Death is a funny thing. it can be slow and painful, or it can come swift and unexpected. It reaches out and snatches those we love and leaves behind an empty, dark void. It's residue lingers on the living, long after it has gone. It lingers in the tears shed on lonely nights, the nostalgic moments that tantalize the senses, a place you once visited together, the slight scent of a familiar perfume floating through the air. The deceptive moments when you think you hear their voice and you whip around, hopeful and expectant only to find an unfamiliar face, unfamiliar eyes searching yours. The light brush of something against your skin that reminds you of how you once touched each other, the taste of a familiar dish that unrelentingly reminds you of the many meals you shared together. Yes, it is cruel how death lingers and I do believe it never leaves, it just gets more and more hidden in the shadowy recesses of our minds, only to come forth at our lowest points to remind us of our loss.
The morning Shamar passed, I was home with our daughter. For some reason I could not sleep so I decided to make breakfast. I always revisit this memory from time to time because I believe Shamar came home after he died. I remember placing the plate on the table, on the very edge, not intentionally for the door bell had started ringing, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw the plate being pushed back away from the edge. I didn't really pay it much mind then as who ever was ringing the bell was being really persistent and I was feeling the first tickles of annoyance. I swung the door open fully prepared to give who ever it was a piece of my mind, only to find Shamar's mother and boyfriend standing there.
I think I already knew what they were going to say, and deep down I also think I knew he was never going to make it, but still, I was not prepared. She looked at me and said "Shamar is gone", I looked at her stupidly and said " What do you mean he's gone?' She stepped inside and said " He died Debbie, Shamar is Gone." it felt as if someone took a knife and slammed it into my chest, the world went dim, as if I was looking through a piece of cloth covering my eyes. I felt numb, as if my body no longer belonged to me, as if someone else was hearing this terrible news for surly it couldn't be true, my Shamar could not be gone. I collapsed on the floor and let out a cry, it wasn't a human cry, and I'm sure I can never utter such a sound again. It was etched with such pain, such hurt, and disbelief, it sounded like a wild animal. I screamed that I never even got to say goodbye and I kept repeating it in shock on the floor. His mother tried to hug me but I cringed back and asked them to leave, I said I needed a moment to collect my self. She Offered to take Essence and I agreed because I was in no state of mind to watch her. After they left I remember climbing into bed, pulling the covers about me and just staring off into nothing. I stayed that way for most of the next day as well, as if unable to move, for fear that if i moved my sanity would break, that if I moved, I would have to acknowledge the fact that he was gone, that I would never hear him turn the key in the door, I would never see him smile, hear his laugh, or smile at all the silly things he would do. I believed that me sitting in that bed would some how freeze time, freeze the horrible truth that was.
On July 8th, his mother came and dragged me out the house. I had to give my job notice and I also had to go to Asbury to meet his whole family. the whole time I felt as though I was walking under water, everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, sounds seemed faded , the sun was shining but everything looked cloudy to me. My eyes were hidden behind shades, as they were nearly swollen shut from crying. I went into Shoprite and told my manager at the time that I would be taking a leave of absence as my fiance had just passed away. Everyone hugged me and I saw the pity in their eyes and although i know they meant well, I felt so detached in that moment it was as if I watching my self being hugged from somewhere far away. that sense of detachment stayed with me as I met his extended family. I responded when spoken to, even managed to smile at times, but it was as if I was reading from a script, nothing felt real. I was in a room full of strangers, and the only family I had outside of my daughter was gone, I have never felt so alone in my life.
Shamar was laid to rest on July 10th, 2010. It was raining that morning , as though the heavens were just as sad as me and were crying over this enormous loss. I got dressed and headed to the funeral with his mother. I made the decision to not have essence there as I didn't not want that to be the last memory she had of her father. The funeral started and everyone had many nice things to say. When it was my turn to speak, i went up and unfolded a letter Shamar had written to me a month before he got really sick. In this letter he expressed his love for me. he said he had always had a thought of what his wife would look and be like and he had felt like he had found such a person in me. he said he had never loved a girl before me and having me in his life made him want to strive to be a better person. At the back of the note he wrote this ; Shamar + Debbie = Essence forever. My eyes filled with tears and I could read or say no more for my throat had closed up. I turned and walked over to him, laying so peacefully, so handsome, it looked as if he was only sleeping and I gave him a kiss on the lips one last time and whispered in his ear " I Love You". I managed to keep my composure until we were at the grave sight and they started lowering his coffin. It was in that moment that I realized that he was gone, he was really dead and now I was really and truly alone in this world. I lunged forward after his casket only to be held back by his family while screaming " why God?, why did you have to take him from me?" They walked me to the car and I was done, drained of everything. now I would have to figure out how to live in a world with out Shamar, a world void of happiness and light.
