**sigh** I can't stall anymore. It's after 2:00 in the morning. I have to write it. I told her I would. No... I asked her if I could. Now I'm stalling. But how do I even start something like this? It's not that I don't know what to say. It's that once I start, I'll never want to stop talking because when I do she'll really be gone. **sigh**

Wow... It's today. It looks beautiful outisde- not a cloud in the sky. Something about that seems all wrong somehow. It should be dark and cloudy with buckets of rain to acknowledge all the tears that will fall today. It should be windy and cold- I shouldn't be warm in my bed from the morning sun. I don't feel warm and sunny. I feel dead. But I'm not- she is. I have to get up because class starts promptly at 9:00 and Mrs. Ramaley so doesn't play that late shit. I really can't bear to put on this black dress and these stockings and these dreadfully uncomfortable heels. People will stare at me and mumble incoherently because they don't know what to say. Wait. What am I saying? They're going to stare anyway just because I'm there. But what else am I supposed to do? My presence isn't required until 11:30, so why not go to class? **sigh** I look so normal. When I look in the mirror, I can't see that vast empty space in my chest. I can't see the fear and the anger and the pain. Wait- there it is. It's in my eyes- like anyone will think to look for it there. No time for that anyway; I've got a 25 minute drive and a hopeless search for a parking space. There will be time for pain- not now.

This was a mistake. I'm here on the front row- I see her lips moving, but none of it is making any sense. I just want to go home, curl up in my bed, and die. Not solve pharmacokinetic problems, not pretend that my classmates aren't staring holes in the back of my head. Just die. In peace. Finally it's 9:50 and I can leave. Time to take care of business.

I need to find an orchid... In September. Great, mom! Way to set me up for the impossible task! Two florists and 30 minutes have gone by- now what? I can't show up without the orchid. But I have no makeup on, I haven't changed my clothes, and I have 30 missed calls trying to figure out where I am. One more try... "Ma'am do you have any orchids?". "Yeah, I know... With the hurricane you've only had power for two days. You haven't received your shipment for today yet? But I promised my mom...". THANK GOD. One stem of silk orchids in the back and she's giving it to me- I couldn't show up without this flower. There's something so incongruous about this chapel- she got married here. Why is her funeral here? **deep breath** All you have to do is walk up the side aisle, place the flower on her dress, and leave. You can do this. You can. You have to. It's so dark in here- creepy, even. The sun is shining so brightly outside but the light doesn't seem to be penetrating the glass of the windows. Now THAT seems appropriate. She looks so... Not asleep. That is the biggest lie of all. She doesn't look asleep. She looks... **sigh** here, mommy, I found your orchid. I hope it's okay that it's not fresh. Shit... It's 11:20 and I haven't gotten to the church yet- they are sooo going to kill me. I have the programs in the trunk of my car and the buttons too. Well... Maybe they'll leave without me and I can skip the whole thing. No. She's counting on me and I owe her this. Never mind that I feel like I can't take another step. Never mind that if one more person says "I'm so sorry for your loss," I might really lose something.

Great, they're all here. And the limousines are waiting. "Hey- sorry. Yeah, I know I'm late. I need to change- be right back.". Bastards. How can they even see me? After all, I'm not really here. This is just a really terrible figment of my overactive imagination... Right? But if that's the case, then why are there 50 people dressed in Black staring at me as I run past? Okay Monique. If this is real and you're really here, then you'd better pull it together.

Jesus. There are so many people here and it's not even noon yet. "Hi- thank you.". "Hello- I know... Thank you for coming." "Hi... No, I'm fine.". Oh my God. I didn't realize I'd have to be this close to her. For the entire service. I don't want to see her like this. I don't... Here we go. I keep opening and closing my purse to make sure that my papers are still there, that I haven't forgotten them. What a beautiful song- seems like I should be crying because everyone else is. My grandmother doesn't look so great; my grandfather looks devastated. What must it be like to be this close to your child's lifeless body? You're not supposed to outlive your children. I hope he's okay. Ohhhhh Dr. Harvey, you almost got me! All the way through your tribute and just when I thought it was safe- you broke. Damn you- you're the strong one! You can't cry, you're not supposed to cry. Dr. C, Lowell, Rich... It's almost time. What is she saying? Why is she crying? You weren't that close. All you ever did was envy her. All you ever did was hate on us. She loved you and you were jealous of her. She taught me to love you and you tried to separate us. Get off the pulpit- you don't deserve to cry.

