SeasonedSistah

Mother-Daughter Vacation

I am a SeasonedSistah with more “years of past memories” than “years of future living,” valuing and cherishing every moment I am with family and friends.

For the past four summers, my daughters have gifted ME with a one-week “Mother-Daughter Vacation ” in Martha’s Vineyard. The grands will join us if they have no summer program scheduling conflicts. Two of my grandsons, CJE (13 years) and GPK (17 years) tagged along. During this vacation, I am comforted, spoiled, loved, and treated like a SeasonedSistah Queen.

This summer, I stepped out of my “comfort zone” and tried the camera functions on my IPAD and IPHONE. The quality is not the best, but I really enjoyed taking the pictures. So much so, I plan to purchase a camera and look into a photography class this fall.

I love spending “quiet time” with my “visual memories”

Rental Abode

They rent the same house every year. It is spacious, comfortable, and the kitchen is well-equipped with cooking utensils and small kitchen appliances for both “simple” and “gourmet” meal preparations.

Three Special Eateries

First Night “Must Have”

Mid-Week Lunch – Seafood Lunch

(Sidebar – Our POTUS arrived the day after we left the Vineyards)

Transportation

I luv riding around the Island in the open top jeep.

The Daily Roundup – Rocking Chair Haven

Daytime Views from Front Porch

Sunset View from Front Porch

Views from Oak Bluff’s Dock

Daughters

Grands

Other Daughter from Another Mother

The Other Daughter was “on-the-go” for the entire week. After biking or running every day, she willingly transported and chaperoned the grands along with her son for trips to the beach and other Island activities. Daughters and I relaxed on the porch, read our IPADS and rocked in our chairs for most of the day. Thank You Other Daughter.

I really enjoyed my “Mother-Daughter” vacation; and, the “visual memories” will carry me through until the family comes together for the Thanksgiving Holiday.

Retirement with Hubby in Florida these past three years opened up time for us to reflect on our lives as well as pursue new adventures. But, I do miss the regular face-to-face contact with my children and grands.

Weekly Wishes #1

I am a five year-breast cancer survivor. Sadly, there is no cure for breast cancer. In an effort to avoid a re-occurrence, I must set up a healthy relationship with my “mind, body and spirit.” No longer do I want to sabotage my survival, I am a Creation of God and must learn to Honor and Love “ME.”

My long-term WISHES as I embark upon this journey to live a Healthier Lifestyle are to “eliminate negative behaviors” and “implement positive actions.”

The following are WISHES I plan to fulfill during Week #1

Exercise – 30 to 60 minutes daily.
Hydrate – minimum eight glasses of water daily
Meditate – 20t o 30 minutes daily.
Sleep – 7 to 8 hours nightly.
Food – reduce/eliminate carbs, sugar, caffeine, fats, soda.

So excited to join other blogs like Stages of Gold and Postcards from Rachel as I tread down this path to a healthy and positive way of living.

Can’t wait to share the results of Week #1 with you on Monday, September 2.

Old Travelers

Earlier this year, I wrote a blog post about childhood summer vacations with my grandparents who lived in a small rural town in the Mississippi Delta. “Black Travelers” is a sad but true recollection of the “special accommodations” we had to make as Black people when traveling by car and vacationing during the Jim Crow and Pre-Civil Rights eras.

“Old Travelers” is my story today about Hubby and ME traveling in our seventies.

Since moving to Florida more than three years ago, we have flown back to our former home in Milwaukee, Wisconsin at least two-three times per year without a problem.

This year, we just couldn’t get it right. Nothing catastrophic, but enough to make us realize we needed a “special accommodation” travel plan to avoid things like —

• Mistake #1 – Departing to Milwaukee – Orlando International Airport
Everything was going smoothly. There were no long lines at either the airline’s check in or security points.

Hubby and I: (1) boarded the Air Rail to our concourse; (2) walked the entire concourse looking for our departure gate number without success; and (3) finally decided to check with an airline attendant, who politely said, “your flight is leaving from our other concourse.”

