I wrote a poem for my mother's service, which I called "A Mother's Love." On the tenth anniversary of her death, I wrote a Eulogy for a class project, and I have included both pieces as a tribute to my mother's life.
The day started out like any other day. My daughter, Deondra Mae, was in the hospital again with pneumonia.
When I look back over my life, it has been filled with many roadblocks, bad choices, deaths, and adversities--yet, somehow, someway, I have always found the strength to carry on.
It's not what others tell you about yourself; it's what you tell yourself that is important. You mold who you think and believe you are.
I share this journey with you all because I feel safety in our sisterhood. I have a safe place to live. My outreach is thriving. I owe all this to a new perspective on me.
It felt like a warm blanket, comforting me in moments of loneliness, sadness, depression, and anxiety. When the weight of my emotions became unbearable, alcohol was there to dull the edges.
I began to understand that HIV can be a blessing, and I began to understand the most challenging thing in life. If you want to, you can get the best out of life.
I can honestly say I'm the most respected and hated person in a mile radius. Outreach is my passion since experiencing very traumatic events throughout my diagnosis of being HIV positive.
I thank God because now there are so many places where they support us—people with HIV. The workshops they offer and the tools they provide, give us a chance to lead a normal life.
The tracks leave uncertainty cruelty and shame. The devil lied, it's part of his game. Fear the Lord and find your space. I'm not falling apart I'm falling into place.