Dear B-L-A-C-K

Black-Coffee2

Dear B-L-A-C-K

How can I count the ways, the different shades of color that BLACK represents? How amazing is it to look at BLACK and instantly think of assorted shades you come in. You have dark chocolate, milk chocolate, espresso, caramel, brown sugar, coffee, hot cocoa, I can go on and on. Isn’t it amazing how BLACK is often related to sweet treats and hot sensations? Why wouldn’t BLACK be compared to such deliciousness? It’s also remarkable how the same color that makes us feel so good could also stand for something else to other people, such things as dirt, tar, s&#*. I’ll stop there.

 I was once asked “Do you like being black?” I answered “NO” and they asked “Why?” I quickly answered, “because I get asked stupid questions like that.” Of course, I love the color of my skin. When I think of B-L-A-C-K I break it down to this: Beautiful. Luxurious. African. Cultured. Kween or Bold. Lavish. African. Cultured. King. Yes, I love YOU! You might not be pleasing to everyone but I love every shade, every misstep, and every hardship and struggle that is associated with you. You make us so different from others, and oh how I love being different from the rest of the world. It’s as if we are a box of chocolate, we are all like the same type of chocolate on the outside but on the inside, there is a different flavor. You ask me how different, I say afflictions of a black person. You ask me what do you like about the afflictions, I simply say where there is pain, there is growth.  I wanted to write you this letter to express my gratitude. There is so much more to you than what meets the eye. That’s why this will not be my last letter to you…let’s talk about somethings that wonder through my mind daily. Especially for a black woman. I want to express my COCOA POWER.

Love,

Angel Latrice

 

Dear Momma

 

Dear Mo12376329_10156687890780263_7983776469066817209_nmma,

 

Annie Selena

 

It’s been 24 years since you’ve been gone. It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long at all. It almost feels like time stood still. I know that may sound crazy but that’s how it is for me. It’s amazing how I finally have the courage to write you this letter after these years, you must know I have a lot to say. First and foremost, I want to say thank you. Thank you for being my mother. I know I barely knew you but I’ve always felt your presence around me, meaning, you have never left me. Over the years, I have found myself thinking how it may have been if you were still living or what if breast cancer didn’t take you away from me. But then I would always have the same response “I don’t want to know.” I believe having you in my life, it would have been spectacular. I would imagine having a “girls brunch” on Saturday mornings, going on shopping sprees and coming home to hide them from dad so he wouldn’t see how much money we had spent.  But not only that, I would think you would have cherished me your wisdom educationally, teaching me wrong from right, and teaching me how to be a well put together lady. You see mom, I would have love to endure that but it wasn’t in Gods will. If I wouldn’t have lost you, I would not have grown the way God intended. To be perfectly honest, I don’t think you ever left me. I know you have never left me because you live within me. You left your presence here on earth that could never be filled. I was so angry with God for the longest as a child and growing older. I would often ask “why did you not allow me to have more time with her?” My brothers, my cousin, and my daddy had longer moments but I only was allowed five years, how is that fair? I was so jealous of them,mom. I had to listen to stories of your great personality and honorable work as a teacher and person. Yeah, I remember some things but I wanted more of your love, a mother’s love. At times, I thought you didn’t love me. I knew it couldn’t have been true because I have heard so many stories that sounded like overflowing love like, my birth, how you fought to have me even when the doctors said, “you might want to abort her because she will be born deformed or mentally retarded” you didn’t care because I was still your child and that’s why my name is angel-yeah dad told me that story. Or how about the time you entered me in a pageant when I was four and bought me so many things so that I would stand out and look beautiful on stage. I remember somethings. I guess I was greedy and wanted more but, I am grateful that you ARE my mother. I see you as a famous heroine the way people still admire you. Do you know how proud that makes me, to be your daughter? Well, mom I didn’t want to make this a long letter, I just can’t help it, I love you that much. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to tell you this. You were and still everything I want to be. I often hear students you taught tell me “Your mom changed my life” I melt every time I hear those words. Thank you, mom, for always being with me in my heart and soul. Every time I look in the mirror, I am reminded that I am your daughter. I am honored. Your legacy still lives on and can’t be replaced. I wish this letter could make it to heaven. I’ll try to make it fly as high as far as possible. I love you.

 

Love, Angel Latrice

 

 P.S Happy Mother’s Day Mom, I’ll try to not cry as much or get jealous of mother daughter appearances.