I once seen a baby born from his mother’s birth canal not breathing and no pulse. The baby was blue and lifeless. I seen doctors rushing in. hospital sirens going off and announcements being made over the intercom that every possible health professional make it to that floor to try and save that baby. I seen doctors working relentlessly trying every option known that they learned in medical school to get a pulse. But what I seen in the far distance of the commotion was a mother with hope. Laying on that table helplessly searching to hear the first breath of her son. You could see silent prayers leaving her spirit that everything will be ok. Needles, defibrillators, cpr, orders being made all were silenced in her ear. I prayed too. I prayed that God would fill the fear of his mother with peace. I prayed that no matter His will, the mother would still see His glory. “Wake up little one. Wake up. Breathe baby breathe,” were the words I quietly whispered to him. After much effort you could see more and more professionals leaving the room and some walking over to the mother to give her reassurance that it was nothing that she had done. You could see the father of the baby, rubbing the head of His wife and kissing her hands for comfort as tears ran down his face. You could see the hope dying. It was their first child. But it wasn’t over. After twenty three minutes a pulse was found. Three minutes later you heard the baby crying. Simultaneously, I saw the mother release the breath that she was holding in for a long time. She laid her head back on the hospital bed and she cried. She cried tears of joy. Tears of relief. God answered her prayers. The baby lived. In that moment, I knew the God I served made miracles. He answered prayers, He was love and He was omnipresent. The baby continued to cry and the hope that was once lost was restored. Life is such a beautiful thing. Even when you are at your worst, it can change around in a split second. God is good.
It’s Better Today
The sun seems to be brighter and warmer than yesterday
The wind seems to have slowed down
The trees seem to be filling with healthy leaves
It’s better today
The clouds seem to be disappearing amongst the blue sky
The grass seems to dance along the wind
The animals seem to be more prevalent in their habitat
It’s better today
The hole in my heart seems to be healing
The tears seem to be drying
The ends of my lips are starting to curve more in an upward direction
My walk seems to me more of a rhythmic beat
My talk seems to be filled with vibrancy
It’s better today
Let Us Look at the Moon
“In the weary of our darkness there always is some sort of light, you just have to find it.”
You made a connection with me before I was born. That connection survived throughout the years of my life. Never to tarnish. Never to fade away. I still hear your breathing. I still smell your scent. I still hold tight to the memories that rest upon my soul. I still make memories. I still gather thoughts to paint a perfect picture of you. Your flaws, your flaws are no less than the engraved lines embedded upon your fingerprints. They are a part of you but they don’t define you. Your smile. Your smile is of reassurance through the dark hours of my life to let me know that “this too shall pass.” You listen. You listen to the depths of my soul to find a way to help me release the energy that I so desire to heal from. You listen to the cries and you manage to wipe away every tear as if they never existed. Let us look at the moon. Those dark hours we shall see the light from afar but yet we are looking at the same silver lining. Let us look at the moon, when the joy is so prevalent amongst the peak of our lives. Let us look at the moon. The moon created by the omnipresent Savior to teach us that light doesn’t fade away even when you notice more darkness. Let us look at the moon, any distance apart, any time of day, and any sound moment. And there lies the connection that we both felt at birth.
At one time you were the inhale of my cigarette
The deep vapor through the horizon
That mellowed deeply through my body
Sending off no regret
You were like the breeze of the unseen solution
Diving deep through my soul
Blowing an uncontrollable smile
A mist of a surprise profusion
But then you came like an attack to my throat
Grabbing the core essence of my being
Burning the inside of my mouth
Exhausting the smoke until I choked
Now I have to exhale my cigarette
And watch the white wind disappear
To move along like the wind and flow like the river
I regret nothing less but the inhale I first took.
My body was uncontrollably shaking as I held tightly onto the blanket that covered the baby while waiting for the elevator to come to my floor. Nurses and doctors kept staring at me while they walked passed. Nervously, I pressed the down button once again and prayed I wouldn’t get caught. A man dressed in a plaid shirt and blue jeans stood beside me waiting for the same elevator to arrive. “Lord, please don’t let him notice,” I thought to myself. The worries and fears would not subdue as I thought that I would never make it out alive.
I was sitting impatiently on the couch, awaiting my husband’s arrival to tell him the news. John and I were waiting for this moment for five years and it finally happened. We were pregnant! I tapped my foot and hummed as I waited for him.
