My Wife - DJ Diva

I've been a cad....

Its been too long since I wrote anything of substance in appreciation of my wife DJ Diva--how foolish. Surely by now she must think I have lost something for her. Maybe somehow her words no longer move me. Or maybe her allure has faded in some way. Perhaps she thinks her kisses aren't as sweet, her touch no longer raises my..um....arm hair, yeah, arm hair....or maybe I'm just getting used to her. The answer is no to all of the above.

My wife is my everything. Everything.

She's the woman I look forward to at all times. She's the woman whose honor I want to protect. She's the woman I look for in my sleep. She's the woman I lean on in times of despair and the woman I want to impress above all others. There are days I stare at her sleeping gently (Shut up, I know what you're thinkin') and I am amazed how far we have come together in such a short period of time. Through it all, we stared at each other, said "I love you" and moved forward. Real love. I have the kind of love you can't buy, reproduce or fake. You can't produce it with sex alone. You can't entice it with a hot car (unless its a red corvette...damn u Prince!).

My wife looks at me and knows me sometimes better than I know myself. They say women are like that, but none of the women I've been with have been this in tune with what makes me tick. My wife knows me, and she still hasn't fled....glutton for punishment I think....lol. I don't deserve her and that's why I work so hard to keep her. You know, I look at her in royal terms and some have said that I am just plain whipped...perhaps. YAYYYYY TO BEING WHIPPED! Cause I get "it" when I ask and whenever she wants "it". I never feel cheated emotionally in this union. I never feel like there isn't anything my wife wouldn't do for me. My only hope is that she knows that there isn't anything I wouldn't give her. I hope she knows that whats mine is hers and she can't bet the house on that. I hope she knows that she is the sexiest fucking woman I have ever been with. I hope she knows that I dream daily about Juicy and the Girls...some of my dreams are wet, others are during the day.

She's one of the few women I've met who would be justified in being a total, complete, snob. Sort of like, um, me....lol. But she's way more down to Earth than I'll ever be. I'm so high-brow the stick in my ass has started to install insulation. But Diva is the life of our home. She is the party, she is the dance, she is the songs. She is the queen and the leader. She is the hell-raiser and the peacemaker. She works hard and expects the same from you. She earns respect simply by being who she is, which cannot be said for so many people I come across. My wife is dynamic. She's a hell of a writer and lord knows I wish she would just write 100 pages of something hot to shut alot mutherfuckers up and put them to shame. She's an innovator and she does it all with positivity and drive. Its a hell of a thing to watch and experience.

Because of my wife I am...

Living in Stone Mountain, GA
Working at a HBCU in a position I love
A father
A Husband
One happy Black man.

I cherish my wife. Sometimes when some of her old flames call (I hate these calls...lame...as my daughter would say) with all that "How you doin'" ish, I get tight. First of all, Negro, you had your time to say all you needed to, now she gone, and here you are calling years later cause in the immortal words of Biggie, "You want that old thing back". Nah Negro. See...this is what happens when Negros think their pimps and then they realize they're not...they just got lucky. I've never had any such delusions. I never wanted to have Diva...I wanted to KEEP her from Day 1. She continues to be the illumination in my life. An angel sent to me to set and keep me straight. I am so grateful and so lucky to be married. With the way people talk about their wives and husbands I wonder if I'll ever be so disenchanted. I can't imagine that ever happening. I love my wife more than anything. I need my wife more than anything.

So no, the allure has not faded. No, I am not falling out of love, or have forgotten what she means to me. I am basking in her prescence in my life. Sometimes its enough to just hold her in her sleep. Sometimes its enough to just know she's there.

But um tonight....I got an appointment with Juicy! You hear me Diva?!? I may even bring a napkin.

I love you Diva, you can put that on everything. -Daddy

Mortality

Less than two weeks ago, my wife was given the news that her father died in the Dominican Republic. She is still grieving. Albeit not as solemnly as in the beginning, but I know it’s a pain that will never dim, and will forever be a moment of sadness and perhaps even tears.

Today, I was given the news that my mother was admitted to Jacobi Hospital. She fell out of bed and fractured her vertebrae. She’s moving her extremities and after speaking to her doctors I am confident she will recover.

My mother ‘s name is Juanita Turner, she was born January 3, 1947 to Christine and Arthur Early in Miami, Florida. She is the mother of two sons, a widow, the oldest of nine siblings, a former New York State worker, an alcoholic, and HIV Positive.

My father died when I was year old. He was struck by a D-train on 167th Street in the Bronx in February of 1974. Since that time, my mother has not known a day with struggle. Since that time, my mother has not known a day of rest. Every man she linked herself to since the death of my father has systematically done his part to destroy her. Men have beaten my mother’s eyes shut and have tried to hold her captive in Soundview projects. Men have stolen 1st of the Month Christmas for her Kids money from my mother. Men have raped my mother both emotionally and physically. Men have paid my mother, and fed her children for sex. When I was nine, I watched my mother for 8 hours straight go back and forth into a room with random men and at the end take me for ice-cream and French fries.

Over the years people have tried to convince me that somehow my mother deserves this fate. No one deserves such a fate. In fact the only source of bitterness in my heart is that my mother has had to suffer for so long. No one loved to see people happy more than my mother. Juanita Turner wanted more for you than perhaps you even wanted for yourself. Juanita Turner will give you her last on a bad day. She has a wit that is sharp and cutting. She is politically saavy and has had an opinion on just about every issue. You know when they say, such and such “knows the issues” JUANITA TURNER KNOWS THE ISSUES! Just recently she told me I was crazy for supporting Obama, because “He has no realistic shot of getting elected”. Hilarious.

My mother is required to take a regimen of toxic pills, and to live a life not much different from a cripple. I wish somebody would say that shit again to my face. She deserves it?!? I wish someone would minimize my mother’s presence and importance in my life. Lord help that person. This woman found time to teach me all the values I have today. Even in the throes of alcoholism, where I watched her go through the “DDT’s” from alcohol withdrawl, she found time to read with me, show me what real love is, and keep my little ass safe. She could have given me away at any time. Surely, it was a hard enough taking care of herself, let alone two bad ass boys. She was single woman dealing with the death of her beloved husband, who was her, everything. Instead, she dared to take care of me. They had to take me away, because there was no way she was giving up on being my mother. Eventually, I ran away though, it’s a source of guilt that haunts me to this day. I remember the day I ran away and was picked up by the cops...I immediately wanted to say...take me home. But I was too scared. Eventually I ended up in a foster home for the better. My recent move though was not guilt filled, just very difficult. I wondered whether I was running away from her again? Leaving my mother to come South was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make in my life. She made it easier by giving her blessing and telling me to go and be happy. I will always love her for that and so much more.

My mother needs to know that I am so proud of her. I am so proud that she gave me life, and that I am able to call her “ma”. I need my mother to know, that, I know how hard she worked for my brother and I. That she should be proud of herself. Her sons have grown up with a healthy respect and appreciation for her. When people called her a drunk, my brother and I whooped their ass. When people asked if I had eaten, even if I hadn’t I’d say, “Yup, Hamburgers!” She used to tell me that when I was little whenever I got scared I picked up a pencil and start drawing. I’m scared right now and that’s why I’m writing all of this. I need my mother to be okay. I really, really do. I’m not sure how I’m going to respond to the inevitable. However, right now, fuck the inveitable. I need her to be okay. I knew something was wrong this morning when I called and there was no answer. She's always home, trying to do something good for somebody. Or just enjoying this time of year. This is her favorite time of year. Mine too. I can’t wait to see her at the end of the month.