Mar 23, 2015


One Month was originally shared on Honoring Ossie, a blog dedicated to his memory.
Saturday March 21st marked one month (30 days) since my cousin Ossie’s departure from this physical world. Though we, the loved ones left behind to deal with the hole his absence created we know that he is in a better place. He is in a place void of human suffering, the endless physical, emotional and psychological pain he had to endure as a result of his valiant battle with stage 4 nasopharyngeal cancer.  Five years he soldiered on, he fought, he won, he triumph, he stood tall and he ran when he could barely walk. He knew his time was near and came into acceptance long before any of us could, or would. He took his final steps into glory and face death head on. I wonder if I’d have that courage.
I am past the pain of disbelief. I now vacillate between numbness, brief forgetfulness and acceptance. Life goes on, not even pausing for his last breath, the clock never stopped to acknowledge his passing. People were laughing, animated while he lay still dying. They were planning their lives, celebrating, acknowledging, affirming, and clueless to the deafening silence of the nothingness of his pending nonexistence as he closed his eyes to the permanence of eternal muteness.  I laid in my bed listening to the sounds of life around me, living and resenting the interplay of conversations, of the resonance of joy spilling over and bouncing off the paper thin walls, of the music playing loudly next door as they partied. Life goes on as death walks in and stakes its claim.
I am perplexed by death. I am vexed by death. I am battling a tumultuous array of feelings as I am strangely unenthusiastically grateful to death with its swift merciful hand snatching away unbearable insurmountable pain and suffering. I am defiantly reluctant to acknowledge and willingly deny knowing death, though it’s not a stranger.
Death is the uncomfortable familiar that barges into every room, every place, every house, and every space uninvited not caring for an invitation or waiting for a greeting or an introduction. It cares not for formalities nor does it discriminate to please, ease or appease.  I know I will face death one day, it’s inevitable. I pray that I have the courage Ossie did, to face it and say I am ready, lead the way.3d Dpve
Rest in peace cous, God speed.

Mar 21, 2015


Emma Haslam plus size pole dancer enthusiast from Derby England smashing fitness stereotype on Britain’s Got Talent by showing through her routine that consist of her swinging her plus size around the pole and hanging upside down held up only by her legs that she is not limited by her size.

Seeing her do her thing made me want to slam the mic down on the ground and yell, “BAM, Challenge!” even though I don’t have a damn mic. I watched the whole routine in opened mouth awe realizing a startling truth. We all in some ways internalized the negative stereotypes of plus size people and limit them in our own minds assigning them tasks they can and cannot do.

Isn’t it interesting that “we” all in some way resist stereotypes that categorize us into neat little boxes limiting our potential and yet we apply those same methods to fat (plus size) people without their consent and then are overly critical and vexed when they smash right through them?

Mar 17, 2015


I have this little phobia about dark drinks where you are not able to see straight through to the bottom. If I cannot see the bottom of it, I don’t want it. The only other alternative is a glass. I will pour it into a glass and examine the bottom of the bottle or can before consuming it. Think am paranoid after reading about my phobia well not me. I have learnt that some healthy paranoia can go a long way. Don’t believe me, read on and you tell me.

Today I was in the grocery store next to my house just perusing the isles for specials when I encountered a Caucasian couple standing by the soft drinks area. As i stood checking the fruits I overheard their conversation. They were discussing the best selection of soft drinks. Some reading this will say none as soft drinks have no nutritional value but hey people will choose what they will choose that is the beauty of freedom of choice. But I digress.  

Where was i? Oh yeah, they were engrossed in the discussion of pop selection when I heard the husband say, “no, absolutely not. I don’t want anything dark, we can take the cream soda, sprite, gingerale, or 7 up but I don’t want any coke and I especially don’t want Pepsi.” The wife nodded her head.

pepsiAs I was proceeding past them the husband looked at me and said. “If I can’t see the bottom I don’t want it.” To which I answered, “You preaching to the choir, am the same way.” He then elaborated by saying, “last month I bought a 6 pack of Pepsi and two had shit in it. I stopped abruptly immediately grimacing as he continue to express his conviction, “I will NEVER, NEVER, EVER drink a Pepsi again, or pick up a drink where I cannot see the bottom of it.”

Taking my leave I said bye to the couple and grimace again as a shiver ran through my body. I shook my head to rid my mind of the image, of course it didn’t work as  I kept thinking ‘eeewwwww’ while chanting in my head, ‘oh yuck, yuck, I didn’t need to know that, ahhh!' I didn’t need to know that, yuck,’ as i bemoaned, ‘now I can’t UN-know.’

So call me paranoid if you like. I will proudly wear the banner.  in case you were wondering, yes I pour clear drinks in a glass before drinking if it comes in a can where I cannot see to the bottom.

