Seattle is a great “cure” at least for me. I lived my whole life in a “fog”. It was my survival technique growing up in the Southpark neighborhood of Houston, Texas. It was like growing up with mad dogs. No matter how many times they ripped my throat out and killed me by millimeters spiritually, mentally, and a couple of times physically – I learned to say, “It’s okay, I am fine.” I was attacked often yet I never saw it coming…
In Seattle, my son Joseph was murdered. Seattle took my son and turned the lights on for me. For the first time it wasn’t okay and I was never going to be fine. “The rubber met the road…” In a couple of days on February 1 – my son would have turned 32 years old. I have cried a lot about it.. (…And the Lord is with Joseph…).
When my little brother was killed in Houston, Leonard…I acted like it didn’t happen. I told myself he was stationed in Okinawa with our older brother Tony. My uncle was also killed in Houston, Chester. He never saw 30 years old. He went to Vietnam with my other uncles, Harvey and Bernard. My grandmother had to bury her son. Meanwhile, I have cousins who have lost all of their children to death and the prison system. I still count my blessings because George Floyd wasn’t my son, but he was from Houston too. You know?
I think seeing what was done to George Floyd helped the world. It turned on the lights for so many people just as Seattle did for me. The lights have been on for me now 10 years. Ten years since Seattle put my son in a box. It took the Covid-19 lock-down to make me leave Seattle. Once we were set free from lock-down – Seattle gave me the green-light. I had graduated.
When crossed the state line, I knew I was where I was meant to be. It has been very peaceful since and a brand new life for me. Even so, I dreamed last night I was sitting in my mother’s living room with my oldest son, Jonathan. I am typing this message to you now and you know what? I never asked my Mom what it was like to lose her baby brother. I know it was traumatic because I don’t remember a thing. Sigh, that’s how I learned to survive; self generated dimension of abject delusion. I wanted to survive. I had to go on and facing the truth is a detriment in the old confederate states of the defeated confederacy. I don’t remember what my grandparents went through. I don’t remember the suit my Uncle was buried in. TO this day, I don’t know if he is buried with all the soldiers of Vietnam or if he is buried in the family plots…
My grandfather died in the VA Hospital in Houston and my grandmother drowned in Texas City, Texas. Everyone said it was suicide because there was a horrible storm and they tried to stop her but she refused. She loved the sea and enjoyed fishing. My Dad, Jesse, would go out deep sea fishing in the first hours of the morning on a huge boat out of Texas City or Galveston.
Galveston, Texas Deep Sea Fishing Charter
My Dad would bring home sharks, flounder, swordfish, and even eels.
Anyway, I want to come out to the west coast for a charter off of Baja California this year… Anyway, sorry for the long message… Have a blessed day! It’s Friday! Please remember me in your prayers and I will do the same. I am lighting a candle for you right now.
Get up, Get On, and LIVE – I love you!
Ms Coletha's Blog 