Changes – Tia
I have no idea where to begin. It’s been so long since I’ve written anything. I think I was joking with Toya the other day and told her that we should change the name to Black Girl Like Me.
I guess I’ll just jump right in and hope for the best. And by best I mean coherency.
There is a never ending supply of drama when it comes to my mother. But it seemed to come to halt recently. After what could only be construed as a World War 3 disagreement, I got some peace when my mother and I “took a break.” All seemed quiet on the western front, and then I got steam rolled from the other side.
My dad had a stroke.
It really did come out of no where. My dad isn’t all that old. He’s in pretty good shape for someone his age. If you saw him on the street you would swear he was only in his late forties instead of his mid-fifties. He exercises. He eats fairly well. And frankly, our relationship has improved so much in the past 2 years or so that he’s become my superman. We all know that our parents are going to die. It’s inevitable. But I honestly, never really thought about it. I just have this picture in my head of my dad at about 80. Sitting on the porch of his house in Inman Park. Watching baseball. Yelling at the screen. And whining about the good old days when umpires knew how to call a game. I never thought about my dad being incapacitated. I just kinda thought he would live to be really old and then die one day.
So I was damn near hysterical when I got the call that he’d had a stroke. And by the time I got down to Atlanta I didn’t know what to expect. Thankfully it was a mild stroke and he was doing pretty well when I finally got to the hospital. But it broke my heart to see my dad laid up like that. And when he had to get up to use a walker to go to the bathroom I had to leave the room but I was a wreck.
The doctors assure us that he will make a full recovery. But how do you convince the little girl inside of me that the man who is her hero, her superman, her daddy, is going to be okay, when he’s lying in a hospital bed depending on other people? It is not an easy sell.
So if you think about it, please pray for my dad.
Toya moved out. On my birthday no less. She’s moving because I’m moving. (More on that and my birthday shortly.) We went and stuffed ourselves silly the morning of my 29th year. And then I had to leave to go see my dad. As I was packing my bag it dawned on me that she wouldn’t be there when I got back. And I began to have a moment.
I didn’t think it was going to be “all that” when she left. I figured we would still talk everyday and that it would just be like I was on the road a lot. Much like it was before. When I traveled we talked everyday but I didn’t get to see her. But I realized it was nothing like that. She wasn’t going to be there when I got home...ever. There wasn’t going to be anyone around to laugh at the most mundane idiotic things. Like right now I could say “Don’t ever play with matches” and we would be on the floor. I realized that my current roommate won’t get the endless Friday references, or the importance of Air Supply, or who exactly the Great Googa Mooga is.
So as I walked out the door with my stuff and realized that things were going to be forever changed, I began to cry. I didn’t want Toya to see because then we’d have the Friends moment when Rachel finally realizes that she’s not going to live with Monica anymore. It was messy. But once I was in the safety of the car I just let it rip. I cried for all of the good times. I cried for all of the memories. I cried for the laughter that I wouldn’t here again for God only knows how long. I cried because I missed my friend.
The house is weird now. I don’t really like being at home. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I don’t love my current roommate. But something feels weird, like something is missing. And because I know that it’s never going to be the same I have to make a change…
(insert stellar segue here)
Let’s pack up
After a couple of years of being the girl who cried move, I am finally moving. Some time in September or early October I’m moving to LA. Everything just seemed to fall into place. I’m rolling onto a new study at work and all of my new site assignments are in the LA area. Except for one in Montana. Are there any black people in Montana? I will get to work from home which means I will never have to get out of my pajamas until I have to go on site. A friend of mine hooked me up with a friend of hers who is looking for a roommate. She seems very cool, works for BET, like British men and likes to clean. If I didn’t know better I would swear I was moving in with myself. AND the new girl is going to hook me up with the chick that was over the “Sister Big Bones” portion of the Rip the Runway show that was on BET last fall. So watch out for me. You never know where you might see me.
But as excited as I am, I’m still overwhelmed at the prospect of leaving everything that I’ve known for the past 6 years, packing up all of my stuff and moving 2000 miles away. And it’s looking like I’m going to have to do it alone. With my dad having a stroke and none of my friends having the money nor the ability to get off work like I can, it’s looking like I will be making the 3 day drive alone. And as much as I want to see the country I don’t want to do it by myself. (Please do not get me started on doing stuff alone. I don’t care what people say I am SICK TO DEATH of being single. I have done EVERYTHING on my own. My dad is in the hospital and I’m there alone with no one to consol me. I move across the country and I do it alone. I was in freakin’ Puerto Rico last week ALONE. I think that I have paid my dues as a single person and that it is now time for me to be a non-single person. Shuck and jive if you want…I WANT TO GET MARRIED. I want to share the big moments and the small ones with someone. And I’m not ashamed to say it….That is all.)
So I will do my best to keep everyone posted on the progress. Maybe even add some pics of the packing, the move, and the journey.
I turned 29 on the 22nd. And I gotta tell you, it was a pretty blah birthday. I don’t know how I got this old. I definitely don’t feel like I’m almost 30 and I don’t think I look it. So I think the combination of not looking my age, not feeling my age and not being where I thought I was be at my age has thrown me all the way off.
If you had asked 21 year old Tia where 29 year old Tia would be she would have told you: married, with one kid (or at least working on one) practicing medicine and working on her pediatric residency. And that was the plan from the time I was about 10 until I was 23 when I realized that I wasn’t going to med school.
My life has not gone according to plan at all. I dated the wrong person and almost let it ruin my life. I worked for people that didn’t care about me nor did I care about the work I was doing. I own NOTHING. (TN Telco Credit Union owns my Altima for the next 2 ½ years) Basically I’m no where near where I thought I would be. And well, I’m kind of anxious to see how everything is going to pan out. I know we’re not supposed to be anxious...but well I am. I want to know when stuff is going to start popping off. Are my 30s really going to be the new 20s? Lord I hope so because my 20s didn’t really impress me. Although, the 20s can be redeemed if 29 kicks ass. I’m just saying…
Everything is so different. I guess I knew everything couldn’t stay the same but part of me wishes that it could. I miss the familiarity. But I know that God pulled all of the great ones out of their comfort zones before he shook things up in their lives. Esther, Moses (I don’t know if I could have left a palace and royalty and all that), Joseph and I’m sure some other people that I can’t think of right now, all got moved, removed and some times taken from everything they knew only to end up in situations of revelations, greatness and blessings. So no matter how much I miss the past (and TRUST I miss it like crazy right now) I’m looking forward to the future.
Talk to you soon,