And here we are. I made it up here without falling. Look at all of these peoples' faces... Wait, no, don't look. Are my papers all here? Yes, good. Okay. **inhale**

"My mother had two great passions in her life, and the first was the institution of Hampton University. I can imagine that her days here as an undergraduate were filled with typical collegiate activities and concerns. But a seed was planted; and several years later upon her return as a new faculty member, that seed began to grow into a mighty tree. She loved her students- she would spend many late night in 304 Phenix Hall planning for her classes and seeking new ways to inspire and motivate. Hampton Institute matured into Hampton University, and still she worked. This institution was in her blood and every day she found a new and better way to build on the legacy of Hamptonians who came before her. She was an ardent supporter of Hampton's leadership. I oftten would hear her extolling the virtues of her Home by the Sea to an unfortunate graduate of another university, and she would say: "well yall don't have NOTHIN on the Pirates and you DEFINITELY don't have nothing on Dr. Harvey!".

My mother was never restricted by her duties within the walls of the classroom. From September to November, all things unrelated to her Pirates took a backseat because after all, it was football season! Her Monday classes could always look forward to a spiritied discussion on "her boys-" she knew her team and she didn't play anyone downing her players. And she loved, I mean SHE LOVED her Marching Force. "Monique I'll have to meet you at the game- I'm not missing that opening fanfare!". She has succeeded in turning my entire family into what we call "Force fanatics," and she loved every minute of it. Her tireless support of this great inatitution, her unparalleled devotion to its success, and her model of excellence will continue to reverberate througout this campus as she truly has let her life do the singing.

As much as she loved Hampton University, she nurtured another passion as well, and that passion was me. From December 1977 to September 2003, Sharon White-Williams was on a mission. She accepted this mission with a fierceness and a responsibility that few have ever experienced.

Ours was a special bond, a strong bond- a bond that was sometimes tested, but never ever broken. Now I tried her patience, let me tell you. And I know just like she knew that I worked her LAST nerve some days. But she was laying a foundation- an unshakable fortress for the future. She would sometimes say, "now I won't be here with you forever, so you have to learn to stand on your own.". I used to hate to hear that because I never wanted to think about life "on my own," but I see now that she was right. Nothing tangible lasts forever, and unfortunately our forever was shorter than most. But the plans that she made 26 years ago have finally come to fruition... Here I stand on my own. My mother was ill for some time and I would occasionally watch her and wonder, "how can she be so strong? How has she made it this far?". But in a moment of clarity, I realized that she had to be sure. She had to be sure that the chubby-legged baby whom she loved so much had indeed become the woman that she always envisioned. She had to be sure that her work would go on- that I would continue on the path that she lit for me. She Had to be sure that I wouldn't give up, that two years from now on Mothers Day 2006 that I would be the newest Dr. White in the family. On September 18, she was sure. I know she was at peace and I know that she had finally stopped worrying... It was well with her soul.

And so I am a product of greatness. I follow in the footsteps of a giant, and yet I am not overshadowed. I was loved, I was cherished, and I was groomed for the same greatness as the Whites who came before me. Mommy, you have finally arrived and you have heard the words that you so longed for: "well done, my good and faithful servant, well done.". I applaud you, I respect you, I adore you, I revere you, I emulate you, and I will always keep your memory alive. I hope that every day I will bring a smile to your face as you do to mine, and I just hope that you are proud. You were my mother, my friend, my cheerleader, my PR person, my mentor, my confidante, my idol- the single greatest love of my life.

