Why I Share My Hurts?

27901465_1840879292591539_759345306_o.png

Growing up without a father in the 90’s seemed to be a household trend. I soon learned that a two-parent household achieved far greater success for parenting. I’m not writing this as woe is me. I’m writing this to say I broke the mold. After the death of my father in the mid-eighties. I was about 4 years old.

I was often told it was a cold day. Somewhere between six and eight in the evening. Walking home from work. Three blocks away from where we lived at 5501 Litchfield St.

I imagine this ending again and again in my head. There he was 6’3. A warm and gentle face always smiling. A slightly bushy beard. Always the life of the party.

On the street, people knew his name. You needed something and he’d give you the shirt right out his back. (I was told)

Anyhow, as night approached. My father’s killer came out of nowhere. Maybe it was planned. Maybe it was a religious sacrifice. Or just pure evil. Being stabbed to death. The blade entered his heart. His attacker swiftly fled from the screen. My father crawled home.

He made it up the stairs. Falling on his mother’s Hammond B organ. My grandmother holding her son in her arms. The first responders rushed him to Mercy Hospital. Three minutes away from our home

We waited…

In the end, the news came. The doctors took desperate measures to save him. However, a minor mistake was made. As they tried to stop the bleeding the Surgeon on call nicked an artery and my father bled out on the table.

Thirty-five years later I tell my children this same story. Why, because they ask where is your dad? For a while, I avoided sharing this. I thought my husband and I could handle parenting without this sad background of my childhood.

Then my aha- moment came when I said. I have nothing to hide and this did not define me. Yes, mother struggled to raise three kids alone. I watched the nights she wept for her husband and the insurmountable task of raising three children without a father.

Yes, we flopped from house to house. Yes, it hurt, not being able to go to the daughter-father school dance. I missed a man I would never get to know.

Therefore writing of him has become the memoir I share beyond the grave.

Braking the mold, I went to college, went on to graduate school. I choose to see my life as a positive. One that I am learning to be open and vulnerable. Therefore I can heal and be made whole.~your kindness sister Krissy Mosley©2018

(photo by Aunt Carla Simmons my father and my mother holding me)

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

Published by: Visionariekind

Krissy Mosley is a story-teller. Recalling history to build bridges of peace. A folklorist to bring sounds of joy and healing vibrations. Krissy Marie is a writer /feminist, mother advocating for change surrounding women’s rights and women's’ issues.

Categories Poetry10 Comments

10 thoughts on “Why I Share My Hurts?”

  1. Thank you for sharing your story and putting that story out into the world, to break the heart of the world … and also to remind those who throw statistics around so wantonly that all the absent fathers did not walk away. Some crawled home to arms that loved them and then had to let them go.

  2. Sweet Krissy! Thank you for sharing your journey. I watched your dad grow into a man on Litchfield Street. Bert was unique in his own way; respectful of me and Mr.Howard at all times. Always willing to help! I was in total disbelief when one of our boys came running in the house screaming at that tragic occurrence. No way that it was true…and WHY!!! All I could think about was MoM &Dad Neal…And VALERIE and you children. Oh my God!
    Krissy, your testimony has provided healing for me and others; of which you may never know!
    Krissy, you are a light in this dark world!
    Keep writing!!!! May God bless you with HIS MERCY PEACE AND LOVE ABUNDANTLY!
    We love you,

    1. Mrs. Jakson wow, this made my heart glad to share this moment with me. Brought many tears to my eyes. I do not say this lightly, thank you so much for giving me these words. It’s like pieces of a different life altogether- if he would have lived. So thank you, 🙂 love, you too

  3. Krissy, my love, l myself would like to thank you for sharing a piece of your Father, your Life, with us, the world & especially with the one’s of us, whom most dearly loved Bert, Krissy, Bert was like the Man of Men, his heart was so loving, smh, he was a type person, if u asked anything of him, he would try & do his Damnest to help out!!! In other words, Bert was definitely a go too man for things, fixing cars, knowing Iron work, roofing, all kinds of things, but what he cherish the most was being a husband, & who was in Love with his Children, (lawd, have mercy), lol, but that was him, now dont get me wrong tho, he had his moments, u rub Bert the wrong way, u may have wished u could suddenly, take back what u said or did to him, lol, but all in all your father was a good person, & a truly loved person those who got to know him would say the same thing……
    I will say this tho, l had never seen a Funeral so long, car length long, since l was a child myself, & that’s when Mom’s Mother passed away, ( smiling to my self) “G” had to get out the, limo, in uniform of course, to stop traffic so all the cars could, come in Rolling Green Cemetery, lol, just a bit of memory for me, looking back, again, Krissy, Thank u again For Sharing, the love we all had for your Father, my Brother, writing this with lot of love in my heart, for u, Carla

    1. wow Aunt Carla, I had no idea. Thank you for sharing these words, I truly mean it. This story is made alive again with the photo and the out pour of these words. I can’t thank you enough. Don’t be surprised if you see your name in the book. Also it won’t be ready for while but I’m making sure it will be in print. lol Love thank you a thousands times over. love you ~Krissy

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s