My Journey Back, My One Mile: A Sister's Grief

By Shandra Love

This book allows the reader to be
up close and personal to the emotional roller coaster that was the result of class=SpellE>Shandra losing her little sister, Angel. Sadly enough, this
would come only fifty-two days after losing her favorite aunt. Its blunt,
emotion packed, and will have you laughing and crying, as she details the many
situations that theyd find themselves in and the bond that had them so in tune
to one another that even they would shudder at its power. The flashbacks from
their childhood are uniquely ushered in and will allow you to step back in time
to experience each moment as she had. Often called Super Woman because of the
way that shed come to care for and look after everyone else, yet maintain all
that applied, this would become a thing of the past, as it was she who would
find herself in need of a savior. The grief, denial, and depression would
become so severe that itd cause her friend and daughters to experience
thoughts and concerns that they never had to worry about before. This just in:
Super Woman is down...

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 22, 2004
• ISBN: 9781468530070

Shandra Love

Shandra Love has made her “newcomer” status seem to be an understatement. She has proven such profound substance with her prior writing, Pieces, Parts of Me, that this book has only boosted her chances of becoming one of many favorite new authors. She’s the proud mother of two daughters, Miss B. and Lady Nae. They reside in Texas and seem to have experienced much, some of which has become great subject matter for her works. Shandra enjoys traveling, photography, listening to oldies, and exploring the “unknown.” Start reading this when you have enough time to, because once you’ve picked it up, you will not want to put it down.

Book preview

Contents

DISCLAIMER

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

WORDS of ENCOURAGEMENT

My Journey Back, My One Mile

Autograph Page

About the Author

DISCLAIMER

Given my new sense of rebellion and going against the grain, I will make little or no attempts to have this book edited, proofread, or otherwise made correct.

Those of you, who are real sticklers for grammar, spelling, word usage, and the like, this book may not be meant for you.

I’ve been sharing my thoughts and ideas for years now and can’t recall anyone ever having to ask me about sentence structure, a misplaced comma, a participle that was dangling, or a split verb. When so much time is spent concentrating on those aspects of a book, the essence and impact of the story is lost.

I’ll definitely make sure that spelling is correct, sentences have ended with correct punctuation, and clarity is reached, but for all of the other hype that goes along with English language usage, know that it’ll be absent here. Then again, I may just leave it all for YOU to figure out.

This is MY book! MY way! Please let me have that.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Special and sincere thanks go out to the following people whose encouragement, thoughts, and love helped me to find my way back. Know that this struggle was made easier because I had you in my corner and refusing to allow me to give up:

Nae-Nae M., Miss B. P., Antonii H., Petra B., Darrell B. Bryndalyn R., Darrell H., Donna B., Kizzy W., Colette M., Ethelind K., Tomicka G., Marvin B., Ricky C., Paris F., Cheryl, Charles, Shannon, and Ryan R., John P., Angela T., Darron C., Cedric H., Jessica A., Richie L., Valentine S., Phillip M., Denise M., Irvy B., Ken M., Chevela D., Kathleen M., MissKM, Ted B., Sharon R., Vanessa R., Pierre, Kenyatta E., Arnita Y., Paula L., The Torrences, Leon S., LaTonia G., Becky M. (ain’t forgot about you sis), My "throwed off’ siblings, the Pine Grove Crew ( Somerset, NJ) Addie, Neschelle, Shon-Shon, Janine, Derek, Clent, Iris/Nikki, Wickedestslam, Sharon T. and fam-blee, AngelPearl, PhazexFemale, Juli, NICOLE *Wink*, Violet and crew (NJ), Yewmanyeti, CEC Sr., My Absolutely Brilliant Coworkers, and the countless others whose names have escaped me :) How could I not remember the love and prayers sent up for me by my loving and nurturing church family? Pastor T. and The First Lady most graciously, and the rest of you know who you are. Thank you and much love! A special thanks to J. S. for your help in my making this book presentable. The best for last! Mother what I amyou made me. I strayed and ventured my own path, but you loved me still. What I am you made me, be it good, bad, or indifferent. GOD knew what HE was doing when HE sent me to you. Mother what I am you made me. You taught me well...It’s on me if I choose to act otherwise. *Smile*

WORDS of ENCOURAGEMENT

Every now and again life will take you down a less trodden path. After embarking on this journey you’ll find that it’s about to cause a drastic and profound change to come over you. Turning back the hands of time and not having to deal with it would be anyone’s choice, but the reality is that this is not an option. You then have to decide whether you’ll take what comes or simply fall by the wayside.