SATC

Oh.

My.

God.

Blogger, look at her dress.

**gigantic sigh**

**swoon**

Okay, I survived. Sex and the City movie... LOOOOOOOVVVVED!! Me and Mini went to see it last night- well as much as two people in two different time zones can watch the same movie at the same time, lol! LOVED IT!!

Time On My Hands

My goodness... I sooooo need to get back into reading. I was doing so well- sometimes even two books a week. But alas, forgive me bloggers for I have sinned. It has been almost a month since my last Book of the Week posrt. I finally fnished Barbara Walters' "Audition." I only picked t up because all the hoopla surrounding its release piqued my interest. To be honest, I was pleasantly surprised. It did drag a bit in places where she would go into excruciating detail about interviewing some international political leader or something equally as boring. But she made up for it in the dish... old bitches can DISH!!!! She was even a bit snarky here and there, but whatever... she's like 5,000 years old , so what do you want? I finally cracked the spine on "Dreams from My Father" by Barack Obama after all these months... that will be the reading material for the subway ride and the hair salon tomorrow. **sigh** Oh how I love to read.

I also spent some time making jewelry last week. I had this grand idea to make something to wear with the dress I'd picked out to wear to the theater. HOWEVER... the weather refused to cooperate, so the look in my head got lost in translation. But here's the product anyway...


Oh yeah, don't worry Mini, I haven't forgotten about you. While you were off on your extended weekend, I kinda forgot to go to the post office to mail your bracelet. But never fear... it is on the way :)

One More from the Great Adventure

I forgot to put this picture in the last post. Of course we had to do the obligatory caricature that they have at every amusement park in the world, lol. The more I look at it, the more I realize that this picture looks JUST like him... not too much like me.

SUNSHINE!!

Three days in a row of uninterrupted sunshine and above 70 degree temperatures... almost don't know how to handle that! And to top it all off, I had the weekend AND today off; free to do absolutely whatever I wanted. So what did I do? I went to Great Adventure and Wild Safari. See?









And here, my friends, is where I temporarily lost my mind. You know those Skycoaster things that are kinda like a cross between skydiving and bungee jumping? Well, every time I go to the amusement park, I say I'm gonna do it, and I always chicken out. But yesterday I figured that if I can jump out of a plane from 16,000 feet over the Las Vegas desert, then I can surely do this. So we jumped. JESUS. Keep me near the cross!
BEFORE

AFTER

And Her Husband

Eat, chat, drink, chat, chew, chat, yawn, chat. Well actually change every "chat" to "stare blankly" and you'll get an accurate description of my behavior at the lunch.

Maybe tonight will be better. I can't believe I just spent all afternoon making a bracelet and some earrings to match this stupid dress I'm wearing. Now I only have an hour (or less) to do something with this hair and... Ummm... Is that rain? Ummm... And why is it ten degrees colder than it was when I went into the damn bead store? Sonofa...

Fantastic. Now I have to find something else to wear. But what? It's raining and I have to catch the train in less than an hour! Fine... This suit, these shoes, this purse. **wailing** but my hairrrrr!!! Screw it. Money? Check. ID? Check. Umbrella? Check. Tickets? Check. You sure? Dammit, I said check!

Well now I'm thoroughly soaked, despite my umbrella. My escort is similiarly waterlogged. And the train is late. This has all the makings of an A+ evening. We make it to Penn Station by 7:25, catch a cab to the theatre, and make it inside as they are flickering the lights. "Hey." "Oh you guys made it!". "This is... This is..." "Nice to meet you.". "Pleasure.". Tiny theater, very intimate. Lots and lots of much older white couples. **sigh** Wish we could make it out to support something other than the latest Tyler Perry softshoe. "Wow! These seats are amazing! Are we IN the play?". (Polite laughter). The lights dim, the crowd silences, and there, a mere 10 feet away on the stage is...

Laurence Fishburne. A+.

