LIFE CHAPTER #1-19-02253

LIFE CHAPTER #1-19-02253

"THE SECRET OF HAPYEE"

CHAPTER 1

I lay there for another hour or so, in her bed remembering her little feet running through my Grandma’s house singing, “You are my suuunshiiiine, my only suuunshiiiine…,” always screeching just a bit when she got to the happy part in the next verse. Her little 8 year old, then tongue tied, tongue turned happy into hapyee, more often than not. “You make me HaaPyEEE when skies are graaayy….” Maybe how she never stopped smiling and never stayed still, played into why her little innocently optimistic self also never cared about the trickiness of that note...or the trickiness of happiness itself.

flEven after another 11 years of her boundless happiness running through my house, the school system, and now the world, Tai never seemed to develop a sense of understanding just how tricky “hapyee” could be. 41 years into life myself, and I was just learning how fleeting happiness could often be. Watching and preserving that innocent optimism in her life to the best of my ability had been my goal since I had first seen the warmth of her incessant sunshine.

It was during one of those random days, when you feel like the whole world just turned on you for only waking up that morning and having the nerve to leave the bed. I was living to get off the clock at my job after already putting in a full morning in community college where things had went far from well, in both places. I found myself humming, “you are my sunshine,” while my thoughts drifted back to my baby girl and her little happy feet.

Not my only child anymore, by that time, but she had been the only child for long enough that the nickname “Baby Girl” loosely stuck around the house. Her little sister Nahjae’ was at that time 3 years old, and a very quiet observer that did not much more than stare at you with her huge button eyes and quietly hum/sing while hugging you or lying next to you. (Later, she will show to be an amazingly talented, and not so quiet at all, clothing artist. Funny how some of us change as we grow and some only improve what they know.) Leroy, her baby brother, then nearly 2 years old and always being held by someone, most normally stayed asleep until I came home and only moved to wake when hearing my voice for his feeding time. (He will also keep this same characteristic in his next decade of life; steadily improving his infinite knowledge of sleep and food.) Levette, the REAL baby girl, was a 9-month-old bundle of life and curiosity that always sucked her thumb and had earned her nickname from the nurses in the neonatal unit; “Fancy.” When she was born, they claimed she had more hair on her head than they had ever before seen on a newborn. She was immediately titled “Fancy Girl.” The name was such a perfect fit that no one dared to try and change it, not even little ol’ mommy me. It was shortened to “Fancy” the day of leaving the hospital. (Fancy will very soon after show herself to be the self-nominated boss of EVERYBODY.) So, Tai stayed Baby Girl throughout the years, sometimes Tai Baby but only from me.

I knew exactly where all my children would be and what they were doing at that exact moment, except for my Tai Baby. She was the happily innocent unknown. The one I could always not be surprised to be surprised from. After arriving back at home from my emotionally draining work lending credit and hand collecting debts, I wondered where my hapyee little wild card would be today.

My curiosity was short lived because Tai comes running, barefoot in pigtails and overall jean shorts with her favorite blue t-shirt on underneath, as soon as I pull in. It had peace signs overlapping in the front center in pink, blue, and purple. (She would eventually wear it until the sleeves wore off, and only the center peace signs remained in-tact for me to later make a quilt out of.) Tai sprang through the kitchen door at the back of the house, closest to the garage, with a bounce and a whirl. If she would have been any happier, her feet would have only needed to touch the wind to travel, as she was almost literally walking on air. In her hands, she held a bright neon orange sheet of stock paper.

It looks like she had been playing in the church secretary’s office today, which is where my grandmother, Tai’s very agile great-grandmother Emile (lovingly called MaMaw), volunteered on Fridays. She must have been coloring while MaMaw printed and folded the church bulletins and programs for the Sunday Service. Tai bounded off the paved driveway and right up to the door of the car just as it fully swung open as if she had magically said, “Abracadabra, I am HEEERE!” and just appeared. We greeted each other with a smile and our usual barrage of kisses. This was still just our time because the smaller ones were not yet able to go speeding through the house like their big sister could. Tai thrust the stiff and brightly colored picture at me, quite effectively smushing me in the face with it. I sat her on the ground to save us both, and looked at her art for today. Surprisingly (not surprising) this was more than a picture, but also a full page letter on the reverse side.