On January 7, 2003,1 would find myself traversing the dark and lonely road of grief, when I lost yet another family member. Not that I hadn’t before, but it was never one of my siblings, let alone this particular sibling, my little sister Angel.

Having lost my aunt (second mother-fifty-two days prior), this would rock me to the core of my existence. I began a journey that had my sanity, well being, and will to find my way back, being called into question.

This was not happening to me Super Woman. I had cured everyone else of their ills and had been their savior. How could I be in need of one now? No! Absolutely not!

With the help of my daughters and people whom I’ve acknowledged, I wanted to be OK again, to smile again, and to get out and enjoy life again.

The realization that my aunt and sister were in a better place brought it home for me. Through their memories, love, and post death visits I’ve begun my fight. It hasn’t been easy and I’ve wanted to give up many times, but as with any Super Hero I have to win in the end.

You’re going to go through things and they’re goingto have you up against the ropes, but lacing your gloves tighter and refusing to hit the mat will be what counts you amongst those who have fought and endured.

If you can’t survive the small battles now, how are you going to be fit for the WAR?

My Journey Back, My One Mile

Although Angel would later become my partner in crime, I have occasions where I sit and wonder where she was when a lot of crazy things were going on.

Then again, it wasn’t that she was so quiet and out of pocket, it was also because I was quite the introverted type myself. I always had friends to play with and things to do, but as a whole, I kept to myself.

Being one of nine children could easily explain how one might accidentally, or selectively, not recall a few of the things that went on while growing up.

I can remember the constant moves, scrambling about, and chaos that went along with being in a family of this size. Having five boys and a dad in the mix made sports an automatic, so we girls learned early on to either love football, or find something constructive to do until circumstances would allow another television to be brought into the house.

This would be the time that my reading and writing would become very intense. I became obsessed with Harlequin Romance books and anything that had a way of sweeping me off of my feet into a magical land of love and splendor.

I’d also find myself entranced with mysteries, thrillers, and mind-boggling works. The end result would be my trying my hand at writing and using Angel as my editor and proofreader.

Angel would become privy to all of my writings and would share her thoughts and ideas as to what she believed would make them better. She was younger than I was but she had an insight that was linked to mine.

I’d go rewrite a piece and find that her suggestion was on target. She helped me to perfect my craft. She learned how to be brutally honest with me and to not spare my feelings because in the long run, as I’d remind her, she’d be doing me the ultimate service.

Our relationship was one that any two sisters would love to have and we were able to scrap with one another and not ever utter I’m sorry. It wasn’t necessary.

August 12, 1967, was the day that my little sister was born. She was the eighth of the nine of us. Time seems to have flown after she was born because I remember very distinctly hopping up on the bed and looking into the ugly, wrinkled, and scaly face of our youngest brother.

Of course I wouldn’t remember her much, as I was only five years old when she was born, and the more celebratory event of my brother’s birth would stick in my mind most, I guess.

One thing I do remember is that once we were old enough to hang out and keep one another company, Angel and I would be constant companions.

I recall a time, after one of our many moves, when we happened to live in a much older home that had no central heating or air conditioning. It was summer and we were hot, hungry, tired, and ready to be left alone.

After we had made numerous trips to the old house and back to the new house, mother finally decided that it was time to call it a night.

God is good! We unpacked what little we could, ate a hearty meal, and began to settle down. It was beginning to get cooler outside and mother told us to raise the windows so that the cool breeze would make the night more bearable.

Angel and I put clean crisp sheets on our bed, went to bathe, and crawled into bed next to one another. The breeze blew through those windows so calmly that we soon found ourselves wrapped snugly in the top sheet and rolled into one another. We’d fall asleep with me holding her close, and making sure that she didn’t get too cold. Neither of us would stir that night and we began to look forward to going to sleep because after all was said and done, that was our way of confirming that we would always come back together. Shhh...Don’t awaken here, let her continue to sleep.

Whether it was to be a sense of protection, closeness, or worth, I don’t know. However, it would be the time that we validated our existence and love for one another.

Angel, was a low-key, laid back little sister. She never took advantage of her baby status and went with the flow of things.

In all honesty, she didn’t have to manipulate her status in the family. Angel was quiet, funny, and quite animated. I can remember a time when I was on another of my many rescue missions with her.

