I could smell it; the scent of the first drops of rain
against my brain registering that there was a storm stirring in my soul. It’s
been said that in life you are always doing one of three things: entering a
storm, exiting one or trying to hold on in the midst of one. Except for an occasional
shower or two, the sun was radiating brightly in my life. But I knew the rain
was coming. Felt it swirling around me. Didn't know the direction it was
coming. I couldn’t anticipate the extent of the downpour. I just knew that I
was going to need something to get me through.
It started as soon as the school year ended. A trip to the
emergency room turned into a hospital stay for my elderly mother. She had
pneumonia. She stayed a few days, followed up with her primary care physician
and things were on the mend. Then I had to leave and go out of state to be with
my niece who was having surgery. I have been in and out of hospitals so many
times that I almost hate them. I said goodbye to both my father and my oldest
sister in the hospital. But in spite of my fear, I ignored the knots in my
stomach and push forward. My mother was fine; my niece would be, too.
Her surgery went well, so I thought I’d a reprieve from the
rain until I returned from vacation. Wrong! My friend and traveling partner was
complaining constantly of pain and malaise. And for someone who doesn’t like
going to doctor until she falls over—sometimes literally--was actually doing
what she was supposed to, but she wasn’t feeling any better. She felt so bad
that she decided not to take the trip. I knew then that she felt bad because
she would never miss a trip! Then my mother started feeling bad again. It was
raining on my head. I wanted to stay home.
I am not my mother’s only child, and I could not do anything
for my friend. I felt helpless, but I had to relinquish my false sense of
control. I had to accept that I am a mere mortal and to let go and let God take
control. So, I decided to take my trip because I knew it would be still raining
when I returned. The storm was brewing, but I had a temporary shelter.
The trip was to Toronto for a literary treat with the
Literary Sisters. The Literary Sisters, started by Ruth Bridges, is a group of
women from all over the country who gather in different places to discuss
literature and anything else on their minds. Sometimes they gather in a place
to talk to authors about their works, and other times they’re traveling around
the world. This was my third trip.
And for me, it was a much needed retreat. I sat in the
company of brilliant and beautiful Black women from all over the country and
from all walks of life with a shared passion for literature; it was and/ is a gratifying experience. I am a reader, and every time I’m in
the company of the Literary Sisters I learn how much reading I still have left
to do! Being with them is like sitting in the front row of the classroom of
life.
There’s no cattiness. No competition. It is a gathering of warm
and wonderful women. We talked about books, current events, our lives. We
experienced the beauty of Niagara Falls and the hustle and bustle of Toronto.
Due to bad weather, only one author was able to fly in for the retreat. But in
this day of Kindles and Nooks, it was good to listen to the New York Times
best-selling author Kimberla Lawson Roby to not only read from her book, Perfect
Marriage, but to also autograph keepsake copies of her other books.
For an extended weekend, I found peace in the midst of the
storms swirling around in my life. I shared meals, conversations, and knowledge
with a wonderful group of women who cocooned me from the pellets being hurled
at my heart.
I returned home refreshed, renewed and ready to do battle
with the health care system that is denying my mother the right to quality
health care, and to support my friend who was diagnosed with cancer. I maybe be
standing in the eye of the storm, but thanks to my Literary Sisters, I am also
able to find a sliver a peace in this place. Thank you!
