Tag: death

Capturing the moments

When we are kids, we can’t wait to be adults. We think adulthood is some
magical, mythical world where many joys and freedoms reside. Our immature minds cannot comprehend the responsibility being an adult brings. We are far too self-centered at the time and rightly so, to think past our own wants and
needs. We think 30 is ancient and 50 is prehistoric until time seems to speed by,
and, in a blink of an eye, we find ourselves in our parents’ shoes.

Seemingly shocked and unaware of how time morphed from then till now, so
quickly. How did we go from milk and cookies and afternoon naps on cots with friends to paying bills and stressing over adult decisions? Just yesterday, we were picking the highest number to keep from being “IT” all while scoping
out the nearest hiding spots, not too close to home base to be deemed a
cheater.

We did not cherish the sanctity of ignorance and the bliss of childhood
naivete and innocence. Milk and cookies have been exchanged for wine and
charcuterie boards. We did not understand back then when elders would say,
‘getting older was both a blessing and a curse’ as they mourned the loss of
friends, mates, and lovers.

Yet, as we mature and find ourselves in those proverbial shoes of our
parents, we are forced to see things in a brand-new light. As we deal with the
caring of elderly, frail parents or mourn the loss of them. As we navigate
memories of simpler times while hugging friends/family that we failed to keep
in touch with as we pay respect to others lost. Being an adult with all its
perks and freedoms was a heavy place to be.

We use the examples provided by those that went before us. Finding ourselves
repeating phrases to our children that were once said to us as we rolled our
eyes in arrogant youthfulness. We have tidbits of wisdom and have become the
praying warriors our parents and grandparents were. Dealing with our own
children, we see firsthand why some of our parents talked to God so much.

Time passes quickly, whether or not you want it to. And once time has passed,
you can’t get those moments back. That’s why it’s imperative to capture the
memories. So, take time to create a life and not just create a career. Make
real and lasting connections with those you love and care for. A picture does
not have to be aesthetically perfect, for it to be a perfect picture. It’s the
memories and feelings the picture evokes that make it perfect.

In our society, so much time is invested in preparing our children to be
little adults, instead of pushing them to enjoy their childhood, the innocence
and joy of it. Let them laugh, encourage them to play. Let them explore and
teach them to enjoy every minute, creating special memories from everyday
moments.

Take the time to make the time to connect with friends and family and not
just in line giving respects at a funeral. There aren’t many things guaranteed
in life, but death is one thing we all will one day experience, so make those
moments between the dashes count. Live life and capture every memory.

~Micaiah

Pushed to the edge

Today my Healthcare corporation encouraged us to participate in an 8 minute and 46 second moment of silence in honor of Mr. George Floyd and in solidarity with White Coats for Black Lives Matter (WCBL). WCBL is “an organization that strives to dismantle racism in medicine and promote the health, well-being, and self-determination of the African American community.”

During those 8 minutes and 46 seconds I couldn’t help but to think of all the things that must have flashed through Mr. Floyd’s mind, while seemingly coming to the stark realization that the police was literally killing him. I can’t even fathom what he must have been feeling and the helplessness of being rendered breathless.

I kept having that video of him being murdered, because that’s what it was, play over in a loop in my head. And of how tired I am of explaining to my 7 year old daughter that another person of color has lost their life at the hands of someone who sees them as less than, all while attempting to instill into her that she is enough.

It’s exhausting.

Racism in America, like a festering wound and abhorrent disease, has been left untreated since the nation was birthed. It’s a sickness that effects the young, old and all in between.
How can we tout this as the best nation on earth when animals get more respect and protection than people of color?

When will I not have to say extra prayers for all my male friends and family members that their lives are not taken during a simple traffic stop or interaction with the police.

Yes, we try to teach our youth how to act to stay alive, but until people stop placing symbolic bullseyes on their heads and back, hunting season continues in spite of being compliant.

All lives matter, but until Black Lives Matter there will be no peace because there won’t be any justice for us. Understand this country was founded on the backs of the people that they no longer deem matter, how hypocritical is that?