She had gotten into an altercation with some neighborhood kids and had come in to ask that I go back and watch her fight them.

I laughed at her new found cockiness and quietly walked the couple of blocks with her until we reached the area where she was playing, where she and the other children had gotten into it, but when we got there, the children who had been antagonizing her were nowhere to be found.

We turned to walk away and heard, Little girl, don’t you come around here with no shit! We turned and looked up towards where the voice was coming from. A lady with a scarf on her head was leaning out of a second floor window of one of the apartments.

I said, Who are you talking to? With a little bit of attitude and contempt in my otherwise terrified voice. I’m talking to her fat ass, she pointed at Angel and continued, she was around here earlier messing with my damn kids.

Awwww hell, she had just messed up. Angel was sensitive about her weight, and I was sensitive about her weight with her, so sister girl had bought it now.

You’re a lie! If anyone was bothering anybody it was your bad ass kids messing with her. THEY are always doing something. She stuck her head back in as if she were surprised by my comments. Then she retorted, I’m on my way down!

I looked over at Angel to see her reaction to this threat.

She quickly found her voice and said, Ain’t nobody scared of you, and took off running. I sat there a moment unsure of what to do.

The lady in a very self-approving and sarcastic tone shouted back, Oh I ain’t, why are you running? I found myself so tickled by this that I dropped where I was and started laughing.

Angel was running for her life and I was down there rolling in the grass laughing at the fact that a grown woman was threatening to come downstairs and beat her butt.

When I got home Angel was furious with me. She demanded to know how I could laugh at her. I had the hardest time trying to explain to her that the rules of the street say that, If you’re big enough to talk it, you better be big enough to walk it.

It wasn’t long before she was laughing right along with me and even had the nerve to ask me how fast she was going. I’d get a good chewing out from my mom about always trying to go and confront people about things, but this was Angel and she knew that she might as well be talking to a stop sign.

I had no sense of right and wrong when it came to her. She was MY little sister and MY responsibility. Anyone messing with her was messing with me too.

This would also be the thing that had me fighting two sisters at the same time, because they made the mistake of messing with her, and erroneously believing that there would be no repercussions, puleeeeze.

By the time I finished whooping up on those two girls and the spectators at the park got through, Ooooooing and ahhhhhing, I had a little clout under my belt and a nice little following.

I was scared as hell and didn’t really want to fight them but they had three older sisters who were there and adamant that we were going to knuckle up.

I had one of my older brothers there as well, but these women were amazons.

They probably would have had him begging for mercy had they decided to three-on-one him.

I just knew I had a whooped behind when my mother was to learn of this, but when she got home and I eased my way in to tell her, she was rather pleased that I had taken up for my sister even though I was outnumbered.

My mother raised us with a very firm and Christian foundation. She didn’t tolerate lying, cheating, or stealing.

These things could get your back caved in real quick. She was going to instill RIGHT in us no matter what the cost.

She had no part of violence but always told us that the day would come when we’d have to fight. She said that was just the way life was and we’d need to know what to do.

It didn’t matter that you were quiet, meek, and humble, somebody, somewhere would have to try his or her hand at breaking you.

I had my day to be scared and run from my antagonists too, but our oldest sister, who feared no one or nothing, brought me up out of it with a sweetness.

I was a skinny, introverted, crybaby type coming up. There was an instance when in fifth grade I became a perfect target for bullying girls.

I ran home one day too many and got the scariest talk I’d ever had with her. Shan, You have to take a stand one way or another. If you run home one more time, you’ll have to fight me.

Be still my heart! I don’t know if I already told you but my sister was a TOMBOY She played sports like her name was on a contract, and I had seen her hit my brothers and send them sailing across the room.

I was at best seventy-five pounds and she was more than twice that size. I cried like I had seen somebody kill my dog. She softened her tone a little but the threat was just the same, Shan, all you have to do is take out the ringleader. I wondered why it was so easy for her to say that and after looking at the size of her fists it suddenly came to me.

Nita, I can’t, they like her, and they don’t like me. I said this while crying and blubbering up a storm. I could feel her growing angrier with me.

Goddamn it! You stop crying right now! These little hoes are gonna leave you alone! You haven’t done anything to them and they better find someone else to punk!

I started drying those tears up and shutting the drama down quick, fast, and in a hurry, because had she started throwing punches at me, it would’ve been nothing nice, and I did get the picture.