Oh Heck No!!! We had only thirty minutes to (1) reverse our long walk; (2) re- board the Air Rail; (3) board the correct Air Rail; and (4) walk the concourse in search of our departure gate, of course, it was at the end. But, we made it. Thank You Father for leading us to exercise at the YMCA 16 years ago.

• Mistake #2 – Oh, No You Didn’t
Finally, I am sitting comfortably on the plane, totally exhausted, and looking forward to this three-hour early morning flight as a well deserved “rest period”. The announcement came over the intercom, “turn off all-electronic equipment in preparation for takeoff. “ Out of the blue Hubby asked, “Did I close the garage door?” Since, I had no idea; he telephoned the taxi driver who always transports us to the airport. He didn’t know. But, kindly volunteered to go and check. Fortunately, Hubby had just enough time to give him our garage keypad code before the flight attendant’s final walk-through.

I slept through the entire flight. Sadly, Hubby worried about whether he had left the garage door open.

We landed in Milwaukee. And, when the announcement came on that it was okay to turn on cell phones, Hubby telephoned the transportation service driver.

The bad news, Hubby did not close the garage door.

The good news, the transportation driver with the assistance of an unknown neighbor successfully entered the security code and closed the garage door.

The best news, there are honest people in this world.

Everything was in its place. Nothing was missing. Believe it or not, Hubby and I never expected anything different. Why? We believed in the trustworthiness of our unknown neighbor and transportation driver.

• Mistake #3 – Returning to Orlando – Mitchell Airport, Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Hubby printed out our boarding passes the evening before. The airline transit service picked us up from our son’s home at 6:00 a.m. for a flight departure time of 8:50 a.m.

Arrived at airport within 30 minutes. We found the right concourse this time (hurrah!!). There was plenty of time to have coffee and a bagel before we walked the short, short distance to our departure gate.

When we reached the departure gate at 8:25 a.m. the airline attendant said, “your flight departed at 8:20 a.m. – we paged you on the intercom.” No, we didn’t. Why, we had no idea?

Convinced there was no way he could have gotten the time wrong, Hubby checked our boarding pass. To his dismay, the departure time on the boarding pass was 8:20 a.m.

The only option left was a 3:45 p.m. direct flight to Orlando. Hubby spent most of this wait time questioning how he could have made such a mistake and repeatedly asking whether I was upset with him.

Frankly, it was a fun day for me – IPAD reading time, relaxing time, sleeping time, people watching time, and margarita time along with a great lunch. Saved the best for last — an Auntie Annie’s pretzel, to eat on the flight.

Our vacation this year, confirmed the need for Hubby and Me to develop a “special accommodation” plan. After all, we are “Old Travelers”.

Weekly Writing Challenge: Fit to Write

Impressive writing on what chronic pain patients might encounter on any given day. Having lived with chronic pain since 1993, I can relate.

Remembering “ME” – Part 3

“This is the third in a series of three articles, responding to

questions about my early childhood and teenage years.”

What was the TV show that you never missed?

My addiction to the dance show, American Bandstand, began in 1956. Monday through Friday from 3:30 to 5:00 p.m. our 12-inch television set controlled my life. With the exception of taking a break during the commercials to prepare dinner for Mama and me.

The regular dancers on the show were “real to me” and “lived” in my “fantasy community”. Some were enemies; many were friends and, a few I even considered as my best friends. My favorite dance on the show was the “The Stroll.”

I talked on the telephone for hours with my girlfriends about the popular girl dancers — their dancing styles, boyfriends, friendships, fashions, and hairstyles. All of this information we gathered, shared, and debated everyday. Our reviews based solely on what we observed during this 90-minute show.

But, after three years of following this show, not one of us asked the question, “Why no Black dancers ever appeared on the show?”

Confess what did you wear as a teenager that you would never wear now.

I loved clothes as a teenager. Frankly, I love clothes today. But, I digress.

One of my favorite outfits, as a teenager, was the wide tailed, felt skirt with the Poodle on a Leash and a coordinating blouse.

Mama felt a young woman was never fully dressed unless she had on a “princess slip.”

A new or stiffly starched petticoat under the skirt was mandatory if you wanted that perfect look.

Nicely polished black/white shoes and complementary bobby socks completed the look.