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
Good bye My Love ( The Second Loss)
It`s been quite a few months since I've done any writing on this blog. It seems my life is always chaotic and I just cannot seem to find the time to sit down and and transfer my thoughts to words. But , alas that my friends is nothing but a lie. The true reason why I have not written anything in almost a year is because I have finally reached the part in my story that I dread the most, the part where I talk about his death. For me it has been this one singular thought, if I write it out, I am speaking it into existence, and I will finally have to acknowledge what I've managed to keep at bay for the last four years, Shamar is dead and he is never going to smile, hug, kiss me, or see his daughter grow up. So, why am I writing today your wondering? I`m writing because something traumatic happened to me today and the only way to clear my mind was to write... so here I am.
When Shamar got released from jail, he came home, but somehow, I knew something was different. I noticed that his legs were very swollen and his skin was very yellow. I told him to go see a doctor but he insisted that he was fine, that it was the lights in the house casting a yellow tint on his skin and that the reason why his feet were swollen is because he was wearing slippers when he was locked away and I accepted his explanations. So what finally got him to go to the doctors? one day he broke out into an all over itch that wouldn't go away. Nothing worked and after trying numerous creams , he finally conceded and decided to go to the hospital. We called his mother to pick him up, as I did not drive at the time, as she was leaving, I told her that he was going to be admitted, she asked why and I said, look at him, his skin and his eyes are beyond yellow, there is no way they are going to release him tonight and sure enough I was right. After several hours she called me and said, the nurse took one look at him and immediately admitted him. They said he had jaundice and they needed to run more tests . Two days later, we were all hit with the news, his liver was failing and he would need a liver transplant in order to live. The hospital decided that while he was sick, he wasn't sick enough to stay there, so they released him into my care to come home until a liver became available for him.
Now , I had always been the stay at home mother, but now Shamar was bedridden, so I had to get a job. I went and applied to Shoprite, a local supermarket near where we lived, I got the job and started working nights there. So here I was now, during the day taking care of Shamar and a two year old baby. His mother nor father was no where in sight, and I say this here so that later when I talk about his family, you can understand my rage. Shamar lasted two months at home, I cooked, gave him his bathes, rubbed him down and made sure he was comfortable. I got a new bed for the bed room and a new TV so that he was comfortable. I was sleeping in the living room, because he had lost so much weight, that I was afraid if I slept next to him, I might roll over and break him somehow, silly huh? Shamar did not like that. One of the most vivid memories I have of him was the day he looked up at me and said, why don't you sleep in the bed with me anymore, whats the matter, you don't love me anymore? that almost broke my heart in two, so I started sleeping in the bed with him. About the ending of June, I started noticing that he was sleeping more than usual and he wasn't eating that much. I asked him if he felt any different and he assured me that he felt fine. One night, I came home from work and I saw that he was in the same position I had left him in and his water glass was still full. I woke him up and helped him drink some water and then I fed him some food. About four in the morning I woke up to Shamar standing at the foot of the bed, I asked him what he was doing, he replied that he was using the bathroom. He then proceeded to pee all over the bedroom floor, then he climbed back into bed and went to sleep. I realized that he thought he was in the bathroom and I knew that his condition had worsened. I remember crying my eyes out as I cleaned up the pee. I called out from work that day to stay home with him. I called his mother and told him what had happened and that I wanted her to come take him back to the hospital. She said she was at work and I had to wait until she got off. Late that afternoon, Shamar got very confused, he went into the shower fully clothed and tried to turn on the water, stating that he wanted to take a shower. I had to wrestle him out of the bathroom and into the living room because he did not recognize who I was. I locked my daughter int the bedroom and called 911, when they finally arrived, Shamar was screaming at the top of his lungs, completely delirious. They took him out the house in a straight jacket. Shamar never left the hospital after that.
They moved him to a hospital up north to prepare him for the transplant. The last time Shamar spoke to me, was when I went to visit him, via his mother. He was receiving a blood transfusion and was looking very weak. He asked how I was doing money wise and I said we were fine, because even in that state he was more concerned about me and his daughter. He looked up at me and said, don't leave me, don't worry, I`m going to get this liver and I`m going to be fine, then we are going to do all the things we talked about. I kissed his lips and we exchanged I love yous and I left. When I got home, my phone started ringing, Shamar had gone into shock, but they were able to revive him. Now because I didn't drive at the time and I was also working, I wasn't able to visit as much as I wanted. I kept asking his mother how he was doing and she kept telling me he was fine. I finally got a day off and rode up there to see him. As I was walking to the room, his mother said, Debbie, just to warn you, he looks a little bit different. I said ok and walked in, my heart left my chest and fell to my feet. Shamar was hooked up to at least seven different machines, he wasn't even breathing, he had a machine pumping air into his lungs, I looked at his mom and said , cant you see that he`s dying, he`s not even breathing, why didn't you tell me he was like this???!!!! she had no response. His doctor came in and explained to me that I could speak to him, but he doubted that he would hear me. I kissed his face and took his hand in mine and I begged him to fight, I told him that he could not leave me and our daughter all alone in this world, and as I said those words, a single tear fell from his eyes and I completely broke down. Shamar died a few days later on July 6th, 2010 at 2:30 am and with him went my heart and a piece of my soul.
