Because I Love You

Mrs. Carol Crooms, The Carol L. Crooms Center, Utica, NY Oracle:  a person or thing regarded as an infallible authority or guide on something.   For our lady of wisdom, love, and light. The woman who dishes out loving food and wisdom, from her home, something she had been doing all her life, but on Sunday October 26, 2003, Mrs. Carol Crooms became The Oracle for my son Cannaday and his college roommate Sam. My daughter Ana and I were in town from Rochester for Pratt at Munson Williams Proctor’s family weekend, and Mrs. Crooms, my dear friend Kim’s mom, had invited us for dinner. I don’t remember the meal but I remember the “dessert”- sitting in Mrs. Crooms’ kitchen, the young men eating at the table with Ana, as Mrs. Crooms lovingly “preached.” She spoke many words of wisdom to them as she served extra helpings on their plates. The young people were quiet, either because their mouths were too full or their ears and minds were too full trying to comprehend the wisdom she was te...

My Manifesto as made aware to me 8/11/2020, taken from my journal. It seems like it was written for today.  Bud and Eleanor 1940's There is not an endless amount of time in our lives to live, do, play, create, and love. Mom told me after Dad passed, “when love enters your life, get as much of it as you can, because you never know how long they will be with you.” I knew she was talking about Dad, their love and marriage of 64.5 years, until his sudden passing in 2006.  Bud & Eleanor 1970's Bud & Eleanor 2000's Love enters our lives in the form of people first and foremost. Only people were made in God’s image. We can have love for pets and living creatures but it’s different and those too are finite. We can have love for our work, projects, activities, and careers but those too are different and limited. They can be satisfying, exciting, fun, and be rewarding for others and ourselves; however, we become confused, led astray when we put “love of pets” and “love of wor...

By Tina Chapman DaCosta, Journal entry 9/11/2016 Tina and Mother Eleanor Cannaday, circa 1966 or 67 Happy Mother's Day Mom! And to all our Moms! I wrote this reflection in my journal 9/11/2016: My earliest memories of “my spot” was sitting on my mother’s lap in church. I was maybe 3 or 4-years old, and after what seemed like a long morning of drawing on the church bulletin, making stick people and coloring with a pencil, I needed my spot. I was no longer satisfied sitting on the hard, well shellacked and butt shined wooden pew next to my mother, nestled in like a rabbit in a hole, boarded by the back of the pew in front of us and the other person sitting next to me. I was entrenched in my rabbit hole coloring, drawing, and swinging my feet as they dangled below the pew. I admired my black patent leather shoes and my white lace socks turned down around my ankles. I liked how the lace flared across my shoes, the contrast of white and black with my mocha colored well-greased legs. Som...

"I'm waiting for you... I'm calling you." “Tina, I’m waiting for you… I’m calling you.”   God, please be my writing companion. Let the Holy Ghost write with me and be  my  ghost writer. Make me lie down in green pastures of comfort when I write. Free me from Fear.  Remove the spirit of Fear that wakes upon me like morning dew. Remove the spirit of Fear that follows me around like a puppy. Remove the spirit of Fear that weighs on me like a sweater, like a scarf, then like a noose. Remove the spirit of Fear that chokes my good ideas.   Give me your Holy Spirit of comfort when I write. Give me your Holy Spirit of peace when I write. Give me your Holy Spirit of truth when I write. Give me your Holy Spirit of joy when I write.   In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.  Thank you!   That’s why I write so well when I’m on vacation. That’s why my journaling began, when I wanted to peacefully reflect upon my experiences just for me. There were no audiences to please....

As my husband José and I toasted the new year at a party with old and new friends, the thought of recent news dampened my optimism for a prosperous new year. Last year ended with a somber realization the new year was going to be grim due to receiving some bad financial news. As Krik Franklin’s song “Intercession” says, “ Jesus please mention my name, see I got some bad news today…, its got me questioning my faith.” Like Kirk, I was questioning my faith too. W hen someone at the party exclaimed, “And a prosperous new decade,” I let go of my dashed hopes and embraced the optimism for the coming new decade. Maybe 2020 would be awful, but 2021, 2022... could be   good again. But that didn’t remove my grim outlook. Then the following events happened, and I was reminded that my circumstances were not defined by my financial or physical abilities; it was going to be a year of abundance anyway!   1) My girlfriend’s son and his wife had a healthy baby girl on New Year’s Day, born about...