As I look back on my childhood and teenage years, for the most part, they were happy times. I am Grateful to God for these beautiful memories.

Remembering “ME” – Part 2

“This is the second in a series of three articles, responding to

questions about my childhood and teenage years.”

What was the toy you remember most from your childhood?

I only got toys at Christmas and before January ended, they were either broken or forgotten.

As a child, I spent most of my time playing different games

Jacks

Hopscotch

Double Dutch

Paper Dolls

Old Maid Cards

These activities were easily replaced when lost or broken.

I also read a lot and visiting the neighborhood library every other week brought many new adventures into my life. I read every book, some more than once, in the Nancy Drew Mystery Series.

Mama struggled for many hours trying to teach me embroidery. Though, I loved the beautiful pieces she created, I lacked the patience to complete a project. Maybe, I’ll try this again.

What movie do you remember seeing as a teenager?

Though I saw this movie in 1959, thinking about it still brings tears – “Imitation of Life.” I remember going to the movie with a friend; and, we both cried throughout the movie.

The film tells the story of a white actress and a homeless black widow who move in together. The Black mother and her young light-skinned daughter need a place to live; and, the white actress was looking for a live-in childcare for her daughter.

Problems arise years later when the light-skinned daughter decides to past for white and totally rejects her mother. Despite the mother’s pleas, the daughter refuses to reconcile. And, after a number of failed attempts to reunite with her daughter, the mother dies from a broken heart.

The funeral takes place — in a large and beautiful church, a Gospel Choir, a solo by Mahalia Jackson, a long procession with a white horse-drawn hearse just as the mother had requested. Shortly, before the procession begins the daughter throws herself upon the casket and asked for forgiveness.

Everyone left the theater crying.

Remembering “ME” – Part 1

“This is the first in a series of three articles, responding to

questions about my childhood and teenage years.”

What was the first news event you remember?

A 12-year old latchkey kid, home alone on a very cold day in December, I was terrified after hearing this television announcement — “the world is coming to an end.”

I decided this was a real emergency; and, called Mama at work to warn her of this “pending disaster.” Mama reprimanded me for breaking her #1 Rule, “not to call work unless it’s an emergency.” She thought I made this story up so that she could come home early. I never convinced Mama that I was telling the truth.

Fifty-eight years later with Wikipedia at my fingertips, I found proof …

“World Coming to An End

A Chicago area housewife, Dorothy Martin,

claimed to have received a message from a

fictional planet named Clarion. These

messages revealed that the world would

end in a great flood before December 21, 1954.”

This time I was telling the truth. However, there were other times when I made up stories best described by the fable, “The Boy who Cried Wolf.”

What song makes you think of your teenage years?

I met Hubby when I was 12-years-old and visiting, over the summer, with my grandparents in Mississippi. However, he insists we met when I visited his first grade class with a cousin. I have no memory of this.

But, I do remember the summer of 1958. I was a 15-year-old who discovered for the first time a “real and true love.” This major life-changing event happened following a fun-filled evening at a local teenage dance.

Two popular records pulled us closer together; and, we both decided these were our “special songs.”

Rockin Robin by Bobby Day, symbolically there was no relationship between the words of this tune and this “real and true love.”

“He rocks in the tree tops all day long

Hoppin’ and a-boppin’ and a-singing his song

All the little birds on Jaybird Street

Love to hear the robin go tweet tweet tweet..”

This was the first record that we ever danced to. We hit the floor, quickly adapting to the fast-paced rhythm; and, our steps were smooth, coordinated and effortless as if we had danced together for years.

For Your Love by Ed Townsend a slow-moving love song which did symbolize our “real and true” with lyrics like “For your love, I’d give you everything, and that’s for sure. For your love. I’d bring you diamond rings to your door….”

At seventy-years-old, the lyrics and music are just nice memories of an earlier time. But, at fifteen, every word and lyric reminded me of this newfound “real and true love.”

After fifty-three years of marriage, saying with confidence, Hubby is my first “real and true love.”

I am sick and tired of being sick and tired….

I struggled with writing this post; but I had to speak out after the Travon Martin trial.

