The Root

Deep within the process of growing up, lives a darkness that’s thick and twisted, like earthly roots intertwining with unmovable rock, and engulfed in 10,000 fires. It’s near impossible to see through this darkness, so you depend on the heat of the flames to guide you. Your skin is constantly burned, damaging your sense of direction with each new festering wound. Eventually it’s hard to breathe, as the darkness spreads, encouraging intense fear. You start to realize this darkness, is self created, making you fear it even more. You learn how to ignore it, letting it suffocate growth in everything attached to you, adapting to it as you become stuck in it. It gets to a point where, you’ve learned how to put a cover over the pain you’re enduring, so to speak. Like “it’s there but, at least I don’t have to look at it”. Resolving any accountability to rip that blanket off, and clean the mess underneath with your bare hands. Cause that’s what it would take to unravel those thick roots from those intimidating rocks, allowing the fires to die down. Then maybe, just maybe your roots will breathe again.

“I was born in 1939, February 2nd. 2/2 don’t you forget it. That was the day a star was born”. My grandma raps to me in her sing songy voice. Her dungarees, as she calls them, rubbing at the knees from her rocking back and forth to the beat playing only in her head. I sit there on the couch, smiling up at her, admiration encouraging the sparkle in my eyes. I knew what she was gonna say next, I just never got tired of hearing it. “Ya grandma was a go getta! They couldn’t keep me from living my life. No matter how much they tried. My sister used to be like Evelyn you not going to that party, they’ll never let you go. And I’d look at her…”. Grandma paused her dance to look me dead in my eyes, left brow up, finger pointing she said, “Dolores, I’m GOING to that party, and that’s that. So I asked my mama, she told me to ask my father, I ask my father, he told me to ask my mother. So I told both of em’, the other said yes, and carried my ass on outta there to the party”, she laughs, “they wasn’t stopping this train, nope”. I watch her laugh, as I’m giggling; unaware of her intentions behind telling that story.

The way I grew up was very traumatizing at times, so I listened for the most part when my parents told me “nah you not doing that”. They knew best how to keep me from dangerous experiences. Why would I go against that? Grandma has her way though, to let cha know when things was unfair. So even when I couldn’t speak up, her voice always rang to protect mine. “You gotta always choose what makes you happy baby girl. You see how ya grandma do? I go where I want to, when I want to. Don’t you ever accept unhappiness”. How did she know I was so unhappy, I had gotten good at hiding that. My greatest fear was getting in trouble for exposing my true thoughts and feelings. It can be difficult for parents to accept depression in their child, but luckily my Grandma was vocal about me when she noticed. Unfortunately I was the only one that could hear her.

“Hey baby girl” I look up from my phone, as my ears pick up her sing songy voice. I don’t see her yet, but I feel her approaching. “Hi, grandma”, I respond softly with a smile. A red bird flies overhead and rests on a branch of the Pine I’m meditating under. “I see you finally looked under that cover”, grandma teases. I laugh, and she giggles. An unspoken thought between us. “It took death”. A lot of death. Forcing me to face my fears, as my protection became my own responsibility. So I broke my roots free from the rock’s hold. And vanquished murdering fires, to save myself and the two lives I carried within me. Surprising myself with every step I took forward in healing. My grandma appears, interrupting my self reflection. She stretches her arms up high, hands wide open, back arched and smiling at the Sun. Then lays down in the grass beside me. “I am so happy you’re here lady”, I sing to her. Her energy flooding me with Joy. Accepting healing allowed me to strengthen my abilities to grow things I didn’t even believe I could make. My grandma is still my Hero.