March 16, 2012
I slept peacefully last night. However, my energy level was low this morning.. I tried but I could not make an appointment I had scheduled for late morning. Rescheduled. Fed my babies. Ate breakfast. Then, settled in front of my laptop.
My cousin Deb, sent me a link to my Aunt Grace’s obituary. Funeral on Monday, March 19, 2012. Her will be a viewing one hour before her funeral.
My whole body is sore and aches. I have a slight pain in my stomach, right shoulder and down the right side of my body. I don’t need my surgeon to tell me that my cancer has spread. I can feel it. From my initial diagnosis, I felt the cancer had spread more than the doctors thought. They were very concerned with the test results but told me very little except what I needed to know. I was told that the results of the dye test would determine what they would need to remove in surgery. From there treatment options would be discussed.
I speak to Jesus everyday, morning, noon, and night. I especially like to start my day with prayers, and end my day with prayers. During the day, I have a casual conversation with Jesus about my health, my past, my family, and friends. I have been doing a lot of reminiscing lately about my childhood. Growing up, I focused so much on the bad memories, that I almost let the good memories slip away, Now when I look back, I smile fondly when I recall my the events, places, schools I attended, family and friends. My adult life began when I made a move half way across he country to try to get my life together.
I arrived in San Antonio, Texas on January 5, 1975. I was alone with two suitcases and $250.00 in my pocket. My airline ticket was a one way fare. I had never been to San Antonio before. The university I chose to attend, Our Lady of the Lake University, had an excellent Speech Pathology and Audiology Program that I interested in completing. On May 8 1977 (Mother’s Day) surrounded by my mother, brother Thomas, his wife, and close friends, I graduate from Our Lady of the Lake with a Bachelor’s of Art Degree.
January 5, 1975 was a Sunday. My plane touched down at 1:15a.m. in the morning. There were very few people in the airport terminal at that hour of the morning. One building made up the terminal. The airplanes did not pull up to the airport. You had to embark the plane while it was parked on the tarmac. Portable stairs were wheeled up to the plane. You exited the plane via the stairs and walked across the tarmac to gain access into the airport terminal. Today, the San Antonio International Airport is made up of several terminals, with many airlines flying in and out daily, people coming and going day and night, and plenty of transportation choices to take you anywhere in the city. At one fifteen in the morning there was almost no one in the small terminal. After several attempts to get a ride to the nearest airport without luck, and elderly African-American gentleman approached me and asked me if I needed a ride to a hotel. He was a worker at the airport. I told him yes and asked him if he knew where I could get a taxi, bus, or hotel shuttle to the nearest hotel. He told me they all stop running at 10:00p.m. when the last evening flight arrives. I asked him where the nearest hotel was located. If it was close, I thought I could walk to hotel. He said there was one very close to the airport, just outside the airport’s main entrance. He offered to give me a ride to the hotel. I accepted.
Mr. Fisher was his name. He was a janitor at the airport. He had two daughter of his own about ready to attend college themselves. Mr. Fisher was a kind man, calm, patient, and the epitome of the laid back southerner. He drove a 1946 Ford pick-up truck. Nothing fancy. Just practical. We drove to the hotel where he took my bags, walked me into the lobby, and delivered me to the hotel clerk, saying, “This young lady needs a room for the night.” Then, he told me he would check on me in the morning, and if I needed a ride to the university, he would be happy to take me. I had never seen this man before in my life. He was such a blessing to me, such a kind face and gentle person. I thanked him and told him I would see him in the morning. I checked into my room, and without changing lay across the bed and fell asleep.
During my trip from Baltimore to San Antonio the same thoughts continuously ran through my mind; What will life be like in Texas? What will my fate be? What future do I have in Texas? Will I complete college and earn a degree? Will I fail? What will I be doing 10 years from now, Twenty-years? Thirty Years? I had great difficulty envisioning my future, growing up believing I had none. I knew if I had any chance of making something out of my life, I had to leave Baltimore and my family. I could not continue to grow under the family problems that cast such a gloomy shadow over our lives. I had to get away to find out who I was, what my purpose was in life, what I was going to do with my life. I was quite unsure of my future but I knew one thing, I wanted to do something with my life. So, I struck out by myself, alone in Texas with a dream, and a promise to myself-I was not going to fail. I was twenty-one years old.
The next morning, true to his word, Mr. Fisher was at the hotel at 9:00a.m. I had just eaten breakfast in the hotel restaurant, when he showed up at the hotel front desk. He told me that if I was ready, he would drive me to the university. It took us thirty-minutes to get to the university. I checked in with the dorm resident director, was given my room key, then went up to my room with Mr. Fisher in tow carrying my bags. I offered to give him money for his efforts, He would have none of it. He handed me a piece of paper with his name, his wife’s name, and his daughters name, and phone number. Said if I ever needed anything, call his family. Someone would help me. We shook hands and parted ways. Mr. Fisher was about seventy-years old, gray hair, tall man in overalls, who walked with a slight limp. He was the most handsome sight to welcome me to Texas. Two years later, I met his oldest daughter who was also a student at the university. She was just as kind a person as her father.
The next four years went by so quickly, until one day in September 1978, I had landed my first job in education working with hearing impaired infants and their parents as an itinerant teacher in a small town just north of San Antonio. In January, my plans to live in Texas took an unexpected turn when I was awarded a fellowship fo a school for the deaf in New York. I left Texas on February 18, 1979. After four years in Texas, I was returning to the east coast where my journey began. Now, what would the future hold for me?
“The earth, O Lord, is full of thy steadfast love;
Teach me thy statutes
Though has dealt well with thy servant, O Lord,
According to thy word.
Teach me good judgement and knowledge,
For I believe in Thy commandments.
Before I was afflicted I went astray.....
Psalm 119:64-67