When Shamar got released from jail, he came home, but somehow, I knew something was different. I noticed that his legs were very swollen and his skin was very yellow. I told him to go see a doctor but he insisted that he was fine, that it was the lights in the house casting a yellow tint on his skin and that the reason why his feet were swollen is because he was wearing slippers when he was locked away and I accepted his explanations. So what finally got him to go to the doctors? one day he broke out into an all over itch that wouldn't go away. Nothing worked and after trying numerous creams , he finally conceded and decided to go to the hospital. We called his mother to pick him up, as I did not drive at the time, as she was leaving, I told her that he was going to be admitted, she asked why and I said, look at him, his skin and his eyes are beyond yellow, there is no way they are going to release him tonight and sure enough I was right. After several hours she called me and said, the nurse took one look at him and immediately admitted him. They said he had jaundice and they needed to run more tests . Two days later, we were all hit with the news, his liver was failing and he would need a liver transplant in order to live. The hospital decided that while he was sick, he wasn't sick enough to stay there, so they released him into my care to come home until a liver became available for him.
Now , I had always been the stay at home mother, but now Shamar was bedridden, so I had to get a job. I went and applied to Shoprite, a local supermarket near where we lived, I got the job and started working nights there. So here I was now, during the day taking care of Shamar and a two year old baby. His mother nor father was no where in sight, and I say this here so that later when I talk about his family, you can understand my rage. Shamar lasted two months at home, I cooked, gave him his bathes, rubbed him down and made sure he was comfortable. I got a new bed for the bed room and a new TV so that he was comfortable. I was sleeping in the living room, because he had lost so much weight, that I was afraid if I slept next to him, I might roll over and break him somehow, silly huh? Shamar did not like that. One of the most vivid memories I have of him was the day he looked up at me and said, why don't you sleep in the bed with me anymore, whats the matter, you don't love me anymore? that almost broke my heart in two, so I started sleeping in the bed with him. About the ending of June, I started noticing that he was sleeping more than usual and he wasn't eating that much. I asked him if he felt any different and he assured me that he felt fine. One night, I came home from work and I saw that he was in the same position I had left him in and his water glass was still full. I woke him up and helped him drink some water and then I fed him some food. About four in the morning I woke up to Shamar standing at the foot of the bed, I asked him what he was doing, he replied that he was using the bathroom. He then proceeded to pee all over the bedroom floor, then he climbed back into bed and went to sleep. I realized that he thought he was in the bathroom and I knew that his condition had worsened. I remember crying my eyes out as I cleaned up the pee. I called out from work that day to stay home with him. I called his mother and told him what had happened and that I wanted her to come take him back to the hospital. She said she was at work and I had to wait until she got off. Late that afternoon, Shamar got very confused, he went into the shower fully clothed and tried to turn on the water, stating that he wanted to take a shower. I had to wrestle him out of the bathroom and into the living room because he did not recognize who I was. I locked my daughter int the bedroom and called 911, when they finally arrived, Shamar was screaming at the top of his lungs, completely delirious. They took him out the house in a straight jacket. Shamar never left the hospital after that.
They moved him to a hospital up north to prepare him for the transplant. The last time Shamar spoke to me, was when I went to visit him, via his mother. He was receiving a blood transfusion and was looking very weak. He asked how I was doing money wise and I said we were fine, because even in that state he was more concerned about me and his daughter. He looked up at me and said, don't leave me, don't worry, I`m going to get this liver and I`m going to be fine, then we are going to do all the things we talked about. I kissed his lips and we exchanged I love yous and I left. When I got home, my phone started ringing, Shamar had gone into shock, but they were able to revive him. Now because I didn't drive at the time and I was also working, I wasn't able to visit as much as I wanted. I kept asking his mother how he was doing and she kept telling me he was fine. I finally got a day off and rode up there to see him. As I was walking to the room, his mother said, Debbie, just to warn you, he looks a little bit different. I said ok and walked in, my heart left my chest and fell to my feet. Shamar was hooked up to at least seven different machines, he wasn't even breathing, he had a machine pumping air into his lungs, I looked at his mom and said , cant you see that he`s dying, he`s not even breathing, why didn't you tell me he was like this???!!!! she had no response. His doctor came in and explained to me that I could speak to him, but he doubted that he would hear me. I kissed his face and took his hand in mine and I begged him to fight, I told him that he could not leave me and our daughter all alone in this world, and as I said those words, a single tear fell from his eyes and I completely broke down. Shamar died a few days later on July 6th, 2010 at 2:30 am and with him went my heart and a piece of my soul.
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Loss Number One
In 2007, Shamar was making good money through his "business". We started looking for a way to make it all legit on paper, just in case Uncle Sam started looking our way. After racking our brains, I came up with an idea. Why not invest the money into stocks, and if we make a profit, we would be washing the money and making it clean. Now we had no experience , no knowledge of the stock market , but Shamar trusted me and gave me nine thousand to invest , just to see if it would work. Now, with no help, I started watching Bloomberg TV to try and get and idea on how to go about trading. At the time solar energy was a big topic and I decided that we needed to invest in that market. But what company? how many stocks? should I go all in?? I had no idea. After a few days, I had a list of possible companies, now came the process of elimination... at the time, my favorite show was CSI Miami , and there was a company on my list who's stock symbol was CSIQ ( Canadian Solar) and that's the company I chose. We walked into Charles Schwab and placed the nine thousand in an account, then we stared buying shares of CSIQ.
