Dear You:
October 23, 2009. I was having a
release party for my new album, No Preservatives. I had done albums before, but
this felt big. It was executive produced by none other than Young Gem. I had
some of Dallas’ very best artists on this project with me. My project manager,
Joyia, went above and beyond to have a gala event. Even my baby momma was coming.
I was pumped. This day was special to me because my grandfather had passed
October 22nd 2 years prior, but it was also my grandmother’s
birthday. This was my dedication to her that her grandson was doing well. All
the hard work, the sweat, the grind was paying off. As the titled addressed,
this was an album I felt was pure; nothing but my soul and drive, compiled to
16 songs of heat. This was my night.
The event itself has some turmoil
but I didn’t care. This was the one day I was going to put everything behind me
and give the crowd a memory. And did we have fun. We were turnt up before turnt
up was a word. Friends, family, coworkers, fans, and strangers were all
impressed with the event and I couldn’t have been more proud. All the way home to Lewisville, I just knew my
grandparents would be happy for me. I was beaming from ear to ear. It was truly
a success!
I
probably got home about 3:30 that night. I was still excited. This day was supposed to
be life changing for me. My rap career was taking off. Even the owner of the M
Street Bar, the club where we held the party, was ecstatic about the night. I
laid in bed, high off the accomplishment, and appreciating the love I felt. Then
my phone rang. It was my Aunt Tootie. I looked at the time and it was 4:37 in
the morning. THIS CAN NOT BE GOOD. As I answered, I could feel the pain in her
voice and with every word, breathe was sucked out of me into an almost comatose
state. She called to informed me that my grandmother had a heart attack and she
was hospitalized. I died that day. She ended the call with a “Don’t Worry”, but
it was too late. I went to work the next Monday and took some time off so I
could go see my grandmother.
I remember our last talk we had
when I went home to Flint. Thinking back, it felt like closure. She was at
peace with her condition and even though she told me she would be getting out
soon, she also knew I couldn’t just drive back to Michigan at the drop of a
dime. She had to tell me something to get me to come back. I knew it too. Her soulmate
passed almost 2 yrs to the date and I can only imagine how hard it was for her
to live without him. She needed to be with him and I didn’t need to be so
jealous. I had to let go. On December 6, 2009, Mary Louise Barker and Jamar
Jones were both pronounced dead- her in the physical, the latter in a mental
and emotional form.
Why did God take them from me so
soon? We were just getting to a place where they were accepting of me and my gifts! Why did she lie to me? Why did she tell me she
was going to be ok when she knew she wasn’t? When she knew I wasn’t going to be
ok? Why couldn’t they just wait until I was ready for them to die?? Why couldn’t
I die instead of them? These questions filled my brain. They still do. How
could they leave me so close together, knowing the pain I have every fucking
year?! HOW COULD THEY?! Ever since that moment of life, I have been scared to
love. And scared to let anyone love me.
I wasn’t the favorite kid, the
smartest, the most handsome, the most gifted or most likely to succeed kid.
Ever since I could remember, it has just been me. Yeah, I’ve had friends, but they’ve left me.
Family wasn’t the tightest group. I was the first male born into our family and
was penalized for it. I didn’t do the things other kids did. I worked, went to
school, and Kudos. My grandmother, who was the bread winner, gave me necessities.
They didn’t teach me birds and bees, they taught me to work. It wasn’t until I left for college that they
saw something in me. Unfortunately, my grandfather was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s
shortly after I left my hometown. Grandma took care of him, not letting him go
into a home and wither away. He lived a happy life, even in peril. When I would
go home, he would speak to me as if he knew me. He just didn’t know my name or
what relationship I was to him. For 7 years I struggled with the terms of this
agreement- my grandfather was going to die soon. Being the oldest man and not
being there was one of the hardest decisions I ever had to make. I couldn’t quit
school and be risked called a failure, especially for something that was
inevitable. In the end, I feel like I let both of them down. If I would have
went back home, maybe grandma would still be alive, having the comfort of one
of her boys around the house, talking to her and making her feel safe. Maybe if
I would have visited more instead of being scared of what my actions 5 years
ago would bring? Being out of Flint, gave me new life. No one looked at me as a
failure. No one told me I wouldn’t amount to anything. Going back to Flint would
have brought back my pains, my loneliness, my struggles to do good. I was one
of the few that made it out successfully and alive, why would I want to go back
to that?
Every day I think about it. There is
not one day that goes by that I don’t think about what I could’ve done to have
them here. Even though it was God’s will, I feel like it’s my fault. Again. AND
that’s why I must tell you this……………
(turn
on back)
No comments:
Post a Comment