Finally, he pulled up into the driveway and I jumped off of the couch to greet him at the door. “Hey hunny!” he said as he opened the door shocked to see me on the other side. “Hi! I said with such excitement as I jumped up and down with joy. He giggles in surprise. “Did you take your medicine today?” he sarcastically asked. I looked at him sideways as I kissed him on his lips. “I have some great news! Sit down on the couch,” I replied.
John dropped his bag at the door and walked behind me as we headed toward the couch. He took his coat off and plopped beside me patiently waiting for me present the news. “Baby, it has happened!” I screamed. With a confused look on his face, he questioned, “What happened?” “We are pregnant!” I announced as pulled out the pregnancy test behind the pillow. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped as tears raced down his face in pure joy. “Oh my gosh. oh my gosh,” he repeated. I couldn’t help but mimic his cry as we hugged gracefully. A new chapter in our lives had finally began.
The elevator finally arrived at the fourth floor and I frantically stepped in. I repeatedly pressed the “close button” but it seemed to be taking forever to close. The man standing beside reached over to press for floor two when I desperately needed to get to the lobby and out of the door as quickly as possible. I stepped into the back of the elevator and tried to calm myself down. He swayed back in forth with his arms crossed as he glanced behind his shoulder to examine me. I started to become paranoid. “He must know what I have done,” I thought to myself. The buzzer of the elevator notified us that we had arrived to the second floor. A sigh of relief came across me when he walked out and the door closed behind him. “Almost there,” I whispered.
Our parents were beyond excited to hear the news of the upcoming arrival of their first grandchild. We invited them over for dinner to share the good news. “We couldn’t be any happier for you two,” my dad said. “I want a girl,” my mom replied. “No, our first grandchild has to be a boy sweetheart,” my dad kindly rejected. “It doesn’t matter what it is as long as it’s healthy,” I kindly interjected. “Well let’s eat,” John agreed.
Months, doctor appointments, and ultrasounds later, it was almost time to deliver our precious baby girl. We had decided to name her Lily after John’s grandmother whom he adored and had also passed away a few years earlier. “Do you have everything packed dear?” John questioned. “John, we still have a few weeks before it’s time,” I replied. He gave me a stern look as he said “Okay dear,” and walked out of the room. Moments later I felt a sharp pain come through the side of my stomach. I sat up on the bed to re-position myself.
I made it to the car that was parked in the parking deck of the main hospital. I cautiously looked around as I placed the baby in the car seat and strapped her in tightly. She was still fast asleep, dreaming and smiling. I couldn’t help but let my worries release for a few moments as I stared at her beautiful face snuggled inside the blankets. My thoughts were abruptly interrupted when the phone rang. “Hello,” I answered. “Mrs. Baxter, this is Susan your counselor. I was wondering if you were coming in for your appointment today. I didn’t see a cancellation notice and I wanted you to know that it is very important for me to see you today,” she said. “Umm, yes. Umm, no I meant. I am feeling ill and I can’t make it in,” I replied as I hung up the phone. “She must know something is up,” I thought to myself. I got into my car and drove off.
As I set on the bed the pain became more intense to the point that I called John into the room. “Honey….. Honey, please come here,” I demanded. John ran upstairs to adhere to my concerns. “What is it hunny?” he questioned. “Dear, I am having pains around the side of my stomach,” I replied in a fearful voice. “It’s probably nothing baby. You always have some sort of pain and then after a little while it goes away,” he replied. I looked at him in disappointment and turned over with my back towards him. He sighed and walked out of the room. “He just doesn’t care,” I thought as I brushed the idea of something being wrong out of my head. I then drifted off to sleep.
I woke up in a fright as the pain became more intense. By this time, it was late in the evening and the sun had went down. John was lying beside me fast asleep. I pulled the covers off my legs and was headed to the bathroom when I noticed a wet feeling between my legs. I reached over and turned the lamp on. I screamed. John jumped up and said. “What’s wrong?” He looked over and noticed the blood stained mattress. “Oh my God!” he replied in shock. “Call the ambulance now,” I screamed. The pain, along with fear, was so intense that I could not complete my sentences in one breath. John jumped up and called the ambulance as I prayed that everything would be okay.
