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Generations Raising Themselves:

I’m more myself now than I ever was.
When I look in the mirror. I don’t see the sad eyed-girl with low self-esteem. Or the abandonment of my mother. To have a second husband and leave us. That was her choice.

To leave her kids with their grandmother during their teenage years. (Never -mind my dead father).

As I bent down to tie my shoe. I let my mind wander back, to that girl, I used to be. On the floor of grandma’s corner house, faced down into the carpet. Hands over my face. I’m barely breathing. Tears falling out the sides.

My brother and his friends are teasing me for wearing the same winter hat.  Day in, day out I wore that hat. It was starting to be really hot. I still hadn’t put a comb to my hair. Let alone, look at that hot mess sitting on my head. So I did, what I thought most 13-year-olds do when no ones looking. I stuck a wool hat on my head and kept it moving. Until those boys snatched it off.

Then all that shame, all that matted-down nappy-shame ran over me. My younger cousin walked in the middle of my disgrace. In the middle of their full on the enjoyment of sheer bullying. She covered me with her love. Being all grown, at six years old. She wiped my tears. Pulled my body off the floor.

I made it. Past their scrutiny, past their foul words. Past the reget of not knowing how to take care of myself.

We’d become best friends that day. She too needed a mother. I cooked her meals, walked her to school. She introduced me to an old school beautician in our neighborhood. The rest is history
God is good like that.~your kindness sister Krissy Mosley

Reconciliation Requirements — praypower4today

As our government transitions from one president to the next, most of us are praying for peace. I include myself in their number. What I cannot stand behind, however, is the call to “forgive and move on.” To explain, I must bring in my Catholic upbringing. In the sacrament of Reconciliation, two things are required. […]

Reconciliation Requirements — praypower4today

What Are We Reading In The New Year? Breaking & Living??

Finishing up Poisoner in Chief by Stephen Kinzer, this book needs to be taught in public schools. I’m starting Myrlie Evers-Williams “Watch Me Fly” I can’t put this book down…So many books on my to do list~ oh, my,my..☕

This has been a year of all years, to say the least. I’m at a lost for words, and I’m broken with the rest of the world. For the things I can never have back. The sweet phone calls of loved ones on the other end, the comedy of friends in passing. After the death of my mother in April, I believe, that’s where the bottom fell out. Shortly thereafter the sudden death of my neighbor in August. I felt like crying about it wasn’t enough. Praying wasn’t enough. My lamenting seemed to consume all of me at times. I wanted to stop and take notice. I had no choice but to do so ,as my life seemed to take an abbreviated pause in happiness & living.

And even through this, people are losing their homes, their very reason for living.

and yet, I’m encouraged to pick up the pieces, smothered in empathy and affection, I’m here & I’m with you, with the help from the almighty,(Great Spirit) we must carry on…

Puddles of Humans: Aka when the ashes speak

In that of what we are living art transformed, for some of us, the most brutal and teeth cutting existence through the fluidity of colorless liquid of miracles, flowing out of our bodies, blood like water, to watch our souls pounding in cadence, oh’ how, we must sing the Lord’s song in a strange land” ~Krissy Mosley ( art for justice) Black &White

Dear God, Restore Us…

Its’ been harder than ever, to write and breathe so deeply. To do the work of restless breathing, touching wounds that haven’t quite healed correctly, I am afraid.

these scars will fester, these scars won’t jester…

feel them, my knees are hard as black coals,

feel them, my heart swallows shadows,

feel them my feet are swollen in grief,

and yet,

O’ God I’m still here…. (written by the author of this blog)

written and spoken by the author of this blog, kindness sister Krissy Mosley