How I Met Your Mother

Damn my arm is klling me! I guess two hours spent painstakingly flat ironing my hair will have that effect. Remind me why I said yes to this little agreement again? I didn't want to then, and I most assuredly don't want to now. But once again, my mouth (and curiosity) have written a check that my ass can't cash. **sigh** Now what to wear? Dress? No. Too pressed. Raspberry suede pumps? Looks like rain. Jeans or slacks? Short sleeves or long? Jacket, no jacket? Fuck it!! This is it. I'm out.

Yes! It's 12:26 and I found a parking space in the garage! Now I have four minutes to lay in the cut and see if I can spot her before she spots me. Whew- these shoes are 10.0 on the fabulosity meter and -13 on the "I'm walking a city block" scale. Wait... There she is! That is definitely her. I'd recognize that red hair anywhere. Casual chic. Black and white print jacet, black pencil trousers that stop at the ankle, black mules, red purse. Not too shabby. Well I guess I'll keep the pace behind her; maybe she'll see me in her periphery. Wait- she's going to the restroom... Guess I'll grab a table. I really should assess the damage that the Hudson River windstorm did to my hair. Whatever... It is what it is. Shit! She sees me! She's coming over!

**wave**

And that, boys and girls, is how I met Maureen.

WALK WALK WALK!!!!

So guys.... I figured that it was time to stop with all the frivolous posts about books and pharmacy bullshit and hit yall up with some real deep, depressing stuff.

**pregnant pause**

Kidding. I am not really in that deep, dark kind of mood. But I do want to talk about something that is serious to me. On October 4-5, my friend Kelly and I will be participating in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer here in New York City. For two days and almost 40 miles, we will be walking to honor the women in our lives who have struggled against cancer.

As team Living Legacy


we will be representing our friends and families in support of a very worthy cause. So..... of course at the end of the line (like it always is with me!), this is about money. I am asking for your contribution to help our team to not only meet the fundraising requirement, but hopefully blow it out of the water!! Check out my fundraising page here. Feel free to leave a word of encouragement, or if you think that this cause is just as worthy as we do, then PLEASE make a donation. This weekend I will go and get my fresh brand new sneakers and START TRAINING (insert groan of pain and misery here). Say a prayer...

And a very PUBLIC (as public as it can be on a blog that is only read by about a handful of regulars!) thank you to the lovely ladies of Hampton University who have already risen to the challenge. SMOOCHES to Ash, Jameil, and Stacey!!!!

More Stolen Merchandise

1. Where is your cell phone? charging

2. Boyfriend/girlfriend? yes

3. Your hair? mess

4. Your mother? miss

6. Your favorite thing? dreaming

7. Your dream last night? forgot

8. Your favorite drink? margaritas

9. Your dream car? Range

10. The room you're in? messy

11. Your ex? Iraq

12. Your fear? failure

13. Your favorite number? 13

14. Where were you last night? home

15. What you're not doing right now? sleeping

16. Muffins? blueberry

17. One of your wish list items? success

18. Grew up at? Virginia

19. The last thing you did? IM'd

20. What are you wearing? sweats

21. Your TV? DVR

22. Your pet or pets? Stone

23. Your computer/laptop? on

24. Your life? unfulfilling

25.Your mood? blah

26. Missing someone? yes

27. Neighbors? Soror

28. Your best friend? Delta

29. Your work? HATE

30. Like someone? Yes

31. Your favorite color? Yellow

32. When is the last time you laughed? 11:00

Just Bead Yourself

Hmm... does anyone in my address book have a birthday coming up?




Probably not... but I had the day off today, so I had to keep busy. I kinda like this hobby... it's pretty :) I really should be catching up on my reading because I have been SERIOUSLY slacking lately. But I neeeeeeeeed a nap. Maybe later.

BFF's

All of my looooooove... my peace and happiness....

YAY!! My very best friend in the whole wide world crossed the burning sands into Delta land over the weekend. I stayed up all night putting the finishing touches on her gift basket (I REALLY should start a side hustle making arts and crafts).



