It’s October! Yay! In 2.5 months Im going to be a maid of honor for the first time ever…yay!
September was a great month. I went to the beautiful Amalfi coast to a wedding , toured Rome, and spent a week in Austria. Exploring Italy was such an awe-inspiring experience- just to think of all these building which were built before the birth of Christ…I have shared a few favorites from the trip.
Poor blog, I have really neglected my writing.
I’ve been pretty busy, but that’s not a good enough excuse. Big things are in the pipeline. So excited I’m starting my German classes this week-woot woot! Excitedly planning my trip to zit sky and Austria in September, and an added trip to Kenya in December, because one of my most favorite people in the world is getting married on December 20th.
While I’ve been away I’m now back on the fitness wagon and enjoying it. I have a goal, and some exciting plans coming soon.
Today I made a serious adult decision, made and offer on our first home;) and I am excited. They say we might be disappointed 😦 but I believe it’s its meant to be our home, so lets see if God thinks the same.
Now off to enjoy this life with my brother, who drove 9 hours to spend the weekend with me. Gotsa love brothers;)
It is in giving that we receive. This week I found out I was selected to receive an award. This award will pay for expenses on my next trip to Rwanda ;)- flight and accommodation- yay! Plus I am going to accept the reward at a ceremony in Las Vegas- they are paying for my flight and accommodation in Vegas.
I can’t even explain how awesome it is to be able to go back to Rwanda and serve in 2014! God surely has been good to me. Here’s to Kibagabaga 2014! Can you tell I am excited?
Dear J, the day mom brought you home from the hospital was one of the best days of my life. You were the most beautiful baby I had ever seen in my short 8 years on this planet. It was the first time I fell in love, and the day you stole my heart, and captured my soul. I knew I would love you unconditionally. I remember just staring at you as a kid and thinking, man! I love this baby.
Years have gone by and you’ve remained a constant- you have the ability to steal my heart in a beat.
I’ve always known you’d grown into a man of integrity. There are days I wondered if our sister and I were cut from the same cloth as you. You, with your “OCD” and cleanliness. You who wrote a list of household rules when you were 11, which included stipulations on how we should discard our feminine products. You, who stayed with me during summers, and cleaned my house like it had never been cleaned before. You, who is so organized, that you make me feel like a slob. But we are cut from the same cloth, only you came out way cleaner, organized and introverted that the women in our family.
When you were in high school, I worried about you, yet deep inside I knew you’d turn out just fine. To become a man, yet you were raised by women. To know your way in this world. I am honored when you confide in me, when you tell me your hopes and dreams. I worry for you, about the things you do, about the life you want, but deep inside I’m sure you will exceed my expectations. Yesterday, as I watched you walk across that stage, and become an American soldier, I prayed to God to give you courage, and wisdom. That he may continue to show up and show out in your life.
May the words of the Soldier’s creed, ” I will never quit” always be on your mind when you set to accomplish something in your life. May you stand tall and remember your roots.
Thanks for being the best brother a girl could wish for, and thanks for always having my back. I love you bro
I just finished reading Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. I have to say this is a book that kept me up at night, a book that spoke to my heart. It was as if Chimamanda was writing on behalf of the African woman in the diaspora. I know this woman’s writing exceeds my expectations, never fails. Here is a piece that I loved
Dear American Non-Black, if an American Black person is telling you about an experience about being black, please do not eagerly bring up examples from your own life. Don’t say “It’s just like when I …” You have suffered. Everyone in the world has suffered. But you have not suffered precisely because you are an American Black. Don’t be quick to find alternative explanations for what happened. Don’t say “Oh, it’s not really race, it’s class. Oh, it’s not race, it’s gender. Oh, it’s not race, it’s the cookie monster.” You see, American Blacks actually don’t WANT it to be race. They would rather not have racist shit happen. So maybe when they say something is about race, it’s maybe because it actually is? Don’t say “I’m color-blind,” because if you are color-blind, then you need to see a doctor and it means that when a black man is shown on TV as a crime suspect in your neighborhood, all you see is a blurry purplish-grayish-creamish figure. Don’t say “We’re tired of talking about race” or “The only race is the human race.” American Blacks, too, are tired of talking about race. They wish they didn’t have to. But shit keeps happening. Don’t preface your response with “One of my best friends is black” because it makes no difference and nobody cares and[…]”
Excerpt From: Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. “Americanah.” Alfred A. Knopf, 2013-05-14. iBooks.
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Please read this book y’all!
Last month I had a huge scare. Earlier in the month I had felt a breast lump in my right breast. I went to my doctor, who sent me to a mammogram and ultrasound.
My beautiful friend Mel went with me to the mammogram and ultrasound. Talk of good friends! They hold your hand even when you pretend not to be scared. My ultrasound showed a lump, and the radiologist said I needed a biopsy so I came back three days later. Well, it was not a fun experience- thanks Mel for taking me and hanging out with me when I had ice stuffed in my bra!
So I got my results three days later and it showed my lump had characteristics of a phyllodes tumor . They recommended an excision, because phyllodes tumor can grow pretty big.
I cried a lot…. And then decided that I wanted one of the surgeons at my job to take a look. She read the pathology report from the other hospital and she said she needed to remove it. We scheduled surgery for may 14th. She also wanted the cancer pathologist to look at it and get a better diagnosis. I prayed about it and made peace with the idea of surgery. Prayer helped with the nervousness.
Fast forward I go to Rwanda and on May 6, I had my pre-operative visit with my surgeon. She had great news- the cancer pathologists didn’t think it was phyllodes- it is a fibroadenoma and doesn’t need to be removed at this time. So for now we are just going to watch it by ultrasound and mammogram every six months. I can’t tell you how excited I was! I just thank God for being there and holding my hand. And for giving me family and friends who always support me.
So the lesson I hope you learn from this is that It is very important to check your breasts because only you know when something is wrong.
I came back from Kigali with renewed perspective, but thanks to the Houston Allergies, I have not been able to blog about my trip as much as I would have liked to.
In a few weeks, I turn 30. I am excited about this new chapter in my life. I am grateful to be able to celebrate becoming 30. Me, a Kenyan girl from a village , born to an 19year old woman, and a 24 year old man. Blessed to have been born months after my mother lost her first child on Sunday August 1, 1982- The day of Kenya’s coup d’état attempt. My sister lived 8 hours, that was it.- my sister didn’t live- I did, and for that I am LUCKY to be here. I live for myself, and my sister Eunice, buried in a pink dress that my grandfather picked out. I wonder what kind of woman my big sister would have become, and I wonder if she had lived, would I be here? Perhaps not, perhaps yes. I will never know. My big sister is an angel in heaven, an angel I will meet one day.I live for both of us. sometimes I think that’s the reason I’m a Gemini – because I’m two in one. So today, I’m grateful for perspective. I’m grateful to have met African women who could have been me. But God wrote me a different life story. And I’m going to make the best of this story.
This Blog post is written in memory of my Big sister, who never lived to tell her story, and in memory of all the little angels who never lived to tell their story. Rest in peace my dear angel. Keep watching over us, your siblings.