There are too many disparities in healthcare, education and the justice system for people to feel comfortable sticking their head in the sand and pretending to be unaware of what takes place around them. We know you see it, you show us with your silence that until it effects you directly you don’t care.

If you aren’t helping resolve the problems you may as well be throwing fire on the flames. You care if people mistreat their dog, yet act confounded that people would feel so strongly against the mistreatment of a whole collective group of people.
Surely, not a nation that state in God they trust! Do you not understand the same God you say you trust, created us.

When will enough, be enough for you? It’s past time for me.✊🏽🖤

~micaiah

Born Free??

A friend of mine posted a picture by this amazing and talented artist ➡️ nettartanddesigns.com
and my creative juices went to work on a poem.
So check out the poem and more importantly check out his website above for amazing art work, paintings, illustrations and more…👨🏾‍🎨🎨

Born Free??

Nine whole months my mother nurtured me
thinking once I’m born I’d be free
but this country has a plan for me
they branded me with a target
and planted seeds subliminally
they start off by labeling me in school
it’s not in a child’s nature to sit still for hours
but they change the narrative because they hold the power
I can’t see myself pictured in any of the books unless it’s February or the images have labels of thugs and crooks
White washing history, not allowing images of our greatness before slavery to make their way to me
Inoculating my body and indoctrinating my mind
Then have the nerve to blame my parents for why I have no culture or pride
They poison the food
and set the mood for my down fall
dreams get shattered and scattered
across sidewalks littered with trash and filled with shadows
shadows of people meant to serve and protect
yet they look awful suspect, when killing someone based on the color or their skin
oh wait they fit a description once again?
freedom can only be used loosely
police step on necks where those nooses used to be
bullets end lives quicker
because the earth is so much sicker
so my brown eyes cry every day since my birth
knowing this cold world doesn’t see my worth.
~micaiah
5/14/2020
©MYD-Dreams LLC

Hil

never can say good bye
even after a year it still seems foreign to try
I remember being awakened from my sleep
to cries that you were now resting in peace
for a second I lost touch with reality
Could this really be true
but I soon gained more proof
the world had truly lost you
it’s hard living life with no more talks
no more shared books read
or inside jokes
I just knew we’d grow to be old folks
You were my sister, my friend and a spiritual sharpener
when your soul left
time seemed to stand still
it felt surreal
I was bereft
left fumbling to rationalize within my mind,
to accept this loss as a truth
There are days I’m great
and there’s days when simply I’m not
I know life is for living so I keep pushing I dare not stop
There is so much more I needed to share
so much more wisdom and encouragement I needed to hear
You were a sister-friend so near and dear to my heart.
I carry your memories forever with me may they never depart.
~micaiah

Continue to rest in power Sis💙
Hilakiyah Yisrael 3/10/70-5/5/2019

The Circle of Life

Whenever anyone dies, it’s a humbling moment to remind us all of our mortality. No matter how we live or our socioeconomic backgrounds, we all have an expiration date.

Whether you believe in a higher power or not doesn’t negate the certainty of death.

The recent unexpected and tragic death of Kobe Bryant along with 8 other individuals rocked many.

Unexpected deaths are always hard, because there is no time to prepare or guard your emotions.

Now that I’m in my late forties and both my parents and several close friends have passed, it’s hard not to get caught up in an avalanche of grief and tears when hearing about the death of others.

It’s as if the grief of others, stirs up a hornets nest of emotions within me and I know from reading other peoples social media posts and comments that I’m not alone in those feelings.

I honestly have to force myself to limit time on social media as it can become too heavy a burden to bear. Energy no matter the source, can be transferred.

It’s important to take time for self care and to regroup after tragic events or the death of others.

It’s easy to allow the darkness and cloak of depression to envelop you into a false sense of comfort.

Don’t be fooled, your light is not out. The flame may have flickered, but as long as you have breath that light still shines.

So, I’ve committed to living more intentionally.

To appreciate the days and make them count.

To create new and lasting memories.

To live, laugh and love and show appreciation for all those in my life.