A young military wife, in 1963, with two toddlers, sitting in our cramped living room, watching the March on Washington, listening to Dr. Martin Luther King’s speech; and, realizing, his dream was the “dream” I wanted for my son and daughter.

“I HAVE A DREAM that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true

meaning of its creed: We hold these truths to be self-evident,

that all mean are created equal.

I HAVE A DREAM that my four little children will one day live in a

nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by

the content of their character.”

Back then, I was hopeful and optimistic that a change was gonna come. Today, fifty years later, I am disappointed and pessimistic wondering how long is it gonna take.”

I am sick and tired of being sick and tired[1] — of the racial injustices where people continue to be Judged by the Color of their Skin.”

Emmett Till

I lived in FEAR throughout most of my teenage years. Though, only 13-years-old, even today, I vividly recall the murder of Emmett Till on August 28, 1955. He was a 14-year-old African-American male, from Chicago, visiting his grandfather in Mississippi. Two white men decided to end Emmett’s life. Why, because he either, whistled at, flirted with, or touched the hands, of a white cashier at a grocery store.

Brutally beaten, mutilated, shot in the head; his young body was tied up with barbed wired and dumped in the river. Despite overwhelming evidence, on September 23, 1955 his two assailants were acquitted. The Jim Crow Laws allowed Emmett to be “Judged by the Color His Skin.”

With the exception of gender, Emmett’s life pretty much mirrored mine. I, too, lived in Chicago and visited my grandparents in Mississippi every summer. During those visits, they schooled me on what was acceptable behavior for a young black girl in Mississippi. On the first day of my visit, they reminded me to “say yes mam, no mam, look down, speak quietly, never question or talk back to white folks. They don’t play here you ain’t in Chicago.”

Travon Martin

On February 26, 2011, this seventeen-year-old boy was shot and killed at about 7:00 p.m. while walking home on a rainy night in the gated community where he was visiting his father. Killed because “HE WAS JUDGED BY THE COLOR OF HIS SKIN,” Mr. Zimmerman assumed an African-American male teenager, wearing a hoodie was a thug; and, therefore, a threat to him and others who lived in this gated community.

Loud voices cried out for justice and after some 45 days he was finally charged. A jury trial resulted in a Not Guilty verdict. Under Florida’s Stand Your Ground Law, Mr. Zimmerman had the right to shoot rather than retreat.

As the grandmother of three young African American males, ranging in age from 13-24, I identify with what happened to Travon. Living in a gated community, about 20 miles from where Travon was killed, we now have “safety guidelines” for our three grandsons to follow when they visit. I am frustrated that my grandchildren are forced to deal with the FEAR of DEATH because someone

Chooses to Judge by the Color of Skin; and
Understands the protection afforded under the Stand Your Ground Laws.

Like Jim Crow, Stand Your Ground Must Go

“I am sick and tired of being sick and tired”

[1] Fannie Lou Hamer, Civil Rights Activist

Hubby: The Author

When Hubby told me He planned to write a book, I absent-mindedly replied, “great idea.” But, silently, I thought, “this will never happen.” Though, I knew Hubby had a story to tell, I doubted whether He would be able to –

set aside the time required to write a book.

limit or end relationships with the “circle of people” He had devoted so much time to since retiring?

understand the “circle of people” would continue to live their lives and survive, maybe even thrive, without His input support, feedback, comments and/or encouragement.

To my surprise, Hubby laid off:

MSNBC News (Alex, Andrea, Tamron, Krystal, Toure, Ari, Chris, Al, Rachel, Lawrence, Chris, Steve, Ed, and Melissa)
Basketball Games
Football Games

But, the one “circle relationship” He remained loyal to, His idol, Tiger Woods. Every time Tiger plays, Hubby retreats, hibernates, and focuses on watching the game of golf. After the last 18^th Hole is played, He reappears and comes back to Me and our life together.

Underestimating Hubby, after fifty-three years of our “up close and personal relationship, was a BIG MISTAKE. I, of all people should have known Hubby would write and publish His book of memoirs. Why, because he said so. And, when He sets a goal – it happens.

