Thursday, December 16, 2010

SUNDAY IN A YAAD IN JAMAICA pt 5

To day 11/10.10

6:46 pm

A movie named Daughters of the Dust came out years ago, and it was not a main stream movie, but it was a movie about a make believe island inhabited by the descendants of a slave owner and his mistress. Ibo Island, off the cost of South Carolina. The movie is based during the time when the inhabitants are packing lock, stock and barrel, leaving nothing behind but the homes they had grown up in. It showed the trails and tribulations of things that happened in the lifetime of them all. What was so beautiful was seeing a place filled with black people, of all complexions/hue but what touched me was that for this occasion, a last reunion, a last meal together, a celebration as a family, every garment they wore was white, imagine a sight such as this surrounded by the beautiful blues of the ocean and the many purples and blues of the sky. Seeing this movie was what made me long to one day live that simple, that untouched from stress,in a place where the water and the sounds surrounding you every night was your lullaby. A place with no obstruction so that you could sit on a hill looking out unable to tell where the sea begins and the sky ends. Watching the sun rise, the sun set, the flowers grow.

I did not get the water, when I want this I have to book a room, but that fine, "you gots to do what you gots to do". But I got the sounds of my neighborhood, the tree frogs, the roosters who can't tell time and start crowing a 2 am til they wake up all other roosters in the hills and you have the alarm coming from all over the hills, the dogs barking, the goats on their way to work, and home again later in the day, you can set your watch by them.

Some days or evenings you can hear the horse trot as they come down you block with guests on their backs, and on the way back, looking just a likkle bit worn out. My neighbor's dog had a litter of eight and only 2 survived, ironically the one who was the leader and the most feisty of the group, and the smallest one in the liter. My Yardmate got one a sweet little girl that she name Missie, Mostly white with black spots, from day one she ran the yard, keeping us all on our toes. When I came in late at night she would come over to my veranda and get up on my sofa and reprimand me as though she was my mother, I got attached, I fell in love. She got sick and after coming from the vet two days later she passed away in my arms, I just could not stand the idea of her dying laying on our garage floor alone. This was my first experience with death up close, it was something I always feared, but after holding Missie as she went away, it made me appreciate this life even more.

I sound like such the cliche so often but some times the old is better than the new but for over 40 years of working a job, raising a family, being a daughter, a sister, a mother, a niece, I feel blessed,that I have been fortunate to honestly say I have it all, and if there is something that I don't have or no longer have, or something that I have never had, then God give it to someone else, because they need it more than me, I don't have to be greedy.

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”
Mark Twain

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