To let go of the small stuff and focus on the bigger picture.

I’ve committed to be a better version of myself and live each day to the fullest, because we never know when it will be our last.

~Micaiah

I Wish I didn’t Know

I wish I didn’t know…

that one day every living thing must one day go

back to the dust from which it came.

I wish I didn’t know…

that sometimes people don’t get healed

and pain unleashed reveals itself in an avalanche of tears.

I wish I didn’t know…

That cancer is a monster and not just a sign of the zodiac

it doesn’t respect persons old or young and runs you ragged and tortures you before it’s done.

I wish I didn’t know…

friendships don’t always last until you grow old

sometimes death severs it’s hold.

I wish I didn’t know…

Life will give you bitter with the sweet

and bad things sometimes happens to the good folks you meet.

I wish I didn’t know…

That grief can last forever, it’s coping mechanisms that change

When you lose someone you love,

life is never quite the same.

I wish I didn’t know.

~micaiah

Unbalanced©️

Every since one of my best friends passed away unexpectedly 5/5/19 I’ve been struggling with writing and maintaining joy. I had been down this rode before in 2006 when I lost another bestfriend to murder. I’ve lost so many people between then and now including a sister and both my parents and I realized that I have so many emotions floating around needing an escape other than through tears.

Writing and journaling have always been cathartic. Reading also allows me moments of escape. But the thing about emotions is you can’t escape them forever.

So I decided to let my emotions help craft a tale, this is not a true factual account. Characters are but an extension of my thoughts, imagination and my emotions. With that being said, if death, is a trigger for you you might want to skip the rest of this post.

If not then here is the prologue for a book I am currently working on titled:

UNBALANCED©️

Prologue

Saying Goodbye

She felt so much anxiety and trepidation walking up to the casket, she was shaking on the inside but attempting to look strong on the outside.

That strength is what everyone expected of her. It’s what they always expected of her and part of the reason she had left this city.

Only she had received that call two weeks ago from her god-sister and then from his girlfriend, saying he was shot and killed in a robbery gone bad. And since they both were saying the same thing she knew it had to be true, but her heart and mind couldn’t manage to wrap around the concept of Lorenzo being gone. He was the only somebody that allowed her to be weak when she needed to be, the only one that loved her when she didn’t feel deserving of love. He never judged her, but rather he always had her back and supported her in everything she ever thought to do in life.

So when she told him she wanted to leave Cincinnati and move to Georgia and write, he immediately called his friends in Georgia and helped her secure an apartment and then helped her make the move. It was her, Lorenzo and his girlfriend at the time Nikki. She was different from Victoria the girl he was with now, well the girl he was with. That move was 3 years ago and Lorenzo had made a habit of coming to Georgia to visit every 3 months to remind her that their bond as friends was still just as strong.

This is crazy, to even be thinking about him in the past tense, is ridiculous. Cymphony wore dark shades and a big hat and figured most people had yet to realize it was her. She was almost to the casket and she felt paralyzed to take those few final steps, somehow her legs moved although she wasn’t sure how. She felt like she might hyperventilate staring down into Lorenzo’s face. He was so still and quiet, he looked just like he was asleep. The tears were streaming down her face now and a few drops had landed on Lorenzo’s face as she kissed his forehead and whispered her love and goodbyes. She stared at him so long she swore she saw his chest rise and fall, but she knew it was only wishful thinking. She was going to be sick to her stomach, it all became real at that moment. Lorenzo was dead and he would never be coming back again. She would never hear his voice or see his eyes that changed colors with his mood again. No more phone calls to check in or corny jokes. No one to tell her man troubles to, not that she let many get close.

How the hell was this real life? How could someone as solid and good as Lorenzo get robbed? He wasn’t a corner boy, he didn’t sell dope. He was just trying to be a good son, a great dad and with Victoria, he had finally found the one to make him want to settle down.