I started driving hysterically down the street as I thought of the consequences behind my actions. Tears profusely ran down my face when the baby started crying in the back seat. “Hold on baby. It won’t be much longer,” I whispered. For a split second she stopped crying and my emotions began to subdue. I couldn’t believe that I had come to this. I couldn’t remember the story of what led me to this day. I couldn’t feel anymore. I couldn’t think anymore. I just knew what had to be done for my actions. I knew that I couldn’t fix things or make things better for me. I had to carry out what I was intending to do. The drive began.
The staff of nurses rushed me to labor and delivery as soon as we walked through the door. They were everywhere and talking back and forth on things that had to get done and tests to run. I was so scared. John couldn’t do anything but stand there helplessly as he watched the nurses take over. The doctor came right in and gave instructions to get the heart monitor and to check Lily’s heartbeat. They searched, for what felt like hours, to find her heartbeat but nothing. “We need to deliver this baby now. She is in distress,” the doctor said with fear in her eyes. “Okay,” I responded. I was rushed to the operating room and everything soon went black.
I woke up to my husband sitting in the chair, rocking back and forth with his head buried in his hands. There wasn’t anyone else in the room and I was resting in the hospital bed. I tried to sit up a little but the pain in my stomach was so intense, I started to moan. John lifted his head up and quickly came to my aid. “Hunny, are you ok? Let me help you,” he said softly. I noticed dried tears on his face and in his eyes as he tried to sit me up in a comfortable position. I looked down and noticed my stomach was smaller and started searching around the room. “Where is Lily at John?” I questioned. He let out a deep breath and started to rub my head. “John, where is Lily?” I asked again. After a few more seconds of silence he said, “She didn’t make it dear.”
Months had passed by and I still could not find it in myself to get out of bed. I could not grasp the fact that my dear girl wasn’t lying beside me. She wasn’t in the room that I decorated for her. She was never coming home.
A counselor by the name of Susan came to my house once a week to try and get me up and running. Finally, after several months, I decided to go back to work. I decided that I was going to have to continue to live even though I didn’t want to.
The first day back at the hospital, I was welcomed with “Sorry for your loss” cards and get well soon balloons and flowers. It was supposed to be a warming and welcoming day but I didn’t have emotions anymore. I went to my desk that was stacked with papers that needed to be filed. “Here we go,” I sighed as I plopped in my chair. I couldn’t help but think about my baby girl so I quickly decided to walk up to the nursery and see the newborn babies.
I made it to the second floor and the blinds of the nursery were open. I slowly walked by as I glanced at all of the babies lying in the cots. One particular baby caught my eye. She reminded me of Lily. I glanced closer to the window and squinted my eyes a little harder. Emotions started pouring in as I tried to gain my composure. “Lily, is that you?” I whispered. “Lily is dead,” I kept saying to myself but my mind would not convince me otherwise. I went with my emotions and knew that I had to rescue her.
I stopped at a rest stop to take the baby out of the back seat and feed her. My phone kept ringing and text messages kept coming through. I noticed that my husband called numerous times but I couldn’t speak to him. I couldn’t speak to anyone. I had a diaper bag left in my car, packed with essentials that Lily would have needed. I was well prepared for the baby even though it was more of a “spare of the moment thing.” The baby stared at me as I fed her a bottle and sang a lullaby to her. After she drank her bottle, I picked her up and burped her. She then fell peacefully back to sleep. I placed her back into the car seat and continued my journey.After a while of driving I decided to stop and see the text messages that my husband sent me.
“Honey where are you? Please, we know that you took the baby from the hospital. Please call me.”
“Please baby. Know that I know your pain. Bring the baby back to the hospital and surrender. I am here for you.”
“I’m serious. Call me as soon as you can. I want to know that you’re safe.”
I could not help but feel myself with shame. I couldn’t help but notice that I wasn’t going to make it out alive. The baby looked just like Lily and I fell deep into my feelings as if she was Lily. I felt so low, so drained and so ashamed. Lily was dead and there was nothing that I could do about it.
I started driving again after changing and feeding the baby once more. I was almost at the cottage in the woods where I wanted to go to raise her and start a new family with just the two of us. Now knowing that everyone knew, I became paranoid of any police officer in plain view. I decided to head towards the bridge. I decided that my fate was over. I couldn’t bring the baby back to hospital but I couldn’t hurt the baby either. She was so precious.