“Dear Mommy, this pichter is for you. Cause I love you so much. you make my heart beat faster and faster when I see you. You’r the bestest mommy I ever had. and the only one. but are the best!!!”

Complete with a smiley face in place of her name. I felt my heart swell with a feeling of pure intensity like none that I have ever felt before that day, or in any after. It was a feeling of ultimate love and appreciation; of adoration and the quintessence of unmarred happiness. The feeling flowed both ways in abundance, and in that moment I spiritually vowed to do everything in my capabilities to keep it that way until my dying day. Now, years later at her tender age of 19, Tai and I still held the same kind of relationship; even throughout her newly developing career in the Army.

CHAPTER 2

Today, there would be a new chapter written in our book of life. A dreaded chapter. Despite signing up for the Army Reserves and only finishing boot camp and AIT (Advanced Individual Training) less than 6 months ago, a deployment letter was in Tai’s hand as she was sitting at the kitchen table. I paused and kept my composure. Always making light of my negative emotions like I do, before realizing, I let off a quick joke while hoping beyond hope.

“More promotion papers so soon, huh? I know everybody loves you, but people are going to start looking into things if you move up again won’t they?” I winked at her, only half seriously at that point. Since Tai had signed up in the Army a little over a year ago, her career there was already flourishing and seemed to be a breeze. My mother’s fear of my baby losing her innocently never-ending optimism was only a silly worry in our case. Every letter was filled with love and laughs, and every visit in between was full of Tai playing with her younger siblings and cracking jokes on them, just the same as before she had to tearfully go away. Only now with new military grade name calling and insults to add to the mix.

Tai smiled back, but as her mother I knew it was her public smile and not her Tai smile. The latter showed all her teeth, whereas the former one did not. She skipped right to the meat of the already opened letter. “We were never a family that was big on vegetables, anyways.”

“Your company has been assigned for active duty in Kuwait from 10/30/2020 to 12/20/2021.” My heart jumped up into the back of my neck, rendering me momentarily speechless. “Your unit officer will contact you with more details to be designated in the coming weeks,” she continued and finished, while my heart slowly slid down my throat and sadly plopped into the dark acid pit that was now where my stomach was supposed to be. The pain would come soon. I could see no smile in her eyes in the millisecond that had passed since she finished reading that last cursed sentence.

“You excited?” I dumbfoundedly asked her. I just needed to fill the air with something not negative before it became a dreaded dead air space where all types of horrible thoughts could be bred and born. There would be no time for that. October was less than 3 months away.

“I don’t know, yet,” she responded, not surprisingly sounding perky over worried.

“That’s my baby girl,” I thought. “My sunshine. She never truly sees fear, still at 19. Simply curious optimism….” Something that I would ponder over later, and then finally decide to be glad that she was a soldier in the Army as opposed to a free and curious college freshman like I once had been…twice. I looked at her clothes and recognized then that she was dressed for work. The second of her two jobs actually; one was at a clothing store, however this uniform was for the gas station.

“You just get off or going in?” I asked. My heart was starting to melt into the acid pit in my center. I could feel the heat starting to expand into my ribs as, I imagined, my heart slowly bubbled and melted away. I guessed that she was going in, but I needed to hear her say more. One, so I could gauge her emotional state, and two so I could compose mine; which was a hard feat considering that I couldn’t take my eyes off her beautiful face now. Not without realizing that my days of seeing her were now severely counted. *sizzle* The feeling that just passed in the pit of the darkness inside of me was as if my bleeding, burning heart could have the nerve to still have a beating center, which was now breaking more. “BREATHE!! Compose yourself!!” I mentally screamed. "She’s the one that is going to a foreign country for reasons no one knows yet. I’ll just be sitting here in America…."

“Going in,” she replied before I could secretly spiral any further. “Will you drive me?” In all affects, she sounded just fine and dandy. Like the letter was only a postcard that had said, “You are doing a great job, Soldier! We just wanted to let you know that Uncle Sam appreciates you!”

Not really needing to ask, but needing to ask, I calmly responded. “Sure, my love. But are you sure you’re okay? Or you just need time to process it all?”