After a few weeks all nine thousand was placed into CSIQ, and then wonders of wonders, we started making money! it was unbelievable. With in the space of six months our nine thousand turned into twenty and the bank was willing to loan us their money so we could do more trading. At first I told Shamar not to touch the banks money, because I realized that it could end up hurting us in the future. But it was like fast money to Shamar, we would go to bed and wake up the net day up another thousand. He wanted to do it bigger and better. He made the decision to trade with the banks money, sell CSIQ and do day trading instead.
Day trading was much more risky because , instead of having your money sit in one company for lets say a year, each day you were instead moving your money from one company to the next, jumping from one stock to the next. Shamar loved it. He loved that in the space of ten minutes he could make a thousand dollars, but her never knew how to walk away, for every thousand he made each day, he lost about four. Anyway , by the beginning of 2010, We had turned that nine thousand into eighty five thousand and change. I think that we did pretty good for a couple of first timers. However, all good things must come to an end, two months before Shamar went into the hospital for the last time, The stock market took a dive and while I begged with Shamar to sell the stocks we had, he insisted that we hold steady and yep you guessed it, we lost it all. When Shamar died, I had three thousand dollars to my name, between his court fees and lawyer fees for when he was arrested and him giving away majority of his money in the height of his madness, I was left literally broke. This was my first loss of 2010.
After a few weeks all nine thousand was placed into CSIQ, and then wonders of wonders, we started making money! it was unbelievable. With in the space of six months our nine thousand turned into twenty and the bank was willing to loan us their money so we could do more trading. At first I told Shamar not to touch the banks money, because I realized that it could end up hurting us in the future. But it was like fast money to Shamar, we would go to bed and wake up the net day up another thousand. He wanted to do it bigger and better. He made the decision to trade with the banks money, sell CSIQ and do day trading instead.
Day trading was much more risky because , instead of having your money sit in one company for lets say a year, each day you were instead moving your money from one company to the next, jumping from one stock to the next. Shamar loved it. He loved that in the space of ten minutes he could make a thousand dollars, but her never knew how to walk away, for every thousand he made each day, he lost about four. Anyway , by the beginning of 2010, We had turned that nine thousand into eighty five thousand and change. I think that we did pretty good for a couple of first timers. However, all good things must come to an end, two months before Shamar went into the hospital for the last time, The stock market took a dive and while I begged with Shamar to sell the stocks we had, he insisted that we hold steady and yep you guessed it, we lost it all. When Shamar died, I had three thousand dollars to my name, between his court fees and lawyer fees for when he was arrested and him giving away majority of his money in the height of his madness, I was left literally broke. This was my first loss of 2010.
Sunday, August 4, 2013
The Summer Of My Three Losses
The night Shamar got admitted came as no surprise to me. I knew with out really knowing that he was really sick and that what ever he had was no joke. I went to visit him in the hospital and the doctors fully explained to me what he had. His disease was called Auto Immune Hepatitis , a condition where his body did not recognize his liver and was attacking it. The steroids that he was taking at the time kept the attack at bay, but because he stopped them, his liver was destroyed. IF he had went to the doctors much earlier as I have pleaded with him, they would have been able to remove the damaged parts of his live and gave him a half liver transplant from someone in his family that was a match. But alas it was too late for that option, he needed a full liver transplant. He spent a few weeks in the hospital, saw some specialist and they started the paper work to get him charity care so that he would be able to get the liver. During these weeks, I started my new job at Shoprite, suddenly overnight, I went from being a stay at home mom, to the sole bread winner. I had no problem with it. My love for that man was so strong that if I could have given him my liver, I would have, I would have done anything for him. We celebrated our daughters second birthday in his hospital room, he was so swollen but he kept a smile on his face and our daughter had a great time. As I turned to leave that night, he held my hand and said, don't worry, I will get better soon.... my God your so beautiful, I'm a lucky man and then he kissed my. It felt as though my heart wanted to burst threw my chest from the love and fear that raged inside it. A few weeks later, they released him into my care, they said that he was sick, but not sick enough to stay in the hospital.