I put Aaron on the potty seat in the bathroom, he was 20 months old, then I went into the kid’s bedroom to finish nursing Ana. After I finished with Ana, I heard Cannaday’s high pitch voice coming from another room, “Be still Aaron. Be still.” I was so busy getting ready I forgot Aaron was on the potty seat. It was December 1988 and we were getting ready to attend a Kwanzaa celebration and dinner. This was going to be our first big family outing since having Ana in August. We were living in a two‐bedroom townhome. The bathroom and bedrooms were upstairs and the living room, kitchen, dining room, and family rooms were on the first floor. I assumed their father was in the basement level of our townhouse ironing his clothes. I tightened up my bathrobe and headed for the bathroom down the hall to get Aaron off the potty seat. The light was on, and Aaron was sitting quietly on the “throne” while Cannaday, his 3 ½ year old big brother, was standing in front of him. The “throne” is a pott...

I feel like he is in me and I am in him. Where I am he is also. We have two different bodies but they are not separated. They are joined, intertwined in a way unseen by the naked eye.  I wrote these thoughts about José in our AC period, "after the curb." You see, I thwarted José's advances when we initially met in 2003. I kicked him to the curb, as he would later describe in a poem. It wasn't until we met again in 2005 that I began to open up to getting to know him, to letting him into my life. By 2007, I discovered what love was, what being in love with José felt like, and this is what I wrote in my journal at that time. We feel each other without touching, so when we touch it’s like returning to where we once began, where our lives began, like coming home again, like being held in my mother’s arms again. Being touched and held by you is where I relax and begin a new: a new me, a new breath, a new beginning. When you touch me, I feel your love enter my body. Love tr...

Whatever you want me to be, I’ll be. Wherever you want me to go, I’ll go. Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do. It’s my desire to be……… Just what you want me to be. It’s my desire, my desire.  It’s my desire, to be……. Just what you want me to be.   Those were the words of a song I sang as a kid in Antioch Baptist Church’s youth choir in the 1970’s. Growing up, church songs were the only songs to which I knew all the words. Sometimes I would sing along with the radio to artists like, The Commodores, Teddy Pendergrass, Peabo Bryson, or Earth Wind and Fire, but I mimicked the words I didn’t know. Was it, “Love has found a way in my heart tonight, or “Love has a holiday in my heart tonight,” in Love’s Holiday by Earth Wind? Was Lionel Richie of the Commodores singing, “I’m easy like Sunday morning,” or, “I’m leaving next Sunday morning?” So when I auditioned as a young adult for a community theatre production of Dream Girls, my audition song was a gospel song from church. I don’t r...

“Gone were the weak knees and legs getting ready to crumble, restored were my strong runner legs, dancer body, doing what I do best: rejoice, dance, run, hop, skip and jump. It was hallelujah time! It was praising God time! Between 7-8am EST Tuesday May 19, 2020, I texted Reggie asking how the day had gone, knowing it was about 8-9pm in Japan. His reply, “Mom and baby are stable and doing fine. I’m fine too,” was a normal reply regarding updates on his wife’s condition, our daughter Ana. On Sunday, Reggie told us Ana was in the US Naval Hospital in Okinawa Japan due to early dilation (3cm), our prayers were for her to go full term; she was in her sixth month. When I spoke with Ana Monday night EST/Tuesday morning JPN, she expected to be discharged that day or the next but all was well; but the next information I read in Reggie’s text took my breath away: Hensley Courtland Thomas born Tuesday May 19 Time: 1613 or 4:13PM JPN, 3:13AM EST Length: 13.8 inches Weight: 2lbs 5ozs Gestation: 26...

YES! Thank you! Amen! A conviction for all 3 men responsible for the death of Ahmaud Arbery is a victory and a tragedy. A victory for seeing black people as people whose lives matter, and a tragedy for the lives lost to murder and imprisonment. Healing can begin for Ahmaud's family and the families of the McMichaels and the Bryans. Amen! Ashé! We apologize Mr. Arbery for not seeing you in your fullness and potential when you were among the living. Most of us only saw you in your death. Let's open our eyes, so they are as beautiful as yours, and SEE EVERYONE. Amen! Ashé! https://www.cnn.com/us/live-news/ahmaud-arbery-killing-trial-verdict-watch-11-24-21/index.html