I got off of the exit and parked my car in walking distance from the bridge. I found a piece of paper in my glove compartment and decided to write a letter to my husband.
I am so sorry that I put you through this. You didn’t deserve to lose your first child and now your wife. Please find it in your heart to forgive me. I cannot live without Lily. She meant everything to me and was the apple of my eye. Promise me that you will move on with your life and find someone special that you can build a family with. I love you so much and I’m sorry.”
I placed the note on the front seat after sealing it with a kiss. I kept the car running for the baby to stay warm and I left.
The night seemed so long awaiting the next phone call. I couldn’t help to pace the floor back in forth wondering what Janiyah was going through. The neighborhood was already pitch black and the lights in my house was glistening as if the sun was still shining. My mind was racing a mile a minute that I didn’t notice the truck sitting in the front of my house with the parking lights on. “God please save my baby. She’s only 7 years old!” I said and the tears became rivers running down my face. My heart wouldn’t stop racing and the time was only ticking…
The whispering melody from my phone finally made its appearance. I ran to the side of the couch and struggled to swipe the answer button with my sweaty fingers… “Hello! Hello! Yes please, what is it?” I screamed in my screeching voice. “1967.” Was the response given on the other end of the phone. Then “click”. Wait! Wait, please, what does that mean?” It was too late. She had already hung up. Hope started trickling from my body like taking a shower, so endlessly.
This was the third phone call that I received, all with senseless words that meant nothing to me. I couldn’t understand anything but I was informed not to tell anyone. That I had to figure this out on my own. I only had twenty four hours to do it. The first message was “2013.” The second message was “birth” and now the third message.
She didn’t tell me how many messages I would receive before my time was up so I kept the phone on charge and I stayed in the living room. The woman on the phone didn’t sound familiar and I couldn’t think of who I became enemies with in order for someone to do this to me. But there was no time for self-pity. I had to save my baby and I had to save her by myself.
The night before was nothing different than any other night’s routine. Janiyah and I came home from work and school and I started to prepare dinner as I always did. I dropped my purse on the kitchen counter and threw my raggedy pea coat across the couch as Janiyah ran upstairs to get her tablet off of her nightstand in her room. “Do you homework Janiyah before you get on that tablet!” I yelled as I looked into the refrigerator wondering what I was going to cook. “Yes ma’am,” she replied in a disappointing voice.
The day had been longer than my night’s sleep at the office and I was already overwhelmed from the demands of the day, so I decided to take out some chicken and cook box macaroni and cheese along with it. “Janiyah would like this,” I thought to myself as I shrugged my shoulders and laid the chicken on the counter to be prepped.
Janiyah stomped down the stairs dragging her purpled colored book bag as it hit every step on the way down. She staggered to the kitchen and plopped onto the kitchen chair to start her homework. “Mommy?” she said… “Yes Janiyah,” I replied while still preparing dinner. “Why is the window open?”
I could hear the melody of my phone once more through my steady cries of despair that lasted nearly thirty minutes. I jumped up from the couch and raced to the phone again. This time my voice was different. My voice had no feelings running through it. It sounded like the energy was steadily seeping out of my body. It was lifeless. “Hello, I answered in a voice unrecognizable to my ears. It was silent for a second and then “I’m finally breaking you down.”
My eyes grew wide as energy flowed back into my body. I wasn’t expecting much more than a one word response. “Who is this? Please, tell me what it is that you want? I will give you anything. If you want money, I have money. I can give you everything that I have. Please, just tell me,” I desperately cried. “I don’t want or need money,” she replied. This time her voice sounded a little familiar. I couldn’t grasp the connection before she hung up the phone. “Wait! You didn’t give me a clue!” I screamed as I threw the phone forcefully onto the floor. My face found its way in the palms of my hands in disbelief. I crouched over the arm of the couch trying to reminisce through my bank of memories on how and why her voice sounded so familiar.
That night after dinner, Janiyah put her pajamas on and headed downstairs to where I was sitting and plopped in my lap. “Mommy, are you going to bed too?” she questioned. “Yes dear,” I replied. She pinched my cheeks and hopped off of my leg. Before she walked up the steps, she blew me a kiss. I caught it in midair and held it close to my heart. We simultaneously smiled. “Good night baby,” I whispered. “Good night Mommy,” she replied.
I tossed and turned all night trying to find a comfortable spot in my old lumpy, stain filled mattress. This particular night I couldn’t seem to find that serenity. I kept looking at the clock, wishing that the time would just stop just enough for my insomnia to run its course. It wasn’t happening. I laid in bed and wondered how the window got open and the numerous events that took place during the day. After hours of thinking, my mind finally shut down and I was fast asleep.
12 hours left of my awarded time and the phone rings again. Without question, I answered. “Please tell me who you are?” I screamed. “Mommy?” Janiyah replied. “Janiyah?” I questioned in disbelief. “Mommy!” She screamed.
Uncontrollable emotions came pouring in as I realized my baby was on the other end of the phone. “Baby, are you ok? Where are you? Please baby, tell me something?” I questioned in uncertainty. “Mommy please help me,” she cried. “She said that I can’t tell you anything but the word is “reunion,” she replied. The phone disconnected.
I woke up the next morning to my alarm clock hanging off the side of the night stand making that annoying sound of a honking horn. I lean over desperately trying to hit the snooze just for another five minutes. Finally, it shuts off. I slowly open my eyes to the morning sun shining through my window. I remove the pieces of hair stuck to my face and wiggled my toes as I try and get myself together for the day. I forced myself onto the side of the bed and made my way to the bathroom. As I walked down the hall to the bathroom, I peeked Janiyah’s room to watch her peacefully sleeping.
Usually Janiyah’s leg is hanging off of the side of the bed and her face is smothered underneath her pillow. This morning was different. As I peeped into her room, I only seen her blankets bundled up. Concerned, I opened the door and walked over to her bed to find her not there.
My heart stopped. I removed the blankets and threw them across the floor as I franticly searched for her. I looked in the closet of her room and underneath her bed. “Janiyah!” I screamed. There was no answer. I glanced around the room once more before heading to look throughout the rest of the house and before I left, I spotted a note on her nightstand.
“Reunion,” I kept repeating to myself. I jotted the word down on my paper along with the other words and numbers that I was given. I tried to put the pieces together but nothing was coming to mind. “This does make sense,” I thought to myself.
Finally, the phone rings again but this time it was her. “Have you figured it out?” she deviously questioned. “I don’t understand what this means,” I cried. “Please just tell me and I will give you anything you are searching for. I just want my baby back,” I continued. “You have 6 hours left to figure this out or else you will be burying your daughter,” she replied and hung up the phone. It’s now morning.
I walked over to the nightstand and picked up the crumbled note. It read
“Dear Frances, I have taken your precious girl to an adventure of her lifetime. You should have taken notice to the open window your daughter questioned you about yesterday. I am giving you 24 hours to figure out my clues. If you don’t solve the puzzle, plan for a funeral. Your time started at 1500. The same time my time ended.
P.S. If would behoove of you not to call anyone. If you do, she will die quicker than your anticipation. So take heed. Farewell.
I glanced over at the clock on my wall only to find that the time is steadily moving in the direction I don’t want it to. “Think Frances, think!” I screamed. Moments later, a memory popped in my head. “1967 was the year of my birth. What does that have to do with anything?” I questioned. “1967, Birth, 2013, Reunion,” I slowly spoke out loud. Something clicked…I snatched my phone off of the charger and I ran upstairs and grabbed my keys and purse and rushed out of the door.
I had been driving for hours trying to reach my destination in time. This all made sense to me now. Tears kept running down my crusted face as I tried to speed down the highway to my destination. The letter, the words, the numbers, they all mean the same thing. “How could she do this to me?” It was an accident!” I screamed to myself as I weaved in and out of traffic.
My phone was now completely silent. My hope was hanging off the end of the cliff because I knew exactly who had my daughter and ehat she was capable of. She lived hours away from me but I knew of the destination where I had to be….
The gps on my phone said I wouldn’t arrive for another five hours. I slowed down a little when I noticed a police car following my every move. I couldn’t afford to be stopped and possibly expose what was taking place. So I kept my cool and played it safe.
1 hour to spare, I creeped into the parking lot of the beach. The sun was setting and I couldn’t see anyone else around but a pickup truck with its parking lights on. I glanced over to the guard rail where the accident occurred. Nothing. I started to panic. “She’s not here?” I asked myself.
Memories kept rushing as it all made sense. “This parking lot is where the accident happened. I accidently killed her only child when I fell asleep at the wheel. We were traveling back to North Carolina and I just wanted to make it home, I didn’t’ notice that I drifted off of the side of the road until my car crashed into the guard rail. Her three year old son wasn’t sitting in his car seat and he flew out of the car. ” I recollected to myself. “The accident happened in 2013 after we left the family reunion,” I remembered. I stayed in my car and I waited.
An hour later, I noticed a flashing light coming from the side of the rocks near coast of the beach. I got out of my car and slowly walked towards it. At this time, it was pitch black. I turned the flashlight on my cell phone on as I walked closer to the light. My heart was steadily racing but there were no more tears to cry.
A couple of feet away there she was with a deceitful grin on her face. In her arms was the body of my lifeless baby. “A life for a life sister,” my twin sister spoke, whom I haven’t seen or heard from since the accident four years earlier.
The false indication that my body is once changing into an everlasting mold formation..
The ,once, single form has now become two in just a matter of moments…
Nothing mind blogging just yet until four weeks later a positive effect
And just two weeks after that……
A heartbeat in a ryhthmatic form so sweet on a monitor that can detect it
First love… real love…. Magic….
Then suddenly all the emotions that were once hidden are reborn… untorn… unbroken.. like they never left
Soon the illusion is not an illusion anymore but reality that the pants once worn no longer fit and food once absorbed makes you sick…remix…
But its all worth it
Because the love that you’ve never felt before is so prevalent that the tribulations are just a small sacrifice to what will soon be born
9 months later a pain is felt so deep down inside only to realize it’s time… to bring forth a miracle…..
The countdown begins but the ending result so worth it… perfect…
Hours later… many pushes later… operations later…. that love has been molded into a physical form… only to grow on you more.
Don’t text me at night as that is the time I dream. My illusions, my fears my hope come become themes.
Don’t text me at night because my thoughts run free. They fly into a mysterious wonderlands with only me to see
Don’t text me at night because I glide through the air, I visit people and dream of things not there.
Thoughts become things and they’re all in the making so dont text me at night because you could be mistaken
Don’t text me at night because it’s my time to cry. My time to unwind from despair that arised
Don’t text me at night because it’s my time to pray to see the green grass of a brand new day.
Don’t text me at night because I become someone else, reprogramming my thoughts to fit the new dress.
Don’t text me at night because it my time to breathe. To cope and gain a sense of relief
So this I say to some but many I mean, don’t text me at night unless you want me to scream..
They say I have Borderline Personality Disorder
They say I have Borderline Personality Disorder, you know, the disorder that causes you not to be able to “control” your emotions.
I say it’s more of being able to express your emotions louder than normal society allows.
But all of the “symptoms” don’t classify me. They aren’t apart of me… but the ones that I tend to lean on during the “rough times”, makes it obvious that I “am not normal.” That I need to “see a therapist.” That I need some sort of medication to suppress my overly emotional state.
Yes, I become emotionally involved with someone I love. I tend to bend over backwards, forwards, side ways and squeeze into small pocket holes that weren’t meant for me.
Yes, I draw conclusions when some that I ‘idealize” don’t do the same things that they use to. When I don’t feel the same love that I used to. When they change and all along I stayed the same.
Yes, I play “Russian Roulette” with my emotions when someone seems to reject me. The love or shall I say the compassion they once had, no longer seems to carry any weight.
But the effects of my disorders brings misery sometimes.. They tell me I am supposed to understand their reasonings. They say that my normal is not normal and my love is not love and I need to accept the hurt as a smaller object than it really is. That my hurt should be the size of a penny when its really the size of a dollar.
This disorder that I have been categorized with is not an disorder, it is really a neatly designed bottled that shows a different kind of art. It shows that I love, it shows that I care. It shows that I give myself a chance to feel in a different way most can’t accept.
But I overcome. I thrive beyond the meaning of a disruption from a neat arrangement. I conquer my fears and I jump. Yes, I jump and I fly. I fly high and I don’t come down until I’m ready. And when I ready, I bring those self improvement proverbs with me back down to this unacceptable world. I take this neatly designed bottle and I put a tightly wrapped memoir inside and let it sail the ocean because there were no instructions written on how to operate this body I wear. There were no instructions on how to think, or speak, or pray or sing. So I do it my way. I do it the way I was designed. And you my friend, you continue to try and be “normal”.