As I write, my memories are flooding back, memories that I have stored far, far away and it is making this writing process all the more difficult. It is almost as if I'm now forced to confront them all. Shamar came home completely bed ridden. He could not drive, or do much of anything. So it was almost like I had two kids. I had to take care of him and Essence while going to work. I chose the night shift so that I was home during the day to cook and watch over him. I made sure his meds were taking, I ran his bath, and when his feet got swollen, I would rub them down with raw shea butter and it seemed to help. He would watch the national geographic channel and all the channels that had fishing shows. To this day, I still cannot bring my self to watch any of those channels, and many nights as I reflect back, I cant seem to help but think that that was his way of seeing the world.... because he knew he would be leaving soon. He saw the worry in my face and he constantly told me not to worry, that we would get through this all and we would be able to carry on with our life together as planned. Even though he tried to reassure me, I saw him deteriorating right before my very eyes. He lost so much weight, that I stopped sleeping in the bed with him for fear that I would accidentally roll over and break something on him... his skin got even yellower and his pee started looking coffee brown. So that became my cycle , looking after him and the baby, going to work, coming home and doing it all over again. One Saturday morning as I laid next to him watching TV, he said, you don't love me anymore huh? I said what?! why would you say that? he replied : because you don't sleep in here with me anymore.... he also said, let essence sleep up here with us, I want you both close to me. This conversation has haunted me on many a nights. Could it be, that he was seeing the angel of death in our bedroom and that is why he was drawing us close, as if in one final embrace?? I complied to his wishes and started sleeping in the bed again, at night I held him close and that was then and only then that I would let my tears flow. Things stayed ok for a few days and the the end came. I noticed that he started sleeping more, that he was not eating.... I had to force feed him. One night I came home from work and found essence soaked and Shamar still sleeping, just how I have left him. The water jug by his bed was untouched, which meant he had had nothing to drink. I woke him up, forced some water down his throat and he went back to sleep. The next morning around six, I awoke to find Shamar standing at the edge of the bed, He stretched, pulled his pants down, peed all over the floor , then climbed back into bed. I yelled at him, what the hell are you doing? he said what? I just had to use the bathroom.... you see... he actually believed that he had went into the bathroom. As I cleaned the floor, sobs rocked my body and the tears flowed like a hot stream down my face.... I couldn't hold it in anymore. I called out of work that day because I knew it was no longer safe to leave him with the baby. By the end of the day, He had gotten worse. He went into the bath, fully dressed and tired to take a shower.... as I went in to try to pull him out, he looked at me with crazed eyes and started fighting me because he in that moment had no idea who I was!! As shocked as I was with the fact the he no longer could recall who I was, me, the woman whom he had shared the past four years of his life with, I knew that he had to go to the hospital. I called 911 and they sent an ambulance, he was so paranoid that they had to strap his arms and legs down to get him in the ambulance, that was the last time Shamar ever saw our apartment.
As I write, my memories are flooding back, memories that I have stored far, far away and it is making this writing process all the more difficult. It is almost as if I'm now forced to confront them all. Shamar came home completely bed ridden. He could not drive, or do much of anything. So it was almost like I had two kids. I had to take care of him and Essence while going to work. I chose the night shift so that I was home during the day to cook and watch over him. I made sure his meds were taking, I ran his bath, and when his feet got swollen, I would rub them down with raw shea butter and it seemed to help. He would watch the national geographic channel and all the channels that had fishing shows. To this day, I still cannot bring my self to watch any of those channels, and many nights as I reflect back, I cant seem to help but think that that was his way of seeing the world.... because he knew he would be leaving soon. He saw the worry in my face and he constantly told me not to worry, that we would get through this all and we would be able to carry on with our life together as planned. Even though he tried to reassure me, I saw him deteriorating right before my very eyes. He lost so much weight, that I stopped sleeping in the bed with him for fear that I would accidentally roll over and break something on him... his skin got even yellower and his pee started looking coffee brown. So that became my cycle , looking after him and the baby, going to work, coming home and doing it all over again. One Saturday morning as I laid next to him watching TV, he said, you don't love me anymore huh? I said what?! why would you say that? he replied : because you don't sleep in here with me anymore.... he also said, let essence sleep up here with us, I want you both close to me. This conversation has haunted me on many a nights. Could it be, that he was seeing the angel of death in our bedroom and that is why he was drawing us close, as if in one final embrace?? I complied to his wishes and started sleeping in the bed again, at night I held him close and that was then and only then that I would let my tears flow. Things stayed ok for a few days and the the end came. I noticed that he started sleeping more, that he was not eating.... I had to force feed him. One night I came home from work and found essence soaked and Shamar still sleeping, just how I have left him. The water jug by his bed was untouched, which meant he had had nothing to drink. I woke him up, forced some water down his throat and he went back to sleep. The next morning around six, I awoke to find Shamar standing at the edge of the bed, He stretched, pulled his pants down, peed all over the floor , then climbed back into bed. I yelled at him, what the hell are you doing? he said what? I just had to use the bathroom.... you see... he actually believed that he had went into the bathroom. As I cleaned the floor, sobs rocked my body and the tears flowed like a hot stream down my face.... I couldn't hold it in anymore. I called out of work that day because I knew it was no longer safe to leave him with the baby. By the end of the day, He had gotten worse. He went into the bath, fully dressed and tired to take a shower.... as I went in to try to pull him out, he looked at me with crazed eyes and started fighting me because he in that moment had no idea who I was!! As shocked as I was with the fact the he no longer could recall who I was, me, the woman whom he had shared the past four years of his life with, I knew that he had to go to the hospital. I called 911 and they sent an ambulance, he was so paranoid that they had to strap his arms and legs down to get him in the ambulance, that was the last time Shamar ever saw our apartment.