I wiped my face and walked over to his mother and family on the front row and hugged his mother tight, she hugged me back just as tightly and said, “Cymph they killed my boy. They killed your best friend. They need to rot in hell for this.” She then broke down crying in my arms and as much as I tried to hold it together that was the straw that broke the camels back. At that moment I felt the rebirth of the cold and dark side Lorenzo had helped me to contain. His love and friendship balanced out the evil and deadly mind that resided within me. Without him, I was unbalanced and out for revenge. I wouldn’t tell a soul about my mission unless I knew that’d be in agreement, but I promised Lorenzo in my heart that I wouldn’t leave Cincinnati until I found and killed everyone even associated with his death.

I helped her back into her seat and sat in the one beside her that she pulled me down into. I didn’t want to be this close. I didn’t want to see them shut the lid on that coffin. I knew I would feel suffocated to see that lid closed. Luckily, for me, his mom told them to leave it open until the service was over. He was being cremated. I would get a few of his ashes to wear in a heart locket on the chain he gifted me for my 21st birthday.

I sat through that service and couldn’t tell you a thing that was said, his mom had asked if I wanted to say remarks but everything I had to say to Lorenzo had already been said, I didn’t need to put on a show for the masses like some of these other folks were doing. It always killed me when someone died and all the people that never said one kind word in life would have all these stories to tell once a person died. I was not with the fake shit. And I knew Lorenzo was in heaven like “man stop lying.”

As soon as it was over I kissed his mom and told her I would be over to their house tomorrow. I didn’t want to be over there today with the crowd of fakes and all his ex-girlfriends posturing for attention. He didn’t love any of them hoes, except for Victoria, he had told me the last time they spoke that he was really feeling Victoria and thought she was the one for him. He barely even liked his baby momma, he just got caught on a drunk night without a condom and she knew I didn’t fuck with her at all, although I would make sure LJ his son was taken care of. I wouldn’t be giving Latreece shit though. I would make sure Lorenzo’s mom got the money to take care of LJ, she had him most of the time anyway.

I was walking towards the door when I spotted Ares. He looked good as hell, and although I barely thought twice about any dude, he always lingered in my mind each and every time I was around him. He had on dark shades so I couldn’t see his eyes but somehow I knew he was looking at me and I knew if anyone felt my pain on the loss of Lorenzo it was him. He nodded his head towards the door and I followed behind him to a hallway that leads to some offices. He opened the door and we stepped into an office.

He softly closed the door behind us and took off his shades and ran his hand down his face, when he looked at me I could literally feel the pain in his heart; to look at him made my tears brim again, but I refused to cry in front of Ares. Maybe it was because I knew what his name meant and I knew he was the God to my Goddess. His name reminded me of the strength in my own name, but I wish I didn’t have to be reminded. I wanted to be weak and have him wrap me in his arms and tell me everything would be all right, but I also didn’t want him to lie to me and I knew nothing in my life would ever be alright again.

He cleared his throat like he didn’t trust his voice to speak. “I wanted to reach out to you when it all went down, but shit I just couldn’t bring myself to, because I have been in denial about this shit. That was my ace in there. Lorenzo loved me when even my own momma didn’t give a shit about me. When I had dreams of starting my group homes he had my back and worked for free until I started making money. And some coward ass motherfuckers killed him and I couldn’t do shit to save him. By the time I got the call and made it to the scene, he could barely speak. I tried to get him to just lay still and be quiet until the ambulance came but he kept trying to talk. He said to look after LJ and Ms. Betty and to stay close to you too. He made me promise to keep you balanced. I don’t even know what that means. I promised I would and then he just stopped breathing. I started CPR on him but the more I pressed the more it seemed the blood gushed out. The paramedics had to pull me off of him when they got there. Cymph I was covered in his blood and blood is supposed to be life but his blood, his blood just signified death. And I couldn’t call you because I was so damn mad that God could take someone as good and as solid as my cousin.”

He broke down sobbing and was damn near hyperventilating and my sobs were silent but forceful, seeing a big guy like Ares broken did me in. I walked towards him and hugged him from behind and we stood like that for I don’t know how long until a warm peaceful sensation seemed to permeate throughout my body. I finally let go and Ares turned around after placing those sunglasses back over his eyes.