“I’m okay now. It really hasn’t hit me yet and I’ll know more of what to feel after I get more details.” Tai stood up and grabbed a cranberry juice from the fridge. She was the only one in the house that drank them. After taking a big swig, she turns and says, “Well, I’ll have to get my tattoo MUCH faster now,” and bounds off to the truck for her ride to work. “I CALL AUX!” she yells while heading out the door.

“IT’S A 5 MINUTE RIDE!” I yell back with a giggle. Even with a broken heart, she could still bring a smile out of me. All my children could. I picked up my spirits, ignored my burning heart for the moment and went to drive her to work while having a 5 minute sing along with her. Knowing that those too, were now numbered as she belonged more physically to the Army now, than she did to me. I knew who had her heart, though.

CHAPTER 3

I lay there remembering her singing her little song of hapyee as she ran though my grandmother’s house, while trying to make sense of what was left of my somehow still beating heart. I replayed the kitchen scene from earlier today in my head. It was still another 4 hours before she was due to get off work, so I could risk taking a moment to get emotional this time. The other kids were at summer camp for the next two weeks. It was a rare moment when I had my thoughts all to myself…for better or for worse. TATTOO!! I sat up straight and dropped my head into my hand, giggling and shaking it at the same time. I had so forgotten that I had promised Tai that she could get a tattoo once she graduated high school…then I finessed it to after she graduated boot camp. Luckily for me, the Army rules and schedule made it pretty much impossible for her to do so until after she graduated AIT. My parent brain hoped that she would just give up on the idea. A wild shot and insane thought considering that I had 5 tattoos already myself, all received in the same year, all after the children were all old enough to remember the before and after, and they were interested in the whole process. Our final adjustment to the ‘agreement’ was that I would be there with her, and I would also get another one so she would not be doing it alone. Still giggling, I realized that I needed to figure out a tattoo option, and dealing with Tai, I was quite sure that I did not have much time. She worked fast and hard at anything she set her mind to, and she was SET on this tattoo. She had designed it years before, in 9th grade, when she first started negotiating for one. The picture she had designed was hanging on her closet door, right across from where I was now sitting on her bed.

I stood up to take a better look and refresh my memory of it, after all the years. It was a series of roses, all in different colors, with each rose being designated to an immediate family member. The first rose was for me and had my birth date in roman numerals, the second for her first born sister, third for her little brother, and the last rose was for ‘the boss’, Fancy; all with roman numerals beneath, designating their birthdays. She could have been, and still wanted to be, a graphic artist. Paying for college is why she had initially signed up for the Army in the first place. That is another story for another day, however. The last I remember tease/asking her about where she would place a tattoo this beautiful and specific, she was still undecided. It did not help that I teased her to no end about how painful every place that she tried to choose would be.

I accepted the fact that my failed hopes of life assisting me in the tattoo procrastination game had now been replaced with a weary reality of having to prepare for a new tattoo, with a small smile and a shrug. “Why not? Life is about new experiences, right?” I said to myself as a little pep talk. It helped me to not overthink and later reverse my decision. This was a new experience that I was going to thoroughly enjoy with my baby girl. Something that neither of us would forget for the rest of our lives. I did a quick mental assessment of my emotional state and recognized that my happier thoughts had negated the dark recess that had threatened to devour my core. Now, if I could only find a tattoo idea….

CHAPTER 4

My thoughts were then interrupted by a telephone call. We were now well into that phase of the year where I must prepare for the start of the younger children’s new school schedules. Even more stressful this year, than the last with the new rules designed around COVID and social distancing. My organization skills needed to be immediately improved, and I set to the task at once. Better now, than never; since “later” was a time that did not show it’s face in my home, no matter who promised to come with it.

I walked to the entry point of our house and went to the coat closet. It was, in design, far too large to be designated as a coat closet, and in our family had been redesignated as a craft closet instead. Walking towards the back I locate our trusty turf green crafting dresser; something picked up at a yard sale years ago for $2. It was a visual atrocity, which is why it stayed nicely tucked away into the recesses of the crafting closet, however it was a magnificent piece of storage furniture for organizing our loose crafting items. The top three drawers held various paints and brushes, glue sticks and resins, and finally decorated construction papers. The last drawer was mainly for extra folders and binders that we had no immediate use for.