Saturday, June 22, 2013
The SICKNESS
Hello Avid reader, well at least I'm hoping that you are an avid reader of this blog lol, the three year anniversary of Shamar's death is close at hand, and you can only imagine the drastic mood change I've had during the month of June. Anyway, tonight I'm sitting here in his shirt and basket ball shorts thinking too much and I decided to dive back into the chest of tightly closed memories of him and share a bit more. Now, the last chapter I was pulled over on the side of the road with him, trying to convince him to go hoe. Now I guess he must have heard the raw panic in my voice, or maybe he saw the wild fear that filled my eyes, whatever it was, he consented and we made it back home. That first night home, he made me and the baby sleep in the room and he camped out in the living room, a knife at hand ready to fight those who he felt were after him. When a few days went by and nothing happened, he finally calmed down and I was cruelly tricked into believing, or maybe then I was willingly lying to my self.... that he was fine and that we would be OK once again. A few weeks passed, and we laughed at how paranoid he was, he himself saying he could not believe he was acting like that. I laughed but it wasn't a true laugh, for something deep inside me still whispered that he was sick, something deep inside me stirred the deep dark worry that I had in the pits of my stomach.
The last few weeks that Shamar had being " Healthy", he became a whole new person. Where he was frugal before, he started spending money like water. He insisted on me getting my hair done, literally and no I'm NOT exaggerating here threw stacks (money) at me and told me to go shopping for me and the baby. Now where most females would have been happy as hell to have this happen, that unease, that bitter fear in my stomach screamed at me that something wasn't right, that this was not my Shamar, for my Shamar had always been a saver, My Shamar would NEVER give me three grand and say go get what I need, No not my Shamar.... to understand why I say not my Shamar... I will explain. For the four years that I was with him, Shamar wore the same thing everyday, a white shirt, blue jeans and his timberland boots, I would jokingly call it his uniform. He drove a beat up Buick when he could have easily had a brand new BMW cash, he would always say, no one needs to know what you have..... so when he started throwing money at me the alarm bells went off and I worried, man how I worried.. I told him no, I'm ok and every time he gave me money, I would secretly put it back in his safe. Finally I convinced him that he should put all the money in the bank because I was nervous that he would do something crazy with it. We went and cleaned out the safety deposit boxes and we turned everything over to the bank and yes everything was in my name...... which should tell you how much trust he had in me and how much he didn't trust his family.... I just took a fifteen minute break after writing that last line... the tears blurred my vision and I could not see the screen. Now, If you are smart I'm sure you figured out how we came by this money and if you know anything about banks and their FDIC policy, you may be wondering how I was able to but all this money there and not get investigated.... I will explain this in a chapter soon to come.
Now, this may seem like a long period of time had pass since his first break with madness, but I assure you it was only a couple weeks. Suddenly, one day he broke out in this itch, It was an all over itch, it was like every inch of him was on fire, nothing would stop it, we tired all the lotions made for sever itch and it didn't work. Finally one night after the itching got to a point where he could no longer take it any more, he admitted that he needed to go to the hospital. We called his mother, (who by the way was absent the whole time during his crazy spell and laughed when I told her how serious it was) and she came to take him to the hospital. While waiting for her to come, I guess the itch got so bad, Shamar took a plate and threw it against the wall, it scared the hell out of Essence and I had to take her into the room to calm her down. His mother finally showed up and as she was leaving I told her, he is not coming home, she said " how do you know?" I said " look at him!, his skin and eyes are yellow, they are gonna take one look at him and they are gonna admit him. Sure enough, she called me an hour later and said yea, the nurse came out, saw his eyes and skin and immediately rushed him inside. So started his days in the hospital, and the end of my life as I knew it......
The last few weeks that Shamar had being " Healthy", he became a whole new person. Where he was frugal before, he started spending money like water. He insisted on me getting my hair done, literally and no I'm NOT exaggerating here threw stacks (money) at me and told me to go shopping for me and the baby. Now where most females would have been happy as hell to have this happen, that unease, that bitter fear in my stomach screamed at me that something wasn't right, that this was not my Shamar, for my Shamar had always been a saver, My Shamar would NEVER give me three grand and say go get what I need, No not my Shamar.... to understand why I say not my Shamar... I will explain. For the four years that I was with him, Shamar wore the same thing everyday, a white shirt, blue jeans and his timberland boots, I would jokingly call it his uniform. He drove a beat up Buick when he could have easily had a brand new BMW cash, he would always say, no one needs to know what you have..... so when he started throwing money at me the alarm bells went off and I worried, man how I worried.. I told him no, I'm ok and every time he gave me money, I would secretly put it back in his safe. Finally I convinced him that he should put all the money in the bank because I was nervous that he would do something crazy with it. We went and cleaned out the safety deposit boxes and we turned everything over to the bank and yes everything was in my name...... which should tell you how much trust he had in me and how much he didn't trust his family.... I just took a fifteen minute break after writing that last line... the tears blurred my vision and I could not see the screen. Now, If you are smart I'm sure you figured out how we came by this money and if you know anything about banks and their FDIC policy, you may be wondering how I was able to but all this money there and not get investigated.... I will explain this in a chapter soon to come.
