Shout-out to all the Brothas

I guess because the Christmas holiday is approaching, I'm being particularly sentimental. I'm missing my mother and husband all the more. I miss my mom, and all the holiday turkeys and mac and cheese she used to make. Mine are good, but not as good as hers. I miss walking into her house and smelling the gingerbread cookies she'd be baking right about now. But, I'm also missing my husband. Christmas was his favorite time of year. He loved putting up decorations, stringing the lights around the house, and having me yell at him to be careful on the ladder, “cuz I'm not taking your ass to the hospital.” If he were still alive, my house would be decorated already. Here it is, December 6th and I haven't even pulled out the first Christmas light. I have so many memories of him. His smile. His laugh. His scent. My most favorite memories are the ones of him with the boys. He used to get up early on Saturday mornings and take the boys to the National Arboretum, for walks and talks. They'd be gone for most of the day, and when they got back home, I'd usually have some type of meal waiting for them. His bonding with his boys gave me some much needed alone time, which made me a better wife and mother. I know the boys miss him too. His namesake often mentions some obscure thing he would say and have us cracking up. Or a ridiculous facial expression he would make after I'd gone off on a tangent about nothing. I'd blow up over something one of my menfolk had done around the house, and he'd let me vent, and after I was done, he'd give me a zany contorted look and say, “WTF is wrong with you now?” I know from experience that growing up without a father is hard. I never knew who my father was. I grew up with a very strong mother, and she kept me in line. I only pray that I can and am doing the same thing with my boys. It seems as though African-American men have been taking a beating for not doing for their families; their children in particular. I know several brothas who could dispute that: Terry Bazemore, David Dixon, Thomas Felder, Adrian Prather, and Donnell Cox, just to name a few. I'm not disrespecting my white cousins out there; but, the brothas have been put on blast for too long now, and it's time they got some recognition. Remember fellas, to the world you may be just one person, but to one person, YOU are the world. So this blog is dedicated to all the brothers out there, who are stepping up to the plate and handling your business: those who are struggling to hold down a 9-to-5, and make it home to spend time with the family; those who are not on the best of terms with your baby's momma, but still find a way to provide for your child, in spite of it all; those I see on the Metro, pushing the stroller and juggling the diaper bag; and those who are still trying to figure it out. God Bless you. I hope Santa brings you something special this Christmas. **Note** Reposted at Myspace.