Reaching into the bottom drawer of the ugly awesome craft dresser, I blindly grab the top of the stack and take them to the kitchen table (aka “Mom’s Office” when I find myself in the “House Management” position of being a mother). I needed to chart out all the new schedules for the family message board, (….well, because “teamwork makes the dream work,”) hoping that the older of the crew will assist with the younger of the crew occasionally. Working faithfully, I finished the school charting in a little over an hour. Everything looked perfect, and despite my daughter’s pending departure nagging my spirit, I noticed that my heart was slowly creeping back into my chest where it was supposed to be. “Everything will be all right.” I assured myself, silently.

Grabbing all the leftover mail notices from the school, paperwork, and picture order forms, I head back to the craft closet to grab one more folder to store them in before calling my task complete. The folder I grabbed this time was slightly thicker than the others. I looked inside and found 5 colorful sheets of paper.

The first one was a picture from Fancy, at age 4. I remembered keeping it because when Fancy first started learning to write, her childhood dyslexia would show her words written completely backwards. Every single letter could be read correctly if you placed the image in a mirror and read the reflection instead. I laughed at the memory, heart now back in place and beginning to swell with a pure love like only a parent could comprehend; being silently thrilled that I had found such a forgotten treasure. One day years from now, I would have looked for this exact picture, certainly to no avail. *beat-beat…swell…beat-beat* The second picture was a 2 page poem from my son at age 10. He is now the resident gamer/youtuber, and poetry is not in his known skill set. This poem, however, was a mother’s masterpiece. It was full of love and humor with catchy lines like, “You keep me warm and fed, with good food to eat. And, you make me clean my room so it won’t smell like feet….” *beat-beat…Swell…beat-beat* Laughing quietly, I moved those pages to the back to delight in what surprise would be next. As expected from the order, the next was a pic from Tamia, then age 9. Her art depicted the family as cartoon characters. Each one of us drawn with such care and letter design for our names that any able minded person would have easily guessed it to be the work of a professional. *beat-beat…SWELL…* I had decided to keep it to prove to whomever, one future day, that her talent was better classified as a gift. Shuffling pages once more, I see the hint of a faded color from an unfadable memory. *beatbeat-beatbeat-beatbeat-beatbeat-SWELLLL….* Here in my hands, was the very first love letter that I had ever received, and by far the most life changing one. I looked at the “pichter” while feeling my heart swell and finally overfill with the fresh air of true love.

CHAPTER 5

Rereading the same love note, I allowed the same memory from earlier to flood my senses for a moment. Long enough to remember only everything good about growing with, loving, and being loved by such beautiful blessings that arrived in the form of my children. Slowly, I felt the newly budding idea begin to consume my creative imagination. Taking the now faded art with me, I rush down the hall to the floor length mirror that hung on the wall. Already wearing a tank top, I turned over the letter, to its reverse side and lightly laid the page onto my upper arm, and wrapped/folded it around while checking my reflection. I could see the image where it could possibly be placed, however was slightly hard to envision because of the type of paper it was drawn upon. The once bright neon orange party paper was now a more hombre coral and yellow toned event. Her drawing was all in permanent black marker, save a shot of bright red that highlighted the focal point of the entire design. The image was of a shaky handed, but delicately drawn sun (you are my suuunshiiine….) in the top right corner, that had rays of permanent marker sunshine flowing from it. In the center of the off centered sun was a scribble over a long forgotten error or change of 8 year old mind. The marker rays of the sun shone down upon a nicely drawn, spiraled, red crayon colored heart. Not a typical elementary school heart in shape, by any means, which made it even more uniquely beautiful. Lightly above the heart that spiraled in love, rested a halo that held its own special rays of black marker light. Small lines drawn straight above it gave it both the impression of it shining, and floating. To complete the heavenly look, Tai had drawn a cloud above, as well as below the halo’d heart at two opposite corners. At the angle I was now looking, I could see the sunshine (my only sunshiiine) resting on my shoulder. The halo, heart, and clouds would fit nicely onto my forearm with a little tweak in measurement. The decision was made…for the most part; now it was time to pick up my darling daughter from work.