Meet The Author

The Son of A Sharecropper Achieves the American Dream

by James C. Thomas

Introduction

I am a 70-year-old black male who was born in Mississippi in 1941 to an 18-year-old unwed mother with one child. My parents were sharecroppers. I did not know my biological father until I was 15 years old. I grew up in dire poverty in the pre-Civil Rights south, chopping and picking cotton for ten hours a day, eight months of the year. I was a high school dropout and had my first child out-of-wedlock, at the tender age of 17. One year later I married my beautiful 17-year-old-childhood sweetheart and by age 26 I was the father of four children. By age 33, I had obtained a Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees from the University of Wisconsin-Madison. I overcame my difficult beginnings to become the successful person I am today.

This year my wife Yvonne and I celebrated our 52^nd anniversary. Thanks to a lot of hard work and God’s blessings, I now live in Brown Deer, Wisconsin, a suburb of Milwaukee, and have a winter home in a gated community in Orlando, Florida. I live in a beautiful house, have a large collection of African-American art, and mementos, drive a luxury car, and am not without resources and material comforts. I am surrounded by treasured books by William Faulkner, James Baldwin, Richard Wright, Ralph Ellison, W.E. B. DuBois, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Marcus Garvey, and numerous other authors who have written about the African-American experience in America. I am truly blessed with a rich network of friends going back to elementary school including my best friend, my loving wife Yvonne. I have four children, eight grandchildren, and three great-grandchildren, all blessed with good health and sound minds, and pursuing outstanding careers.

My story and my family’s story is about being black in this country – an honest story about how much progress has been made, but also about how much progress needs to be achieved. I faced many hardships and struggles as a poor black boy growing up in 1950s Mississippi. But my struggles and hardships didn’t end when I moved to the north and began my professional career in business and government service. While I was no longer chopping and picking cotton ten hours a day, I was still in ways treated like a second-class citizen. This book, then, is a cautionary tale about attitudes that have not changed fast enough and the progress that still needs to be made.

At the same time this is not a memoir by an angry black man. Rather, it is a story of hope and perseverance – about how I overcame tremendous odds to achieve success and the American dream. Despite the problems I describe, I’ve had many more victories, and I am thankful to my family, friends, colleagues, and country for the opportunities and achievements that have blessed my life.

I hope you enjoy this book. May it inspire you to tell your own story. (James C. Thomas, Orlando, FL, August 1, 2012)

To My Hubby On Your First Book

Kudos, Congratulations, Hats Off, Well Done, Great Job, Outstanding, Superb, Tremendous, Exceptional

We Are A Seasoned Couple

Dedicated to Living Life to Its Fullest

Uwakwe: Overcame The Odds

The University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, Employment and Training Institute recently released a report entitled, “Wisconsin Mass Incarceration of African-American Males: Workforce Challenges for 2013” stated: “two-thirds of the county’s incarcerated African-American men came from 6 zip codes in Milwaukee.”

Uwakwe Omegbu grew up in one of those “zip codes with the highest concentration of released and incarcerated ex-offenders.” But, he Overcame the Odds.

He set a goal.
He worked to reach the goal.
He met the goal

Uwakwe Accomplished His Mission.

He graduated from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee on May 19, 2013 earning a Bachelors of Science Degree with a:

Major in Mechanical Engineering; and
Minor in Computer Science

I first met Uwakwe when he was a 13-years-old middle school student. We hired him to work in our family owned medical practice through a Youth Outreach Program. Working on Saturday mornings picking up paper around our large parking lot, Uwakwe showed up every Saturday whether rain, sleet, or snow to do his job.

By his sophomore year in high school, he had worked his way up to office related tasks and assisting with maintaining our network of computers and servers.

Once in college, internships and trainee opportunities opened up new doors for Uwakwe related to his long-term professional goals.

Internship, Web/Graphic Design, Prism Technical
Research Assistant, School of Information Studies, University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee
Research Assistant, Nanotechnology, College of Engineering and Applied Science, University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee
Internship, Business Process and Technology, S.C. Johnson

Throughout the college years, Uwakwe was always available to help with special projects and assignments at our medical facility.

When I asked Uwakwe how he Overcame the Odds, he quickly answered: