Tuesday, May 16, 2006

Mother's and the Rod

Even though I'm kind of an 'anti-holiday' person, I really do like Mother's Day. It always seems like everybody who can will find their way home for Mother’s Day. If they can’t come, then they’re gonna call and if they can’t call, they better be in jail or else everybody is going to be mad at them for hurting their mama’s feelings and being a complete no-show on Mother’s Day.

Sadly, there were a lot of mother’s who shed tears this past Mother’s Day. Grieving over the loss of their own mother, or worrying about the health and safety of one of their own children. Whether fighting in that war overseas, or fighting in the streets in the hood or fighting with our spouses or children in our own homes, we’ve all played our parts in putting gray hairs in mama’s head.

I was blessed to have 3 mothers that literally raised me.


My Big Mama was the first one to see the potential in me. Even back when I was always getting in trouble and catching whuppings, Big Mama always had a special word for me.

"D is going to surprise a lot of people. He's a lot smarter than you think he is."

Ironically, this was usually my downfall. I’d scope out a situation and figure I was slick enough to pull a stunt and I was crazy enough to do it and even get away with it a time or two. But invariable I’d get sloppy, and go to that well one too many times and boom!! Here comes the hammer, busted!!!

Big Mama never had to ‘get’ me, but I saw her lay in to one of my cousins one day and I knew I didn’t want none of that. If Big Mama gave you a whupping, you were all the way out of bounds!! I’m talking about, acting bad fo real.

Big Mama doesn’t allow anyone to call kids bad in front of her.


“Don’t tell him he’s bad, because if you keep telling him he’s bad, he’s going to start believing it himself.”

Big Mama could spot the good in anybody. She was also up on her game on spotting jankiness. Because anybody who births and raises 12 children, 6 boys and 6 girls into this world, has seen her fair share of stunts being pulled.

But Big Mama saw something in me early and she always made sure to have a bookshelf full of books to read. I might be punished where I couldn’t go outside and I couldn’t watch TV, but I could always read a book. Big Mama wasn’t the most educated woman in the world, but she was always a big reader.

Big Mama is in her early 90’s now and her memory isn’t as good as it used to be. She can still hold an excellent conversation with you, laughing, joking, talking about the Bible, but you can’t be too surprised if she asks you what your name is a couple of times. Because she will forget.

It can be a hard thing sometimes, having a loved one who played a vital role in bringing you into this world and molding you into the person you are today, but yet they look at you with a blank stare, having no clue who you are.

Once I realized that she wasn’t in any pain and that her appetite was just as good as mine. And that she could go to the bathroom by herself and still read her Bible without any glasses, I really was reminded of just how good God really is.

We need more Big Mama’s in this world, cuz they’re a critical part of the family that supplies an outpouring of love. Big Mama has been on her knees praying for me. Just as she has with all of her children and grandchildren, especially the ones she knew where in harms way.

The effectual fervent prayers of the righteous availeth much. (James 5:16)

Thank God for Big Mama’s.

I’m a native Houstonian, but every summer my sister and I would spend 3 months in Arkansas. Both sets of our grandparents lived only 12 miles away from each other. Big Mama and Big Daddy lived in the city, El Dorado..or Ella Rayda as most natives pronounce. But our paternal grandparents lived in a town population 538. With a railroad track running through the middle of town all the way down through the saw mill that was situated right on the Ouachita River.




It is in this town that we spent most of our time. My papa had acres of land that he farmed, along with a chicken coop and hog pen. There was also a lake in town, where we could go swimming or fishing, it was definitely an ideal place for a kid to run around all summer.


While there, we were under the rule of grandma. Most of the grandkids call her Honey and most everybody else calls her Aunt Gladys. She’s a character.

We all have things that go on inside of our head that we think about, then we kinda have a filter process that lets some stuff out and we say it, a colander if you will. Well the holes in Honey’s strainer are a bit larger than the average persons. She’s liable to say ANYTHING to anybody. She’s what you call OFF THA CHAIN. No holds barred.

Now the part that throws most people off, is when they realize that she knows her Bible and that she loves the Lord. Most people equate loving Jesus to be sedated and serene. But there are some wild cards in the mix that spicen up the pot and Honey is definitely a wildcard. You can always count on her to tell you how it really is, even if you don’t want to hear it. She doesn’t bite her tongue, she’s going to let you know how she feels.

One of my friends from college came to visit one time and she started asking him questions..

"Do you have a girlfriend at school? Do you have a girlfriend at home?"

To be polite and not just point blank say, "I'm a hoe." My friend just kept saying no, he didn't have an 'exclusive' girlfriend. My grandma looked at him for a minute, and studied his hands and the way he carried himself and then she asked him, "You ain't gay are you?? Because my grandson isn't gay, he likes girls." Of course, the whole exchange kinda threw him off and everybody in earshot of her just bust out laughing.

It is this realness that I’ve always equated to love. Because a person who is honest to the point of being politically incorrect, and still ready to stand up and tell everybody that Jesus is Lord, is what you call an old school soldier. A ride or die chick. I got one of those pistol packing grandmas and I love her to death. Tyler Perry’s Mudyeah ain’t got nuthin on Honey.

And then comes my biological mother. I’m talking about a bad chick (now that’s a bad chick!) My mom kinda throws people off sometimes too. When I was in high school and one of my podnaz came over to the house, we were all sitting up talking and then all of a sudden his pager went off. This was back before EVERYBODY had a pager, so my mother, being an HISD school teacher and exposed to how the kids of the day were getting down looked at my friend in the eyes and asked him point blank, “Do you sell drugs??”

It threw him off so much that he started stuttering.

“N-n-n-o no ma’am!!”

My mother is not your regular soldier in the army of the Lord, she’s a 5-star general. Even though she’s the 8th child out of 12, all the other kids call her ‘The General’, because when it’s time to get it done, she knows how to get n’gaz moving.

When she puts one hand on her hip and has one finger pointing in somebody’s face while she’s talking, then you know it’s on. I’ve seen her make grown people cry after having to listen to one of her lectures. She can fuss at you so real, that it will make you determined to NEVER have to listen to that anymore.

And whenever it seemed like talking wasn’t going to get the job done, then she’d go get the belt or switch and put something on that behind. My mama burned a lot of calories in her life by giving me whuppings. And despite all those times that I sat in my room, licking my wounds and wondering why God had me trapped living with the wicked witch of the South, I am proud to stand up today and let the world know, “I thank God for having a mama that whupped my butt.”

He who spares his rod hates his son, but he who loves him chastens him early. – Proverbs 13:24 MKJV

Because just as we show love to our children with hugs and gifts, special treats. We also show love to our children when we chastise them for doing something that’s wrong. These 3 women formed a triangle defense around me and I didn’t have any avenues of escape. God’s Word was law in every house that I lived in.

So these are my 3 mothers. They’re all jamming. They’re all strong soldiers in the army of the Lord. They’re all real good cooks. And they all have played a vital role in molding and shaping me into the person I am today. Of course, I’m not perfect, and I still have my rough spots that need to be smoothed over, but the key is that they all trained me in the way that I should go. And now that I have grown older, I have not departed from it.

Happy Mother’s Day Big Mama, Honey and Mama. Some people don’t even have 1 real mama. God knew that I needed some extra kinda attention, so He gave me 3. God is good, all the time.