Birthright

By T.J. Pulley

What a feeling to born with something incredible that you never knew you had. How amazing to be a part of something overwhelming and never become consumed. In BIRTHRIGHT, T J Pulley tells the story of young man named Orion. He has just started college and life seems on track until he loses heart after his grandpa dies. After the funeral came the

• Language: English
• Publisher: Book Vine Press
• Release date: Jul 26, 2020
• ISBN: 9781952835483

T.J. Pulley

T J Pulley was born in Chicago, Illinois. He started attending school at Anderson University in 2006 of January. A week after he started he had to return home for his mother's funeral. Losing his mother and friend made him lean harder into GOD and appreciate those in his life differently. T J always had a passion for writing but after 2006 that passion grew larger and stronger. Soon his letters, songs, and short stories were just a stepping stone for books and scripts. He has worked with the youth in churches, schools, and as a coach. It feels amazing to serve and encourage youth and to remind people to train and work toward their goals. He has many interest but writing is a very big part of his life. Inspiration is always around for a writer and there is no greater inspiration than his daughter of almost 4 years. She makes me him strive more in everything he does. He wants his writing to open doors of communication, discussion, and fun. He looks to travel and connect with people with similar, different, and opposite mindsets. It means a lot to him when his writing and creativity can help someone in some way. That's will always make writing worthwhile. T J has a lot more to write and a lot more to do.

Book preview

Contents

Explanation 5

Questions 13

History 18

Discoveries 23

The Whole Truth 29

Rules 35

Abilities 40

Study 46

Exams 51

Being Followed 58

Friend in Need 66

The Enemies 72

Who I Am and What I Can Do 79

Power 86

Love Is a Choice 93

Crisis 99

Faithful 105

Faithful: Part 2 113

Point of View 120

Explanation

I could see it all. I remembered every thought and fear.

I remember everything before I blacked out. I had shortness of breath, intense emotions, and disbelief. I was scared but I had an unsettling peace. I was being asked the same things in different ways, so I attempted to explain, but some of the details were hazy, so I had to go to the beginning of that day and work my way to where I was at that moment. That day wasn’t the greatest day for me because I had to attend my Grandpa Miller’s funeral. I wasn’t hurt because he was too young—he actually lived to be ninety-eight years old. I was more hurt because of the connection we once had, and without warning, it was gone forever.

Sometimes you can feel that a person will mean a lot to your life, and that’s how I felt about Grandpa Miller. I felt like he was teaching me without even trying to. Despite the fact that he was seventy-nine years older than me he never bored me or even seemed old for that matter. Part of me felt like he would actually live forever. It’s nothing like someone close to you leaving your life to make u feel like your whole life has been flipped upside down. He once told me this world is a bad preview of the coming attraction. He was always finding common ground and he knew I loved the movies and he would occasionally watch one with me even though he had no use for them. After a while Grandpa drifted away from normal things and behaviors and just seemed to always be preoccupied. No matter how brief our activities got I would always remember my talks with him the most. There was always wisdom that he had to pass on to me. We could talk for hours on just about anything except for the one sore subject, which was my grandma Miller.

My grandma is sweet and cares a lot about people, but she can be mean when she wants. She could make a person hate being on her bad side because of how sincere of a person she was. There was so much I knew that I didn’t know about her. That had to do with the fact that I was so close to my grandpa, but really I just felt she wouldn’t open up for a while. They separated awhile back way before I was born. They never got fully divorced, and I never understood it. Now she had a head full of gray hair and sad thoughts. I know it hurt her badly when she got the call. When my phone rang while I was in class on a Wednesday, my heart sank and I thought to myself, So much for living forever.

I spent Thursday and Friday with close family, distant relatives, and enjoyed catching up with some old friends. My friends were mostly from my years of middle and high school. I wasn’t expecting as many people to be there that I once knew so well, so it made for a different group. My family is a diverse bunch to say the least. Even though it was a sad occasion I still enjoyed seeing so many familiar faces all at once. It was weird being home in Summit, Illinois. It is a small suburb not too far from Chicago.

I remember going to school and all of my childhood experiences. I remembered recesses at Meadow Bridge and sports and choir at Richview High. From conversing with others, I discovered a lot had changed but for only a few. In a town like this, a lot stays the same over the years. People either know your business because they are nosey or because they actually care. I guess after a while one could get used to it especially since I knew how much my grandpa meant to everyone.

I expected to see all types of people at this funeral. My grandpa knew people from different walks of life. Although some people from our town didn’t associate with others, my grandpa had friendships with those he had much in common and with those that some would think he couldn’t relate to. My grandpa taught us to learn to respect and love people of different races, with different backgrounds, and with different beliefs. I always admired that about him especially because he was such a strong Christian as long as I had known him. Someone being a different race never stopped us from forming great relationships especially since my background is so diverse.

At this time, all I knew was that my grandma was white and my grandpa was mixed with a little of a lot but that he was mostly white as well. My dad married my mom who has Irish roots, and then you get me. My grandpa told me that he felt that all human beings are family, and from looking around at the group of people present at his funeral, one could tell that he lived that lifestyle.