Mar 10, 2015

14 The strategic thief & The Bold-face blamer

He positioned himself close to the candy stand of the subway convenience shop seemingly on the blind side where he has a place to hide himself. He stares at the candies and chocolate bars longingly and looks up to sees if any of the workers are watching him. He moves away just slightly out of the workers line of vision. He parks his small stroller covered with a blanket off to the side and walks casually along the side of the little shop as if browsing the general area.
I stood off to the back side of the shop at the far end near to where the man hides himself in a pee-a-boo manner near his mini stroller. Putting myself on alert I observe the man shenanigans as he seems to be strategizing how best to fulfill his desire for one of the treats winking back at him. He walks back toward his stroller taking darting glances toward the workers to see when he is not looking worker. Periodically he moves forward then jumps back quickly as the worker turns facing our way. Then the opportunity came and he snatches a coffee crisp chocolate bar shoving it quickly chocolate barsin his pocket. Walking quickly pass his stroller he walks into the crowd coming off the escalator and throws the chocolate bar on the ground.
A gentleman passing by unaware of the shenanigans picks up the chocolate bar saying, “sir you drop your coffee crisp.” He turns to the gentleman as if surprised and said, “Oh! For me, thanks!” smiling broadly he pockets the bar triumphantly only to turn around and see the worker right behind him. The worker said to him, “you wanna pay for that?” The man looks at the worker innocently saying, “pay for what.” The worker said, “the coffee crisp bar you just put in your pocket.” The man answers, “why should I pay for it, the man just gave it to me, I didn’t take it. Just then my bus came and I ran to get it. I don’t know how it ended but by the look of the worker with the cellphone on his ear and the man in front of him I’d say he didn’t get away with.
Sometimes you must choose to not engage:
He walks into the train pulling a wheel bag in his left hand and a folded chair bags with wheelsfashioned like a knapsack on his back. As he moves in the train he roles the wheel bag over my left foot and mumbles to himself, ‘there’s someone foot’ but makes no attempt at an apology. I stared at him hard. He looks at me and says, “You should know someone is coming in the train.” Looking at him steadily in the eye I harrumphed audibly in the back of my throat while shaking my head. My eyes fixed on him in a death stare I thought to myself, ‘not today satan, be gone!’
He had the nerve to try to blame me because HE ran over my foot? Seriously? I guess he taught I should have somehow ripped out the train seats to physically move it and myself out of his path for his entitled ass. Lord, have mercy, give me strength and patience; sometimes you just have to choose your battles. I wasn't about to give that fool a foothold on my morning. Truth be told the bag rolling over my foot really didn't hurt because it caught the side of my shoe and didn't’ crush my toes, so I was able to be gracious and let it go. However I kept looking at him very seriously (what my daughter call the stare of shame and doom) until he became visibly uncomfortable and immediately cease his chattering and remained silent for the rest of the ride.

D.S.B.S.Rhapsody©All rights reserved.

Feb 28, 2015


Oswald Gould, Navy Petty Officer 2nd Class on Angel Duty now.
We called him Ossie, my cousin. Today makes it one week since he has passed, gone on heaven ways leaving us to cope with his absence and find a way to move forward regardless. The world marches on without missing a beat, time not stopping just kept on ticking. Some days I go on without a hiccup. Some days I stop feeling like I have been slammed into a wall and I can’t breathe and I have to sit down.
Oswald (Ossie)
Oh cous, you will be missed. You were well loved, though at times like all of us you probably didn't always feel it as much when the family dynamics came into play. That's life; we all have our story to tell on that score.
I was the baby in my branch of the family but among all 9 of us kids Ossie was the baby. He was very handsome. God sure did take his time moulding him from beginning to end. He got the lion's share of masculine beauty plus that of the guy behind him in line, the guy in the middle of the line and the guy at the end of the line. He was cute as all get out. A gift I think at the times he felt was more of a curse than a blessing because whenever we had events Ossie use to have to hide from girls because they literally plastered themselves on him (I kid you not) while others flock to him like bees to honey. It was hilarious to see the “help me” look skitter across his face as he anxiously span the crowd looking for Tantie Jacqueline (his mom). My dear sweet handsome cousin was terrified. We all laughed at his expense of course kids being kids but he was seriously scared. He would run behind Tantie Jacqueline to hide sometimes begging her to protect him and keep him safe. When I think of those days I smile as I am smiling now.
Fast forward eons later, he the grown man, me the grown woman, living worlds apart. We managed to keep a connection through long phone conversations and mini texts back and forth, it wasn’t ideal but, it’s what family does, make the effort to say connected.
If you are reading this cous, yeah am talking to you, (don’t be rolling your eyes at me) thought you were gonna get a break huh, right! You keep dreaming buddy, you are not off the hook mister sweet delight, you are on angel duty now so check in, stay connected and lemme know what’s ahead when I hit a blind spot.
Love you much,
Hitting it straight from the hips not letting it slip, yeah I know, corny as hell but you loved me that way, gotta keep it one hundred as per usual…..
I admired your courage through the battle of stage 4 Nasopharyngeal Cancer.  You fought valiantly and surpassed all the limitations and boundaries they gave you.

Feb 14, 2015



It makes the world go round. It heals, it inspires, it rejuvenates, it motivates, it uplifts.

May love lift you up and carry you through.

Happy Valentines Day

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