Yesterday, I Cried_ Celebrating the Lessons of Living and Loving - Iyanla Vanzant [135]
We were both crying. Aunt Mabel was thanking God at the end of every question without giving me an opportunity to answer.
“Do you know how long I have been waiting and looking for you? Thank you, God. Where have you been? Thank you, Jesus. Nobody could tell me a thing. Thank you. Thank you. They all said they didn’t know. My God, my God. God promised me that I would see my sister’s children before I closed my eyes for the last time. I prayed and asked God. God answers prayer. Thank you, God. Where is your brother? Where is baby Ray?”
When Aunt Mabel calmed down, I told her that Ray was just fine. I did not tell her that he had a drinking problem. I told her about my children, I told her I had been through law school. When I said that, she started crying all over again. “You must be like your mother. She was smart as a whip.” Hearing that made me cry. She asked about Nett and Daddy. I told her about Daddy and that Nett was fine. We talked for nearly three hours. Aunt Mabel said that she had some pictures and that she wanted to see me and the children. I told her that my boyfriend was coming to D.C. in two weeks, and that I would come with him. She started crying again. When I hung up the telephone, I knew that Aunt Mabel had the information I needed to finally make sense of my life. I knew that if Nett was willing to acknowledge that she was not my mother, I needed to know a little something about my real mother.
Holding flowers in my hand and carrying framed pictures of my children in a shopping bag, I rang Aunt Mabel’s doorbell. When I heard feet shuffling up the hallway, my heart started to race. When the first lock turned, I broke out in a cold sweat. I wanted to run. I had to pee. I was freezing. The chain slid off. The doorknob turned. The door slowly opened. Standing before me was a picture of myself. I was short, about four feet ten inches tall. I had a beautiful head of salt-and-pepper hair that was mostly salt. I wore glasses. If it were not for the circles under my eyes and the age lines around my mouth, you would not have known how old I was. I had never seen myself like this before. I was beautiful. No. I was gorgeous.
We stood in the doorway, staring at each other and crying. She was thanking Jesus. I was mumbling, “Oh my God.” When she reached forward and touched me, the top of her head came to my chin. I rested my face on her head, and we cried some more. One of her neighbors opened their door and peeked out at us, so we went inside her apartment, still holding on to one another. I didn’t let go until I really did have to pee.
When I came out of the bathroom, she was waiting for me in the hallway. She took my hand and led me to the kitchen. She had prepared a lunch of cornbread, collard greens, and iced tea.
“I don’t eat no meat no more since I started suffering so bad with pressure. I had to change my diet.”
“That’s okay, Aunt Mabel. If you fixed this for me, it’s just fine.”
“Do you still like chicken? You children was some chicken-eatin’ somebodies. Your daddy and grandmomma was always travelin’ with a bag of chicken for you and your brother, Ray. He still like the wings?”
She knew everything. She knew all about me. I was so full I didn’t want to eat, but knowing that she would be upset, I took a few forkfuls before asking her the question. “What can you tell me about my mother. I mean, was she my mother? Was Sarah really my mother?”
“Oh, blessed Lord in heaven! Of course she was your mother. What do you mean? What do you want to know?”
“I never really knew for sure. No one ever talked about her much. I kept hearing little things, but nobody, not even Daddy, ever told me anything about her.”
“He wouldn’t, that lyin’ dog. I know it’s wrong to speak ill of the dead, but if I could get my hands on him, I would ring his pretty neck. Was he still pretty when he died? Because he was a real pretty boy when he was alive. And what about his momma? She still