I knew I would be busy with funeral things, so I asked my favorite professor to tell all my other instructors that I would be out for a while. His name is Dr. Robel, and he is like a role model in some ways and like brother in many other ways. He is a kindhearted man, and I even got a note from him in campus mail telling me not to rush back and to try not to miss everyone too much. I did miss my college environment and friends, especially my lifelong friend, Chris, but I needed my family now, and I know they needed me. I knew my dad needed me especially. He was taking things rather hard. I couldn’t imagine losing my father or my mother for that matter. My heart pains at the thought of it, and yet I could feel the extent of my father’s pain as if it were my own. Every time I looked into his eyes, it was as if I could hear what he truly felt.

My senses were heightened during the funeral. I could remember every speech, every prayer, every scripture, every laugh, and every tear. A lot of people showed up for the funeral. When my grandma got up there, I could tell how much she loved my grandpa, but that made their separation even more confusing to me. I remembered my grandma’s words; my husband is and was an extraordinary man. Anything he believed you could see in what he did or didn’t do. He was striving to be selfless and as he got closer to God he lost a piece of himself every day. He was a great man and I love him dearly. I could tell she felt that she lost him a little more every day as well. For the first time as I could remember, she was transparent. It was my turn to speak, and I crumbled inside. The pastor was calling for the grandson of Marcus Miller, so that was my cue to prepare myself. I wasn’t ready and hoped that time would to go back or even just be still for a moment. It felt still and silent in the room; I guess I blocked out everything.

I finally got composed enough to stand up, and at that moment, everything went back to normal. The pastor called me up again, and I went up.

I spoke of my times with my grandpa and how he always studied, prayed, and seemed very contemplative. My last words were that I would regret never being able to speak with him again. Up until that moment, I was fine but once I thought about the totality of death, I cried harder than I could ever remember myself doing in the past. So many thoughts flooded my mind while my father came up and held me close to his tear-soaked jacket and then walked me down. My mom and Adara were there instantly after my few steps down from the pulpit. They comforted me the best they knew how, and I needed it.

I calmed down during the closing prayer, and everyone was given the chance to view my grandpa once more, which was good for those who arrived somewhat late. My aunt Violet, Grandpa Miller’s only daughter, was from Kissimmee, Florida. I missed her and sometimes wished she lived with us in Summit. So many people who knew Grandpa were at the funeral. A friend of Grandpa who lived down the street was in attendance. He was weak from cancer and was in a wheelchair every day for about as long as I’ve known him. He was about thirty years younger than my grandfather but almost looked twenty years older. He was pushed up there, and then something strange happened. I wasn’t looking the whole time, but I looked over from an authentic sound of shock coming from his daughter because the old man stood and hugged his daughter as if he hadn’t been sick a day in his life. I was too out of it to inquire about it.

The casket was closed, and all of us pallbearers got in our positions to carry my grandfather. We got him in the Hurst and got in line for the processional leading to the grave site. The way it looked outside was almost unforgettable. The weather was very gloomy, and it started to drizzle as soon as we stepped a foot outside.

We arrived at the grave site fifteen minutes later, and not even the rain could mask the tears of those impacted by Marcus Miller. As Adara and I walked away, one of the ministers of the church touched my back and whispered that I and a few others needed to meet back at the church for the reading of the will. We left quickly to return to the church because the rain was picking up. Everything was happening so fast but I realized that we all just needed to be strong. After a short ride back Adara and I walked in and approached the door and the minister requested that Adara waited outside. She rubbed my back and said, It’s going to be fine, dear.

As I walked in, I saw my mom, dad, grandma, and my aunt Violet, and even her husband wasn’t allowed in. The minister asked if we were pleased with the events of the day, and we assured him that everything was to our liking on his end. We spoke for a few in regard to the service, but then it was down to business: the reading of the will.

I remember it in this order. First up was my aunt Violet, and the will read, To my only daughter, Violet, I leave you my music collection and my BMW. My aunt laughed and cried at the same time, saying that they always use to listen to music together and that she would miss that.

My mom and dad went next and for them the will read, To my son, Fredrick, and his wonderful helpmate, Tasha, I leave my golf clubs, Mercedes, and fishing boat.

My mom and dad were speechless, and I felt like my dad was overwhelmed of the moment in general. Now it was down to two of us! Third was Grandma, even though I just knew it would be me, and it read, To my wife, although we have been separated, I want u to have the home we both built and any money I have in any account or out of.

Grandma seemed to be overjoyed but deeply saddened.

Now it was my turn as I wondered what there was left to give and these words were said, To my wonderful grandson, you brought me much joy in life, so I give you my greatest treasure—I leave you my faith. I reflected on the ride back to the church and how I was hoping and even praying for something nice to remember Grandpa Miller by. I felt like that couldn’t have been all he left to me considering how close we were. So I sat waiting for the rest but that was it, and I waited for nothing. Everyone looked at me, but my grandmother’s eyes filled with tears as she jumped out of her seat. She was on her knees as she repeated Please don’t change over and over again.

I stood up and picked her up and said, I still love Grandpa and you. Nothing will change that, although I’m disappointed Grandpa left me something I already had.

Grandma repeated, don’t