CHAPTER 6

“Hi, Mommy!” Tai said while hopping into the car. My nearly adult child still never did anything without a little bouncy flair. “I got an appointment set up for us!” she happily exclaimed.

Playing dull, “An appointment for what?” I asked with a smile in jest, already knowing that my impatient little mini me had spent her slow work day searching for tattoo artists.

“A tattoo place. I found one. It’s 30 minutes away, but the guy is really good and owns his own shop. Other people from my base have went to him.” She proceeds to show me pictures of his work while I try to drive. Fortunately, we were only one turn and 5 driveways away from our home. I glance at the work and nod. She continues, “Our appointment is for 8pm on Friday.”

“You and this young people life,” I say, still teasing. “You know I am good and in bed by 8 with no plans on leaving my pajamas!”

“I know!” She exclaimed, taking me seriously. “I tried to tell him that, but he said it was his only available appointment before I have to go back for more training. They’re giving us more since we’re being deployed so soon,”

Unhappy to hear the last part, I decided to relent and focus on the hapyee. “I’m just teasing, child. You know I don’t sleep. Great work on finding an artist so fast.” Together we giggle and having arrived home, walk into the house together. At the kitchen table, lay the picture from her childhood. Tai goes to it and reads it. Laughing, she reveals her surprise that I still have the letter and her embarrassment at her childhood drawing skills.

I sit beside her, taking the page to point out various items on it. “Here’s the gag, tho, Tai. You drew this when you were 8. 10 years later, you remember I died during that surgery that went wrong., then right.” She nodded. It was a rarely spoken of event that will never be forgotten because the initial surgery was scheduled for the day before her 18th birthday. Having a feeling of foreboding doom, I rescheduled the appointment, but only by a few days, due to the urgings of my long time doctor that knows well my “better now than never” motto. The surgery appointment moved to the day after her 18th birthday instead. We are not a family that dwells on “what-if’s,” but the idea of her birthday being connected with the day of my possible death was unnervingly haunting to both of us, even after a healthy me is still here years later. “You remember I told you guys about the love that I felt when I was…gone. Like, nothing I’ve ever felt on earth, but close to what I feel for you guys as your mom, just exponentially STRONGER?” Again, she nodded. I continue quickly, to dismiss the ghosts I saw that were threatening to form in the consciousness behind her eyes. “Well, the heart reminds me of that love and the halo reminds me of how grateful that I am to still be here with you all. Your love is why I live.” I see her big bright smile break through any ghosts I might have missed. Nothing that lived in darkness could ever defeat her smile. It’s most certainly a gift from the highest God, I imagined. “The clouds are the cutest and the sunshine reminds me of when you used to go running through grandma’s house, singing all the time. We could always hear you before we saw you, between those little running feet of yours and that sweet little singing voice. Anyway, it’s like you drew what I would later feel.” Tai started to blush. I laughed. The day was most definitely a new beginning for us, and I could start to see the lovely sunshine despite the pending storm of deployment. That would do for today. I kissed my soldier daughter on her cheek, and proceeded to start dinner.

CHAPTER 7

FRIDAY. 10pm.

Tai was already halfway done with her tattoo. It was on her shoulder as well, and extended over halfway down her upper arm. A “partial-sleeve” is what the tattoo artist called it. The drawing of her design had been given to the artist as a guide for him to make a freehand drawing of. Admittedly, his work was exceptional. The roses he drew varied in size and style ever so slightly, and instead of the roman numeral birthdates, Tai had opted on replacing them with our first names. It was amazingly beautiful and eye catching when complete.

I made a mental note to come back to him later for more work, but today was not the day for that. Today was for Tai and I to hold hands as we took our first step out of a mother-child relationship into a mother/friend-grown(ish) child/friend relationship. I would be learning to let go (…from a distance), and she would be learning to walk independently (…and know I would be as close as possible).

The tattoo guy finishes and gives Tai a slap right on top of her newly completed tattoo. In the stunned moment before she could react, he smiles and says to her, “WELCOME TO THE CLUB!” I start laughing because I instantly remembered a forgotten memory of the same thing happening after my very first tattoo. The needle artist then turns to me and asks me what I desire, and where. Reaching into my bag, I carefully pull out a transparent folder with the treasured love letter inside, free to view but no longer free to the elements. Preserved, as if taken from the historical section from a rare and ancient library.

