You don’t know Angela but I do. You don’t know….HER. I call
her An-jella (with the Ang part pronounced like you would say Angel). My God,
she is a living, breathing, walking this earth, live in the flesh, oxymoron. A
beautiful contradiction I might add. I may have met a few but don’t recall
because they don’t define it like she does for me to even remember.
She’s never lied to me before so I didn’t have a reason to,
but I didn’t believe her today when I asked her how was she doing and feeling.
I really needed to know because it matters. See, it matters because PARENTING
is challenging enough but with AUTISM, it’s a beast, BILLS are fucking
relentless and CANCER is bitch. So I asked her for picture to prove to me her
current state of being. I’ve been shielded from seeing her through her journey
of healing but today I got to see with my own two eyes.
When I saw her in the picture, I expected to see Angela.
Instead I saw An-jella. I saw that beautiful contradiction. My cousin who is
like a sister to me is so strong, but very fragile. I know her. I’ve experienced
her as bird with both wings broken and witnessed her as a blazing phoenix. I tell you, seeing her with no cushion where
thick curly hair used to be under her black and white flowered head wrap, no
make- up, tattoo accompanied scared body and a smirk just gave me life!
In that photo I saw her mother, my mother, our past, our
relationship, her healing, her beauty, Tay, Mason & Maurice, life and well-being
either way. I asked her how she was doing. She said she was good and you know
what? SHE WAS! It did my heart really really good. I couldn’t be more proud of
her if I wanted to. GI Jane ain’t got shit on my An-jella!
