TRIBUTE TO MY FRIEND!

It’s been a while since I blogged.  I really miss it. But running a business takes time, effort, and commitment.  

Deborah MackToday, however, I’m drawn to my blog post, because I want to share with you all just a few things about my girlfriend of  more than 30 years who passed away last week Monday the 11th of February, and we celebrated her life at her home going yesterday, the 18th.

I remember the first time I saw her at our church.  The church she attended came to visit our church.  She had on a beautiful yellow brocade blouse and a brocade mini pleated skirt.  She was alive and vibrant and full of love.  She had a red scarf tied around the neck of her blouse, which brought it out even more.  That very day when I spoke to her she said, “Hey, let’s get together sometimes.” Well, about 33 years later I can say that we got together many, many times. She was special.  The world was a better place because she was in it. I became a better person because of her friendship. She was beautiful and remained that way throughout her life.

Even more than that, I was able to trust my children to her advice and never once wondered if she would tell them the right things or try to lead them down the wrong paths.  In fact, they did what she said before they did what I said. That was a great blessing and benefit of her friendship.  My children are all grown now. She loved young people and mentored and guided them correctly.  She was generous with her money and resources, too.

I can go on and on about her, but instead I want to wish for all of you, this new year the kind of friendship that transcends sororities, clubs, and memberships. Associations with people is an insult to a great friendship. I wish for all of you the kind of friend I had.  I pray that you don’t leave this world without having had a friend like my friend, Deborah Mack.  

If you have that sort of friend or had one, please share about them in your blog posts.  Let’s all take this year by the horns and make things better by our encouragement, wisdom, and commitment to those we love and to that sphere of influence we have.  It’s great to be back.

Love you Deb and miss you so badly.  

Rosa

 

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MEET MY FAMILY – MATRIARCH – GRANDMOTHER LUCY ANN PAYNE

Grandmother on her way to church.

Grandmother on her way to church.

Grandmother Lucy Payne

Hiding from the camera.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is my dad’s mother, Lucy Ann Payne. One of my sisters is named after her. In the picture with her standing on her way to church, you can see Aunt Lucy Mae in the background. In the picture where she is hiding her face from the camera, that little boy is my older brother. (You’ll meet him, too). So this picture was from about 1950 or 1951.

If Aunt Lucy Mae was born in 1926 or 1927, my grandmother was born approximately 1897. Her husband’s name was Will Payne. I never saw even a picture of my grandfather. And oddly, I never met my grandmother in person before she died in 1963. I only have these pictures of her and what we learned that was passed down by word of mouth. A great woman, she was.

Go with me:

  • Her husband died in his early 40s.
  • She bore and raised at least 11 children
  • She buried many of her children
  • She was beaten by white men more than once
  • She was driven from her farm and land
  • She had to settle somewhere else in Florida so that she and her two children could live
  • She had memories of her dead sons hanging from the end of nooses
  • She never saw all of her grandchildren, just a few of them
  • She smiled in the picture above, anyway

A woman of strength is a formidable person to reckon with.

Also, the Scriptures say in Proverbs 31:30 “Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised.”

I honor you today Grandmother. More tomorrow

Rosa

JONATHAN’S WAY CHAPTER 9

Ages 3 to 6/The Turbulent Years

I love sharing the pictures of Jonathan’s early childhood. They look so cute and sweet. He seems like all is well. It wasn’t.

At church

4 years old at Church on Easter Sunday

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The time came when I dreaded the mornings because even with the song I sang to him daily, there was turmoil trying to get him ready for school daily. From the time he got out of the bed until the time he got downstairs outside waiting on the bus there was all kinds of conflicts. I tried everything I knew to work through it. Little to none of it worked. In fact, at times I had to call the school bus depot and let them know not to come and pick him up. I would get him to school myself.

There were days I cried along Jonathan’s Way, because I felt all alone traveling his way. I knew from the look in his face that he really didn’t know what was wrong with him either. It was that look more than anything that helped me to keep a good grip on my emotions each and every day. It was only once he got on the school bus or I got him to class that I cried, just to release the tension in me.

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We attend church regularly.  When Jonathan was  2-1/2 years old, I was sitting in service with him next to me. I didn’t have any problems with him at church as far as bad behavior. But one day I noticed he was afraid. So, I picked him up and held him in my arms. I tried to put him down once and he clung to me tighter. I started having a hard time breathing, his arms were tightening around my neck and his head was buried in the side of my neck as if he were hiding from something. I finally got his arms from around my neck and sat him on the pew next to me. He jumped off the pew and crawled under it. I kept telling him to get up and tried to pull him from under the pew. It was almost an impossible feat. I finally did get him up and took him by the hand and drug him out of the sanctuary into the hallway and finally into the church nursery. It would be 3-1/2 years later before he sat in the sanctuary again. He was 2-1/2  years old when I took him out of the sanctuary. He was 6 years old when he returned to it or should I say when we returned to it.

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I went through a lot of emotions in that 3 1/2 year period. I found out that he was afraid of the ceiling fans in the church sanctuary. It was so bad that my  husband and I had to bring him in the church from the back door and take him straight to the nursery.  I thought his pediatrician or his neurologist could give me some medicine and take away that fear. Both of them looked at me at separate appointments and said, “Mom, you just have to wait him out. He has to process it and there is no set time for that.” It proved to be a lonely time for me traveling Jonathan’s way during those years. I felt stuck and that I’d never be able to attend service regularly again. On the Sundays when we had our Communion services they had to bring my sacraments into the nursery for me to partake. My husband, a minister at our church, was always up in the pulpit with the pastor and other associate ministers while I was stuck in the nursery with Jonathan and other kids, babysitting, playing with, reading to, and talking to all the little munchkins. I confess that I was angry with him, too. I cried a lot during that time, wondering when it would all end.

More tomorrow.

Rosa