Swimming

I was 4 years old, still living  in New Jersey and it was finally summer! I tagged along as my cousins and siblings went to the public pool, chaperoned by my Uncle Maine. Most of the day is fuzzy in my memory as I try to recall it, but one event stands out as clear as a bell. Standing beside the pool I watched as my uncle jumped in to be closer to the other children who enthusiastically barreled towards the water to get out of the heat. I was shy and quiet as a child and it was my nature to hang back and take everything in before deciding on whether or not to join. So there I was, watching, as everyone else was splashing and playing. My uncle's attention finally settled on me and he asked why I wasn't in the pool. I didn't have the words to tell him that I didn't know how to swim, so I continued to simply stare at him not answering the question. He motioned for me to come closer, and I did. "Jump in Kourtnie!," he said, and I did. Being a child in my family meant we were always taught to obey adults without question. Did he know that I couldn't swim? I don't know. As I sat on the bottom of the pool I looked up noticing that there were several feet separating me and the surface. I waited patiently for strong arms to lift me back into the air because how else would I get all the way up there? When time ticked by and no rescue came, fear slowly started to creep in. And then I tried to take a breath. When I found that I couldn't breathe, I started flailing and struggling. After what seemed like an eternity, someone pulled me from the pool and sat me on the ground as I vomited water, choking and crying for my mom. This was my first experience with water. 

Because of that unfortunate incident at 4 years old, it took me years to get over my paralyzing fear of water. It didn't help that the majority of my family could not swim. My Granny also has a deep-seated fear of water that she no doubt passed along to her children. When it came to the ability to swim, fear ruled us.

I didn't learn to swim until I was 21. My boyfriend at the time spent most of the summer helping me learn different strokes in my apartment complex's pool. It was a very slow, mentally draining process to learn to swim. To this day I have a very healthy fear and respect for any body of water larger than a bathtub. And while I can now swim and splash and play with the best of them, a pool floatie or life jacket is never far from my reach. Just in case.

"Still I Rise"

A classic, a favorite.

Still I Rise by Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Easter Memories

One of my most vivid Easter memories was terrible and it took me YEARS to get over. I was about 6 years old and my siblings and a few cousins and I all lived with my Granny in New Jersey. We grew up poor and when Easter came around that year Granny didn't have enough money to buy Easter baskets for everyone. I remember her pulling me and my older brother aside to talk to us. When we asked where our Easter baskets were she told us that on the way to our house, the Easter Bunny had gotten into a car accident and had to go to the hospital. She then proceeded to show us a picture in the paper of an actual car wreck, and told us that was the Easter Bunny. Well of course I freaked out! She told us not to tell the younger kids so they wouldn't be scared. So I kept it to myself. This haunted me for years until I realized that the Easter Bunny wasn't real. And while I know she was just doing the best she could, this my personal lesson #865 on how not to raise children!

Mortifying Moments

Ever have such an embarrassing moment that you can't help but to remember it for years?! Well there is one such moment that is inexplicably running through my head, and has been since yesterday morning. Every single time I think of it I want to die of embarrassment and a little from laughter. I should get over this because while there were dozens of people who witnessed it, only one person among them was one I knew and I don't even talk to him anymore. So why can't I get this out of my head?!?! It's driving me nuts.

My Sweet Little Blueberry

Baby Blueberry has been on my mind so much this week. I would have been 5 months pregnant on Christmas Day. I know that I shouldn't do this, keep this mental count in my head, but it is impossible not to. My EDD, my LMP and how far along I would be now is etched in stone on my heart. There is no denying that. And even after all I've been through, all I've lost, all the pain and tears and hurt, I will never, ever regret the life of my sweet little baby. This picture was taken very soon after I found out I was pregnant. I will never forget the excitement, fear, love, hope, anxiety and joy I felt at finding out that I had a small life inside of me. There was a time that I couldn't even come close to looking at these photos (I took lots!). But lately it has been a comfort to remember. Which is the reason I share.

You can't tell but there's a little baby in there the size of a blueberry:)

Lost and Found Some More

More pictures found from St John. I have a sneaking suspicion I will find my way back one day, just not to reside:)

Uncle Maine

This post is dedicated to my Uncle Maine!! I still think about him, and although I don't have pictures to remember him by, music certainly brings back awesome memories of him and my childhood. This is one of the many songs that takes me back:) We still miss and love you Uncle Maine!! We know you're charming the ladies and doing the Big J Flex in Heaven!!