“Ares thank you for ensuring he didn’t die alone. I have been beating myself up about living in Georgia and how maybe if I still lived here things would have gone down differently. Lorenzo loved you like a brother, hell more than he loved his real brother. It makes me feel better knowing he knew you had his back. Do you have any idea who would have done this shit? I mean this is crazy, Lorenzo didn’t fuck with anybody. I need answers.”

“Cymph, I don’t know. I have been hearing a little chatter in the streets but not enough to put two and two together, but I think your god-sister dude Milt got something to do with this shit and if he does I’m killing that nigga.”

“Nah, you won’t even have to, because I will. I don’t like him anyway.”

“Cymph I know you loved Lorenzo but this can get crazy and dangerous. Leave this to me and a few dudes I know, no way will I forgive myself for getting you wrapped up in a mess that can turn dangerous.”

“Ares, I see Lorenzo didn’t share my secrets and I’m glad to know that. But trust when I tell you that I am more dangerous than any nigga in these streets. Lorenzo kept me balanced and I won’t rest until his death is avenged. Whether I work with you or alone, every nigga responsible will pay or my name ain’t Enyo Cymphony Caldero.”

“Wait, your name is Enyo? as in the Greek goddess of War and did you say Caldero as in Wallace Caldero’s daughter?”

“Yes to all that.”

“Damn, how the fuck did I now know who your dad was? Did Lorenzo know about you? Shit, I heard stories about you. But then everything went silent and no one knew what you really looked like or what happened to you, hell I damn near thought it was an urban legend.”

“Yes, Lorenzo knew and he didn’t treat me like I was Wallace Caldero’s daughter, he treated me like his friend Cymphony. He let me be me. And that’s why you have to understand when I say I will avenge him that I mean it.”

“Well, I guess we will be in this together after all Lorenzo did ask that I help balance you out. Shit, I never would have guessed that sweet little old you was a stone-cold killer, damn that’s sexy as hell.”

“Well keep that shit under wraps. I don’t need that information to get out or this will become way more complicated than it has to be.”

“I am heading out of here. I’ll be staying at my grandmothers’ old house on Maple. Hit me up later so we can talk more.”

“Okay I will and Cymph, be careful, you know you can trust me right?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I’m hoping I can because I know Lorenzo did. Trust for me doesn’t come easy, please don’t make me regret trusting you.”

I walked out of the office and I could feel his eyes on me as I walked away. Ares made me feel things I didn’t want to feel, but I didn’t have time to think about that, I needed to go see my god-sister Sterling and see what was up with her baby daddy Milt.

It felt weird to hear my name come off of Ares’ lips, I never went by my first name, I went by my middle name Cymphony. My father loved to tell me that he gave me the name of Enyo because I would be his little goddess of war. He raised me to be a ruthless killer and I was one of the best in hand to hand combat and could use just about any weapon thrown my way.

He would be happy to know that in the end, he won in his efforts to render me heartless, they just sealed their fate because my heart would be incinerated right along with my best friend. Murdering Lorenzo they tipped my scale and would soon realize what it meant for me to be Unbalanced.

©️ Unbalanced 2019

By Micaiah Yhisrael

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Adrift and bereft

I haven’t written in a while. I was transitioning in my feelings from numb to grieving, once again death called a friend home and left me feeling adrift and bereft. Untethered just floating in a sea of feelings and unleashed emotions

Death is hard, but unexpected death, one not a result of some chronic or terminal illness is even harder; especially when it’s a best friend. A confidante and kindred spirit, someone that you laughingly joked about growing old with. It was surreal seeing her lifeless and so still. She had always been so lively and full of life. Her Aura would bring light to any room, but death robbed the world of her presence.

I’m a spiritual being so I know all souls belong to the Creator and are only on a short loan to those of us that live in this earthly world. Even knowing and understanding her latter end doesn’t make the pain any less intense.