OO-OOOOOOP!!!!!!!!!!

I went to Bead Yourself and made this bracelet in honor of my own tenth anniversary in Delta. There are nine pearls and there were nine of us. There are 13 pieces of red coral to represent my number. The reason why they are arranged asymmetrically (and YES, the woman at the store did not hesitate to point out to me that the bracelet had no symmetry) is this: there are five pearls to represent Malaika, Juanita, Kasharne, Shantia, and Holly. Then there are three pieces of red coral to represent #6-8 who dropped (losers). Three more pearls for Lottie, Charteque, and Tyffani, then one more red coral for #12 (biggest loser of all), and then one pearl standing alone for.... ME!!!!!! I really can't believe that it has been ten years already. **sigh** Happy birthday to me :)

Sunday Times

"Allow me to reintroduce myself: my name is O..."
-The Joy (in reference to President Obama entering a room to Jay Z instead of "Hail to the Chief")

I heart the image of that SO much **embrace embrace**

So anyway... I finished that second book by Maria de los Santos this morning. It was gooooood (not "gooooood" in a "FANTASMIC" sort of way, but "gooooood" in a "I'm searching for another synonym" kind of way). I guess as far as fiction goes, it will do- maybe beach reading or as a travel occupier. It's a layerd story about several women and their husbands, a woman with cancer, a supersmart boy with an unknown father... Good writing, good stories, just good. For the next one, I'm headed back to my old standby Jodi Picoult with "Second Glance."

Hmmm... I was driving to work this morning and saw a van with the logo of a company on its sad. The picture was of a dog squatting in a yard, and the caption underneath sayid "We take care of your business.". The name of this company? Dog Doody. Get it? Doody, duty... I chuckled. Then further down the same street I saw these really big ass birds on the side of the road, so I was like "what the fuck are those? Wild turkeys?". No sir... As I got closer I realized that they were standing in a nearly empty deer carcass... Vultures. Now THAT did not, in fact, make me chuckle. THAT made me want to vomit. **sigh** Nature.

I so desperately would like to go home.

Helloooooo, Mr. President

OMG.... I am ridiculously enraptured with EVERYTHING that features this man., but this (by far) is my absolute favorite thing to date.

IT'S THE 'RACK!!!!!

Post Script

It is never appropriate to be behind the pharmacy counter bawling one's eyes out, yet that is what I am doing. Know how I said I was going to read "The Last Lecture" this week? Well I did... Today. Everybody should read this book; you, you, YOU... Yeah, even you. Please buy this book. You'll want to prop your eyes up with flaming sticks just so you don't have to wait until tomorrow for the end. You'll want to read it once a week for the rest of your life. You'll want to read it with your husband, your wife, your parents, your children... READ IT! The meaning of life cannot be found in these pages, so don't even bother to try looking for it. But what is between these two covers is a conversation that everyone should have with themselves. A pep talk, an ass whipping, self therapy, communion with a higher power... It's all in these few pages. Randy Pausch is teaching me how to live even as he dies. In his story, I see clearly the things that my own mother was trying to do in her final months. Live not as if you're not dying, but BECAUSE you're dying. This, by FAR, is my favorite book of the week yet.

Library Time

Slipped this week on my reading... That book about the gangbanger was some ISH. I don't know what was expecting, but all I got was murder, drugs, money, more murder, guns, and WAY too much unintelligible gang dialect. **sigh** Again, maybe I set unrealistic expectations, and just because Essence magazine said it was a "must read" didn't make it so. But honestly, is it too much to ask for an honest, straightforward account of your life and how you turned yourself around without resorting to the stereotypical "Black literature" speak? **sigh again** I feel like I shouldve just watched Boyz n the Hood again.

Next up is "The Last Lecture" by Randy Pausch. Since that's a short one, I'll commit to "Belong to Me" by Maria de los Santos also... I'm working all weekend!