Now, this may seem like a long period of time had pass since his first break with madness, but I assure you it was only a couple weeks. Suddenly, one day he broke out in this itch, It was an all over itch, it was like every inch of him was on fire, nothing would stop it, we tired all the lotions made for sever itch and it didn't work. Finally one night after the itching got to a point where he could no longer take it any more, he admitted that he needed to go to the hospital. We called his mother, (who by the way was absent the whole time during his crazy spell and laughed when I told her how serious it was) and she came to take him to the hospital. While waiting for her to come, I guess the itch got so bad, Shamar took a plate and threw it against the wall, it scared the hell out of Essence and I had to take her into the room to calm her down. His mother finally showed up and as she was leaving I told her, he is not coming home, she said " how do you know?" I said " look at him!, his skin and eyes are yellow, they are gonna take one look at him and they are gonna admit him. Sure enough, she called me an hour later and said yea, the nurse came out, saw his eyes and skin and immediately rushed him inside. So started his days in the hospital, and the end of my life as I knew it......
Thursday, May 30, 2013
The Sickness ( Prelude)
Now, before I get into his sickness and all the madness that ensued after his death, I must go back and explain his relationship with his family. After doing this, you will no doubt understand why I was shocked as to what took place later down the line. Shamar never had a close relationship to his mother or father. She had him at a very young age and never quite figured out how to be a mother. In fact, Shamar told me that he was with me, that he loved me because I was everything that his mother wasn't. He described growing up with her as that of having a room mate. She would parade guy after guy in front of him, even messed with a few of his friends along the way. He never truly had respect for her and despised every thing she stood for. Growing up, he said she never took him regularly to the doctor or dentist like a true mother would, he was left to go and come as he chose by the age of six. As for his father, he was never in the picture. Shamar told me that he had to reach out and start a relationship. In fact, the only time that they both showed interest was when he started getting recognition for being a great football player and they thought he was their meal ticket out of town. Shamar took him self to school and while his grades weren't the best, he stuck it out and graduated high school and went off to college. Given the way he was raised, I think he could have went down a very different path , especially since he was living in Asbury NJ. Yes, My Shamar was a special man.
When I first started dating Shamar, he told me that he was sick, that he had a stomach condition but that his medication kept it under control. He revealed that the reason why he left college was that he was in so much pain there that they sent him back home to see a doctor. After he found out what he had, he decided to stay home, as he had lost his passion for football, and that was what he was really going to college for. What did he have do you ask???? Well his condition is known as Auto immune Hepatitis , a disease where his own body was attacking his liver. Of course he never explained it to me like that, he made it seem as though he had a slight illness and I had nothing to worry about. About a year into our relationship, he stopped taking his medicine. He said he did not like the way it made him feel and that he felt much better off them. You see, he was on steroids and they were making him gain weight and he did not like that fact. At first I told him that I didn't think that was such a great idea, but he kept assuring me that he was fine and I dropped it. As the months turned into years, I noticed changes in him. He was losing weight rapidly and his eyes had started to turn a yellowish color. I told him about these changes, but he always had a reason why, he would say his eyes looked like that because he was tired and he was losing weight because he was working out more. I didn't believe those reasons, but he was very stubborn and insisted he was fine. When he came home from jail, His feet were swollen and his skin now started to get the sick yellowish tint that his eyes had, but again he had answers for it all. A few months after he came home, he went, well there is no other way to explain it, Shamar went mad. He became convinced that people from Asbury, his best friend was trying to kill him. At the time I had no idea that he had gotten so sick that it was starting to affect his brain. For a month or more, Shamar had me and Essence bouncing from hotel to hotel because he fared for our safety. No matter how hard I tired to tell him that we were not in danger, it's like he couldn't hear me. Finally one day after driving up and down the parkway for hours, I burst into tears in the car, told him to pull over, I then grabbed his hands and said baby I love you, but I can't keep driving around like this, I pleaded with him to take me and the baby back home. His eyes, oh my God his eyes were so yellow, he looked so caged and frightened and in that moment I saw that he really believed that he was going to be killed and my heart filled with dread. How could I take care of him? I never encountered something like this before, I wanted to reach inside him and shake him, as if to say Shamar!!!! stop it, this isn't funny any more, but I could do no such thing.... I must stop here for it feels as though I'm reliving that very moment all over again.
