Don’t tell me how to think Mama. You gave me a mind all my own. And I owned it.
You wanna know what I saw the day I met the man who’s juice helped made me? You thought I should? What? Stay away? Not look him in the eye head on? Is that what you daddy thought you to do? Well? Mine didn’t teach me at all and even I know how to stare down a man in broad daylight for her Mamas good name!
Drove right into the town I was made in. Asked at the John deer his address. Drove into the place because I owned it. Knocked on that door. Blues eyes met me. Linda all over my body. Shook that man to the core. Then prayed for his soul.
He looked into the eyes created by his acts. As I held my head up high. And Linda in my name. Rolls off my tongue. He ain’t got nothing on us baby Mama. Humbled he witnessed the woman that came from my own Mama.
That’s why he never regretted it. All over me. You walked up to that door. Knocked to demand what she was owed. Like don’t even. Think I’d shrink away and not you honor? To that father.
And show him who I was made of.
Yes. I wanted to look into the eyes that helped make me stronger for being a horse ass of a father. Ok?
And yet? I loved him anyway? Just like you did Mama. There’s no shame in our game. Ever.
Ever. Ever your daughter.
Your telling me it’s twisted up. I’ll unravel it. Unwrap it. So you can see the blessings beyond the pains of a birth in the making for 56 years. A divine role changing of this guard.
I’ve watched over your honor with my own life. The respect I get? I’ve earned. How? By never denying you as my Mama and a part of my story.
It says. Honor they father and mother. I have. And do each day that I take breath. Honor you both for what can be honored about our union.
My love. Love god gave me to travel this world without either of you never ends or stops. Each day I wake. That love is always there within this cup called Belinda Jean.