Regret

**sigh**

Why didn't you call me? Well, maybe you didn't want to hear my voice; I kinda understand that. Okay, so why didn't you email me? I guess you just didn't want to. Or maybe it didn't even occur to you. While you were subletting your place and putting your things into storage and setting up your bills for automatic monthly payment, did you think of me? When you were running through your final checklists and triple checking your equipment, did my face pop into your mind? When you took your last backward glance at the airport terminal and tried to ignore the tears in your parents' eyes, did the ghost of me slip across your field of vision?

**sigh**

Probably not. But when I found out, I was sad; my heart cracked just a little amidst the criss-crossed scars from years ago. I'm worried about you way over there. Are you too hot? Are you eating well? Have you been able to communicate with home? Are you safe? Are you afraid? When you look into the eyes of one of your patients, do you see yourself? Will you be able to send in your absentee ballot? Will you miss your nephew's first birthday? Did you take your guitar? Do you get your morning coffee? Do you finally feel like a "real doctor" now? Are you okay?

**sigh**

I wish you'd told me. I'll pray for you every night and sometimes during the day. Be safe, okay?

Wednesday Book Update

I finished "Picture Perfect" by Jodi Picoult before I left for the trip. The verdict? Wife beaters should always be drawn and quartered, no questions asked. That is all.

No, but really... it was a good book. Starts with a woman who has amnesia, so she doesn't understand why she is walking aimlessly around Los Angeles. The book is about her discovery of her present and her identity... good read. When I finished that, I started "Plain Truth" by the same author. It's about an Amish girl who had a baby out of wedlock, and the baby was murdered. Did she kill her son? Did someone else? I guess we'll see.

Next book is "War of the Bloods in My Veins: A Street Soldier's March Toward Redemption" by Dashaun Jiwe Morris.

Fascination on the High Seas

Whew.... I am sooooooo tired. But not so tired that I couldn't pop in to see you guys before I fall into a coma for the night. I just got back from a cruise over the weekend and I wanted to put up a few picks (in lieu of a quality post!). My best friend's father was turning 60 on Saturday, so they planned a big surprise party for him with all of his friends and family from out of town on a cruise to the Bahamas.

Friday morning we got into sunny Miami (heyyyy Stace... I thought of you!) and headed to the Port of Miami to board the ship.


I was worried becase the weather report called for intermittent thunderstorms all weekend, and it was a bit overcast in the beginning, but no worries... by the time the ship sailed, the sky was beautiful, so I was able to get a bit of sun. We took this picture at dinner the first night.

I don't know why this is, but you never REALLY realize how tired, pale, and just plain worn out you look until you see yourself on film. **sigh** Damn you, Sony Cybershot!!

The next morning we went snorkeling; the water was RIDICULOUSLY choppy, so we called it quits pretty early on.

On the catamaran ride back, the guide pointed out some houses on Paradise Island that belong to Whitney Houton, Barry Bonds, Nicholas Cage, and Michael Jackson. Now THIS is how I want to live!!



We found some beach on the back side of the island and there was no one there to take our picture, so... we took it ourselves. Yeah, I know... we look crazy.

And here's one of me at the same beach.

There are some caves in Nassau (too afraid of the bats to actually go inside), but these are some shots from the safe side :)




At the end of the day, we went over to Atlantis and played a little Blackjack (boooo on losing money at the Blackjack table!)


The last day, all I wanted to do was sit by the pool with my latest book and work on my color acquisition (that's TANNING for those of you who are naturally more fortunate!). But instead of indigo skies and brilliant sunshines, all I got was this

Which brings me to this...

THE RETURN.

New Book

Well if I'm not consistent about anything else, I'm consistent with this. Finished "The Emperor of Ocean Park" this week... that was tough read. The author is VERY VERY detailed with his descriptions of Martha's Vineyard (and everything else); it really couldve cut down like 250 pages with that alone. But a good story, nevertheless. It's always good to read about Black people in plots that don't involve indiscriminant sex, drygs, and random violence. Give it a try if you don't mind a slow read.

I'm wrapping up another Jodi Picoult now, "Picture Perfect."