When I first started dating Shamar, he told me that he was sick, that he had a stomach condition but that his medication kept it under control. He revealed that the reason why he left college was that he was in so much pain there that they sent him back home to see a doctor. After he found out what he had, he decided to stay home, as he had lost his passion for football, and that was what he was really going to college for. What did he have do you ask???? Well his condition is known as Auto immune Hepatitis , a disease where his own body was attacking his liver. Of course he never explained it to me like that, he made it seem as though he had a slight illness and I had nothing to worry about. About a year into our relationship, he stopped taking his medicine. He said he did not like the way it made him feel and that he felt much better off them. You see, he was on steroids and they were making him gain weight and he did not like that fact. At first I told him that I didn't think that was such a great idea, but he kept assuring me that he was fine and I dropped it. As the months turned into years, I noticed changes in him. He was losing weight rapidly and his eyes had started to turn a yellowish color. I told him about these changes, but he always had a reason why, he would say his eyes looked like that because he was tired and he was losing weight because he was working out more. I didn't believe those reasons, but he was very stubborn and insisted he was fine. When he came home from jail, His feet were swollen and his skin now started to get the sick yellowish tint that his eyes had, but again he had answers for it all. A few months after he came home, he went, well there is no other way to explain it, Shamar went mad. He became convinced that people from Asbury, his best friend was trying to kill him. At the time I had no idea that he had gotten so sick that it was starting to affect his brain. For a month or more, Shamar had me and Essence bouncing from hotel to hotel because he fared for our safety. No matter how hard I tired to tell him that we were not in danger, it's like he couldn't hear me. Finally one day after driving up and down the parkway for hours, I burst into tears in the car, told him to pull over, I then grabbed his hands and said baby I love you, but I can't keep driving around like this, I pleaded with him to take me and the baby back home. His eyes, oh my God his eyes were so yellow, he looked so caged and frightened and in that moment I saw that he really believed that he was going to be killed and my heart filled with dread. How could I take care of him? I never encountered something like this before, I wanted to reach inside him and shake him, as if to say Shamar!!!! stop it, this isn't funny any more, but I could do no such thing.... I must stop here for it feels as though I'm reliving that very moment all over again.
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Life With Sha
Tonight is a bad night. The devil has perched himself upon my shoulder and he is replaying Shamar s last months of life over and over for me. So before I cry my eyes out and completely destroy the work I've done so far to my heart, I decided to write for a bit. Now life with this man wasn't a bed of roses. He wanted me to stay home and take care of the house, but sometimes when he got stressed over the bills and stuff he would yell and say that I needed to get a job, and every time I got hired somewhere he would break down and beg me to stay home. That was one of the many continuous arguments we had. Shamar was a rare find. He danced with me for no reason, came home with random gifts and always made sure that I had what I needed. He was however very frugal with money. He never spent more than he had to and insisted that we lived a very simple life. He stopped working at Shoprite and picked up something else. I won't say what at this time. Still debating as to whether or not I should speak upon it. He always said he did what he did because I came and made him want to be a better man, that he felt he had to do that to keep a girl like me. As much as he was loving, he was also over protective. He would always tell me that he was afraid that one day I would find someone better and I would leave him, no matter how much I would try to tell him that would never happen, he never believed me. He liked when I stayed home, and it took him over a year before he formally introduced me to his family. There isn't really much more to stress on our home life, he did what he did and I cooked, cleaned etc, etc. On April 19th, 2008 I gave birth to our daughter, Essence Nyota Taylor and my life changed forever. Being a mother came natural to me and she was a good baby. Shamar was a proud as can be, which relieved me because so many men that age tend to take off and not stay with their family. having a child only made him work harder and he stayed out more and more, so majority of the time I was home alone. I admit I got stir crazy because I didn't drive and sometimes I just wanted to get out the house. Essence as I said before was an easy baby. Hardly cried and was very sociable. She never crawled, one day she just stood up and walked. She stopped her self on the bottle at nine months and gave up her pacifier soon after. Her first words was DaDa and the day when she finally said mama I swear I almost melted into the ground. We settled into a routine and things were going smooth for a while. But with the good in life, there comes the bad. There was a girl, his best friends girl, that he came home on day and told me about... he said she was flirting with him but it wasn't nothing serious and that I didn't need to get angry. I believed him, because I was naive and because I never thought he would do that to me. However when I finally met this girl, I knew within my self that he lied about nothing happening She acted as though she was wifey and I was the intruder. I confronted him about it and he denied it completely. To this day, Only God can tell me that he didn't cheat on me. After that my trust in him cracked and I never really looked at him the same. In 2010, he got arrested after getting a fight. He was locked up for over a month and I stayed right by his side. I made sure he had money on his books and i wrote him everyday. I never thought that I would be one day visiting someone in jail, but I did it for him, because I loved him and a real woman dose not turn he back when things get rough. When he came home, it was like he was a different man. He wrapped me in his arms the minute he walked into the door and said I love you girl... and handed me a letter, a letter in which he told me how much he loved me, how much I changed him, how I made his future bright, that him plus I equaled Essence, eternal love. I was blown away by this change. He stopped going to his friends house and he was home more. I couldn't ask for any thing more. I strongly believed his time locked up made him realize that he had all he needed at home. But with most things in my life, this period of happiness was short lived, a few months later, he got very ill and passed away. I am tempted to continue on, but alas, I'm not quite ready to face what I must write next...
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