“This, on my arm,” I say, “but you have to read the letter first, so you can understand the importance of the picture.”

He reads slowly and begins to smile and nod emphatically. “This is a great one. It’s truly a one of a kind,” he says after looking at the design. I felt no need to tell him anything more as he already knew enough. The first love of my life was going away as property of the US government, and I needed to keep a piece of her captured essence on me forever. I could think of nothing better.

I turn to look at Tai who just now looks at what he is holding, being understandably preoccupied beforehand in the mirror with taking pictures and videos of her newly beautifully tattooed self for social media. “MOM!” Tai was smiling so that I could see every tooth. “THAT’S what you picked?”

“Yeah,” I winked and smiled back. She was not yet as shocked as she would soon be.

“So, I’m assuming because it’s your daughter’s work, you want me to copy this exactly…?” tattoo guy asks, without quite asking.

Turning back to him, I say, “Yes, except where the scribble is in the middle of the sun, I want her name there.”

Tai’s eyes widen and I ask her, “That sound okay to you? Since, I am kinda changing your work…? But, you never signed it, tho!” Again, with the teasing.

“I didn’t know you were gonna put my NAME on you! You always said you’d never do that for anybody!” she said, somehow without her smile ever shrinking. A fact, in fact. I had always said I would never put a person’s name on my body. It would be too stressful to have to deal with the aftermath if ever thing went awry, it went for family as well as for anyone else.

“Well, we’re both about to walk out of here different people. We grow and we change. Even if it’s only our mind, sometimes,” I respond back to her.

While we bantered, the tattoo guy had finished printing a body traceable copy of her work and already had a beautifully scripted design of her name inserted in the sun, as requested.

“Come on up,” he says with a sly smile. “Now, let’s see if your daughter gets her strength from you, ‘cause she didn’t flinch even once!”

CHAPTER 8

1 MONTH LATER

Our day at the tattoo shop was already beginning to fade into time. The new body art had went over well with all family and friends, even including ultra religious MaMaw who believes that the body is a temple that should never be marked, pierced, or desecrated. Grown up, grown ups even grow up sometimes, I guess. Because 10 years ago, I strongly doubt it would have been taken as well.

The younger children had marveled at the beauty in the work on Tai’s arm, and delighted themselves at the nerve of me to decide to later put their work on my body. An agreement was made with them, that upon graduation of high school with apt grades, I would chose something memorable that represented them and add it, along with their name until I had a completed “sleeve.” If they wanted a tattoo, we would do it together, as was done with Tai; and if they did not, they could just have fun watching me get the work done in their honor. Some days, one will come to me with an idea for what their image would be. I find delight in the fact that they look forward to that new chapter to arrive in their lives with a spark of hapyee in their eyes.

Tai would leave for Kuwait in 1 month. She would turn 20, 2 weeks later. She would turn 21, before she came back to me. I reached over and rubbed the now healed, but still slightly raised tattoo. My finger twirled around the swirl off-center of the heart in a self soothing way. I pondered a moment on the uncertainty of what was to come and quickly pushed the mental mess aside to prepare for the departure. I started to make a list of things to send with and to her for her journey. As I finish, Tai bounds through the house, headed out the front door yet again. She was getting in all her free time before she headed back into Army time, I understandably assumed.

“Headed to Jaylen’s Mom!” She said with a kiss on my cheek before disappearing through the door.

“Send her my love!” I try to yell back, but she was gone with the wind. I knew she would still send the unheard message because I said it every single time.

I watch her pull out of the driveway in the truck, Army stickers on every window and bumper, and smile to myself at her sweet, innocent optimism and boundless happiness. “She’s resilient. And yes. She gets it from her Mama.” I felt a fleeting, yet already disappearing twang of mournful doubt twitch suddenly in my heart. Reaching over to my arm, I twirl the swirl of the heart lightly with my finger just for one quick second.

“My Hapyee.” I whispered to no one, and went on to start another hopefully beautiful day with a possibility for more new chapters; quietly humming, “you are my sun shiiine…my only sun shiiine….”

The End...for now.