Witnessing another mother bury her child is something I dread each and every time, because by nature I’m an empath and I feel things deeply and knowing I can do nothing to repair the hole left is gut wrenching. Of course I can offer help and sympathy but those things don’t touch that feeling that resides deep in one’s soul when they suffer the loss of someone close to them. I can’t begin to imagine what it feels like for a mother to lose the very person that grew inside her womb.

The older I get it seems the more prayers and condolences I extend, and yet the world keeps turning and days continue into night. And although death changes the world of those effected, the rest of the world goes on. And although at times you wish you could curl up in a ball and just forget about everything and everyone else, you can’t, because you still have life within you.

And because you inherently know you have a responsibility to keep the memory and love of the deceased alive. So you surf the waves of your grief, you allow yourself to feel, but you fight to keep your head above water because you don’t want to purposely hasten your own demise and be the cause of someone’s else’s grief.

The circle of life keeps turning much like the earth. We latch on to friends and family and every golden memory we can in an effort to establish a new normal.

That’s where I find myself, trying to find my new normal, without one of my best friend’s advice and input, one without her notes left in my library books on the hold shelf. A life that is without her text messages full of inside jokes and one that is without her book nerd humor and shared favorite authors and titles. One without her voice and knowing they’ll be no new songs sung it’s all still so hard to comprehend.

But I know she would push me forward and want me to accomplish all the goals and dreams we had discussed. She’d want to see me smile and laugh and enjoy life fully. So some way somehow I will, because to keep a smile on my face and joy in my heart may just be one of the best ways to remember her.

Missing you and loving you forever my friend

In Loving Memory of Hilakiyah Yisrael 3/10/1970-5/5/2019

~Micaiah

Circle of life

The difference between life and death is literally breath!

In order to be blessed with the gift of life, you will at some point and time experience the pain of physical death. I say physical death because the spirit of a person lives far beyond the physical body is capable of.

Remember, life although a blessing does not always seem fair and likewise death does not discriminate taking old and young alike.

It’s hard not to question those things which you truly do not understand, it does not make you a bad person it makes you one that is hurting.

How you deal with death is a personal thing and likewise so is the grieving process.

No one can tell someone else how to grieve or what an acceptable grieving time frame should be.

Rather we have to understand that there are varying stages of grief and they are not always followed in a logical or sequential order.

Loss of life causes a gaping hole in the lives of those connected to the person.

We grieve not just the loss of life, but sometimes we lose purpose and connection that the person afforded us.

For those who have become caregivers of the deceased, we have to now find something to fill the free time we find ourselves with.

What do we do with ourselves when our days are no longer bombarded with caring for others, doctors appointments, cooking, cleaning and the like?

What happens when we are no longer busy, being busy?

That is usually the time when grief becomes real, after the memorials, funerals and family have all gone back to living their lives.

The grief can be enveloping and if you are not careful, all consuming. It can be the heaviest thing you have ever carried in your life and without a support system, it can overtake and overpower you.

Whether that support system is friends/family, spirituality or faith based, ground yourself in that support.

It’s easy to isolate yourself and feel as if no one else knows the pain of your loss and while all loss is individualized in how it affects you, there are many others that have felt the pain of loss in their lives.

I have learned through the many experiences I have had with death, those occurring naturally and even murder, ranging from miscarriage, childhood best friends, parents, sibling and other family members that the best way to honor a death is to keep or start living a purpose filled life.

Death, if nothing else, teaches us that time is limited and for some it is more limited than for others.

We must live each day with the determination to live our best life. It is the simplest way to honor the love, legacy and spirit of those that have gone before us.

Does that mean we won’t have days filled with tears or intermittent moments of sadness, of course not, emotions and the ability to express those feelings make us intimately more human.

But don’t drown in those depressed emotions, because life with all its twists and turns is a true gift and we must go on!

Time doesn’t truly erase all grief, but it does make it a lighter load to bear!

So brush off the happiest memory you can find from the recesses of your mind and clothe yourself in that memory.

Let the warmth of that moment envelope you and let the smile that it brings act as a light to illuminate all your darkest hours.

Go forth love, laugh and most of all LIVE!!

~micaiah

 

 

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