in Hyattsville. Despite her intial reaction to me and my 'tude, we became friends junior year. We started driving around the same time, coincidentially got the same kind of car (an Escort), and both had strict parents. We would pull the okie-doke routine on them almost every weekend. I'm at Kim's house. She's at mine. We'd both be with the boyfriends. Pretty ballsy, since this was before cell phones were commonplace and if your Moms had caller id or call waiting, they were pretty progressive. Anyway, Kim always had older boyfriends. Guys our age were just not her thing. And of course, me, I dated the thugs and gangstas. So neither one of us were in positions to be bringing the beaus home to meet the parents. And we helped each other out. All. Summer. Long. By the time we graduated from high school, we had the routine down pat and a long list of movies that we were supposed to have seen, but didn't.
Kim and I stayed in touch throughout college. She was far out in rural Virginia, me in Baltimore. I'd hop in my Escort and go down there on a Thursday and stay until Monday. Just hang out with Kim and her friends. Some time after I left Baltimore, she left her school and we lost each other. For about 6 years.
She found me one day on the internet! It turned out she lived around the corner from my moms house. I went to go see her and she was the same old Kim. From that day on, we were tight just like when we were teenagers. She would attend all my families parties and I would help her plan her parents' 30th anniversary blowout. Kim would pass away on May 21st of 2006 of heart failure. She never married and she never had children.
It took me five years after Barbara died for me to visit her gravesite. When I did, I was almost three months pregnant with my daughter. I remember wanting to tell her how sorry I was that I hadn't been there before, and that I was going to be a Mommy too. But when I got there, I just laid down and cried.
The last time I talked to Kim was two days before she passed. She hadn't been feeling well and she told me that the doctors wanted to admit her overnight. "You know, you mighta shoulda let them keep you, Kim" was what I said to her. No, she insisted. She had clothes to clean at home. She had stuff to do. I told her I wished she stayed at her Mom and Dads house that night and that I would call her cell phone, in case she did. Saturday passed me by and Sunday, Kim's friend had called the house and mysteriously told me to call Kim's mom. Not even in a million years did I think she would tell me that Kim was gone. I remember yelling to my husband and breaking down at the dining room table.
So what is in a birthday? For me, its about reflection and rememberance. Its about acknowledging how far I've come and how far I can go. Its being thankful for time spent with my children and my family. Its about being grateful that I have friends who sometimes I don't see much, but should I need them, I know they'll have my back. Its about letting go of hurt and hate and things and people that will hold you down.
But most of the time, its a day or even a moment of a day where I say, I'm still here. I survived.
Barbara or "Redz" as I used to call her, was a childhood friend. We met when we were probably 12 or 13 years old. We hung out tough during some crazy ass "City Under Seige" days. Yeah, thats probably the best way to describe the late 80's in PG County/DC. And while she would introduce me to the "game", she did very little to teach me how to play the game or how to win the game. Those lessons would be learned much, much later. Anyways, Redz and I used to get our hair and nails done together, go to see Salt N Pepa and Heavy D together, and of course, hit up Go Go Live (1 & 2) together. And while most of the area was being held hostage by the raging crack epidemic, I was a regular 15 year old - just living life, having fun and booking boys.
When I finished 10th grade, my mother pulled me from public schools, where I had been my entire existence. She saw my life (before I did) spinning dangerously out of control. I was riding in stolen cars, getting into fights, drinking 40's of Cisco and Red Bull and spending the night at my boyfriends apartment.
Barbara, not to be outdone by me, the rookie, was always a step ahead. She was stealing the cars (her stepdads truck to be exact), starting the fights, buying the liquor and living at the boyfriends house. But still we were friends. We had been through a lot. While I was off at private school, she too changed schools. We saw each other less and less but stayed in contact. I saw her the summer after I graduated from high school, in 1991. By the end of 1993, she would be dead. Murdered in her own apartment, in front of her 18 month old daughter.
Now Kim and I met in 11th grade, after said transfer to private school. Kim had never been IN a public school, much less attended one. I had much attitude about attending an all girls school with wool uniforms and I let it be known the first day of 11th grade orientation when I had to stand up, state my name and what school I came from. Kim would later tell me, "I didn't like you right then and there".
Kim was the only child of a Metro bus driver and a career government employee. Her parents were not wealthy, but they were comfortable and had a nice house in Hyattsville. Despite her intial reaction to me and my 'tude, we became friends junior year. We started driving around the same time, coincidentially got the same kind of car (an Escort), and both had strict parents. We would pull the okie-doke routine on them almost every weekend. I'm at Kim's house. She's at mine. We'd both be with the boyfriends. Pretty ballsy, since this was before cell phones were commonplace and if your Moms had caller id or call waiting, they were pretty progressive. Anyway, Kim always had older boyfriends. Guys our age were just not her thing. And of course, me, I dated the thugs and gangstas. So neither one of us were in positions to be bringing the beaus home to meet the parents. And we helped each other out. All. Summer. Long. By the time we graduated from high school, we had the routine down pat and a long list of movies that we were supposed to have seen, but didn't.
Kim and I stayed in touch throughout college. She was far out in rural Virginia, me in Baltimore. I'd hop in my Escort and go down there on a Thursday and stay until Monday. Just hang out with Kim and her friends. Some time after I left Baltimore, she left her school and we lost each other. For about 6 years.
She found me one day on the internet! It turned out she lived around the corner from my moms house. I went to go see her and she was the same old Kim. From that day on, we were tight just like when we were teenagers. She would attend all my families parties and I would help her plan her parents' 30th anniversary blowout. Kim would pass away on May 21st of 2006 of heart failure. She never married and she never had children.
It took me five years after Barbara died for me to visit her gravesite. When I did, I was almost three months pregnant with my daughter. I remember wanting to tell her how sorry I was that I hadn't been there before, and that I was going to be a Mommy too. But when I got there, I just laid down and cried.
The last time I talked to Kim was two days before she passed. She hadn't been feeling well and she told me that the doctors wanted to admit her overnight. "You know, you mighta shoulda let them keep you, Kim" was what I said to her. No, she insisted. She had clothes to clean at home. She had stuff to do. I told her I wished she stayed at her Mom and Dads house that night and that I would call her cell phone, in case she did. Saturday passed me by and Sunday, Kim's friend had called the house and mysteriously told me to call Kim's mom. Not even in a million years did I think she would tell me that Kim was gone. I remember yelling to my husband and breaking down at the dining room table.
So what is in a birthday? For me, its about reflection and rememberance. Its about acknowledging how far I've come and how far I can go. Its being thankful for time spent with my children and my family. Its about being grateful that I have friends who sometimes I don't see much, but should I need them, I know they'll have my back. Its about letting go of hurt and hate and things and people that will hold you down.
But most of the time, its a day or even a moment of a day where I say, I'm still here. I survived.
posted by The DJs WIFE at 1:34 PM
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