The opportunity soon presented itself for me to toss or be tossed. My usual antagonist had cornered me at school and traumatized me a bit. I took it but knew that my turn would come after school because she had to pass my house in order to get to hers.

I ran home, found my sister in her room watching television and said, Nita, she messed with me again and I’m gonna fight her! She’ll be coming this way in a little bit with her big sister, will you watch me?

She jumped up, put on a raggedy t-shirt, and we walked into the living room. How long will it be before they make it this way? She asked.

I dunno, she has cheerleader practice and then they walk home, I nervously replied. OK, what I want you to do is sit out on the side porch until you see her coming. When she makes it close enough, get up and let her know that you’re ready to do this. I’ll be sitting right here on the side where I can see you. If her sister makes a move.. .it’s all over.

Although it would have been justified, I was scared for them. I was afraid that my sister was going to do quite a bit of damage.

Sherry’s sister was very sweet and didn’t deserve to be beat up, but I wasn’t about to argue that point with my sister. I simply nodded and gave her a very unsure smile.

I sat and picked grass from the ground, throwing it from one spot to another.

I watched ants as they went about their daily routine, and hoped that they’d pass me by.

Suddenly, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I slowly looked around to see Sherry and hersister coming my way. In a loud whisper I said, Nita ...she’s coming.

She didn’t reply quickly enough so I looked back to be sure that she was still there. I’m still here baby girl; I’m not going NOwhere. I let out a sigh of relief like never before.

As Sherry approached I stood and dusted myself off. Her sister looked alarmed as I threw my dukes up and said, Sherry, my sister said I couldn’t run from you anymore so, if you want to fight come on.

Sherry opened her mouth to talk some good ish I’m sure, but by the time my sister jumped off of the porch and said, That’s right! I’m sick of y’all messing with her. I know Shan doesn’t bother you and it’s going to stop RIGHT NOW!

Sherry’s sister burst into tears begging, Please don’t let them fight. I’ll tell my mother on Sherry and she’ll get a whooping for it, but I don’t want them to fight.

My sister was not impressed with the waterworks and asked, Why is it that you don’t want them to fight now but when Sherry and her little sidekicks are mistreating her you don’t try to stop it?

I didn’t know that Sherry was bothering her. When we have known about her getting in trouble we would tell our mother, but Sherry is spoiled and my mother and father think that we’re just trying to get her in trouble. If you come around to our house and let them know that she is fighting her and picking on her with her friends, they will beat her.

Still unimpressed my sister politely said, I’m not going around anywhere, they’re going to fight rightnow, or Sherry’s going to make it up in her mind that she’s not going to bother Shan anymore.

Sherry was quiet as a church mouse now and looked to be thinking of anything that might save her life.

I don’t want to fight Shan, I like her. I thought she didn’t like me, that’s why I gave her a hard time. I won’t bother her again.

Hell, I was glad this was over. I let my tired arms fall to my side and looked over at my sister for her approval. She nodded at me and smiled.

Sherry, you’re on notice. If anything else happens to Shan at that school, you better be sure you’re as far away from it as possible. Do you hear me?

Sherry looked up at my sister with pitiful eyes and said, Yes, can we go now? I had to stifle one of the biggest laughs. Surely this wasn’t Miss Bad Ass asking to be dismissed.

Yeah, but you better remember what I said. She moved to the side and allowed them to pass. When they got out of sight we hooped and hollered like crazy.

Shan, I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. This was the beginning, and the day will come when you’ll have to be ready to take another tormentor out. Just do what you have to do to get them up off of you.

That was one of the best feelings in the world. I had faced someone who had caused me many days of frustration and unhappiness.

My big sister had made it a point to rid me of this and I, with her assistance, made it a point to find the courage to let this be the day that I’d say, No more!

You can best believe that my days of bullying at the hands of Sherry and crew were long gone. After she got to school the next day and had let them know that my sister was ready to beat the hell out of her and anyone else who messed with me, I had become a, HANDS OFF item.

This would be why Angel would not be subjected to the humiliation and anxiety that I was. I can’t even recall her having trouble in school. It seemed to always be the neighborhood kids who’d, every now and then, make the mistake of aggravating her.

I can remember times that we sat up, after getting older, and laughed about how scary we were although we had as many siblings as we did.

The older ones in the family had their reputations to precede them when it came to fighting. There seemed to have always been a time when they were throwing down with someone.

My next to oldest sister was not a fighter or trash talker. All she did was suck her thumb and politely walk away from