Where Were You?

Where Were You?

Where were you when our child was conceived?

Where were you when our child was born? With the umbilical cord wrapped around the neck.

Where were you on our child’s first doctor visit?

Where were you when our child was in the emergency room? All night long.

Where were you when our child lost the first tooth?

Where were you during the doctor visits, the scraped knees,

the tears, the whining and the joy?

Where were you on the birthdays and the  holidays?

Where were you through sicknesses and health issues?

Where were you when our child came home covered in feces

from an accident on the bus?

Where were you when our child was diagnosed “Learning Disabled?

Where were you during the IEP conferences?

Where were you when our child graduated from elementary, high school,

and Computer School?

Where were you when our child began classes at University of Maryland?

Where were you when our child began dating and needed guidance?

Where were you?   I think you were hiding like a child, avoiding responsibilty,

with your head, stuck, where the sun don’t shine.

Me? I was busy, being the mother and the father.

So don’t come at me now that the child is grown,

wondering why the child don’t know you. Just look

in the mirror and ask yourself, “Where were you?”

by Joan Farley Nyobe

Posted in Children, Family, Love | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

Coming Face to Face with My Mortality

On December 21, 2011, my dad was discovered at 1 pm, in and out of consciousness, laying in his backyard. He was rushed by ambulance to the hospital, where it was determined that he had a stroke.  The circumstances surrounding his stroke are very sad however, he has made great improvement.  My dad was born and grew up in Tifton, Georgia. His mother gave  birth to two boys. She gave my father away to her mother to raise and kept the lighter skinned child. My dad’s childhood was short because he had to feed and clothe himself at a young age. He dropped out of high school at the age of 17.  As soon as he did, he is drafted in the US Army, where he served a tour of duty. He met my mom on a blind date and they hit it off. (Or so it seemed) They married in 1958 and had three children. One girl,(me) and two boys,( my brothers). My oldest brother died from cardiac arrhythmia, triggered by acute renal failure. He was mentally retarded and what I learned from him is immeasurable. I learned compassion for man kind and I learned to understand the differences in people. I can go on and on, but this blog is about my dad.

My dad took a liking to less fortunate females early on as my childhood could remember. My issue is not with the less fortunate per say  My issue is with the bottom feeder mentality that never ceases with them. Always scheming and always taking. Every opportunity is seen as a opportunity to yank somebody’s chain to get what they want, which is immediate gratification. My father was fixated on them.  He would pick up single mothers with kids and take them to the store and help them. He was also, sexually attracted to women my age. Another problem with this was that he did not show that same love and compassion at home. With his wife and children, he was aloof, and socially inept.  Not really a dad. He kept himself occupied with auto repair, TV repair, electrical, plumbing and auto body repair. And, he worked at the Pentagon in Arlington, Virginia for over 35 years in the maintenance services area. He was also an alcoholic.  The deeper he got into assisting the less fortunate, the less he did for his children. He was emotionally unavailable to us. He would only spend $28.00 dollars at the grocery store (When it was his turn to feed us) and that was supposed to feed a family of 5 ( Two cousins were living with us too). In 1983,  my mother  had enough and moved away from him.  I went with her.  When he retired and had nothing to do, his friendships with the  less fortunate took a turn for the worse. His friends were  alcoholics, crack heads, criminals, and prostitutes. All of whom received all of his time and attention. He was available to us only when we needed something fixed, and as long as it didn’t require money. My memories of him is  images of cars, grease, tools, car parts, TV parts, and lots of books and magazines. He lived like a bachelor, even though he had a wife and three children. (One child with special needs).

My dad laid in his cold and wet backyard for some 12 hours, suffering from a stroke. The first girl that found him,(So I thought), her name is Doreen or Dorian. She stole some juice from him and that set things in motion. He followed her out in the yard, yelling and screaming about the juice, and passed out. She was with him outside in the backyard at 2 am on the night of December 21, 2012. She left him in the yard, laying on the wet ground, temperatures went down to the low 30s. And it had rained two straight days, prior. His next door neighbor, saw him laying on the ground, thought he was drunk and ignored him. It was not until another crack user female, Dee Dee heard him making sounds as she walked by, (So I thought), discovered him in the yard, and called the ambulance. That was at 2 pm, the next afternoon. So he laid in the yard, in and out of consciousness, for 12 hours until someone with an ounce of compassion, called the ambulance.  Then, my dad’s crack user girlfriend, Rhonda, came and she became fixated on my dad’s wallet. She tried to get it before  he got on the ambulance but was unsuccessful. Her fake step dad aka (Boyfriend) rode in the ambulance with my dad and got his keys that had fallen. She tried to get his wallet again at the hospital but by then, hospital rules kicked in…Only a family member could receive his property.

I made it to the hospital emergency room and saw my dad. Another female from the street was in the room with him (She seemed genuinely concerned for my dad.( And she told me how much he has done for her.) She was feeding him, banana pudding. He could talk but he was rambling and his left hand and arm shook uncontrollably.  The nurse told me he had suffered a stroke and there was some bleeding from the brain and another CAT scan would be done to see if there were any improvements. She told me when he was brought in, his body temperature was real low, down to 90 degrees. And she said he could not move his left side. But now, there was movement on the left side.  The nurse showed me the bag where his clothes were and told me he was wet when he came in and he had urinated on himself repeatedly. I retrieved his wallet from the bag and his cell phone. (I said to myself as I looked at his bag of clothes)  “The rest is headed to the nearest trash can.”

His girlfriend and fake step dad made arrangements to bring the keys to my mother. They made it and dropped off the keys and my mother gave the fake stepfather $20 for bringing the keys to her.  Me and my brother went over to check out the house and quickly learned that the keys, did not fit any of the doors, inside or outside of the house and his car keys were not on the ring either.  A locksmith was quickly called and they changed the top and bottom locks on the main door, which was the back door to my dad’s section of the house. A quick assessment and video taping showed that my dad’s living condition was far worse that any episode of “Hoarders” I have ever seen. However, nothing appeared to be missing. And we needed to go back and make a thorough assessment of what was taken, if anything. Making matters worse, we’d have to go through piles on top of piles of junk and clothes before an inventory could be completed.

The first update on my father is very good. He made it through two and a half months of rehabilitation. He was able to walk with a cane and is on a lot of medicine. When he was released from rehab. He had to come home with us, rather than return to our childhood home. He turned the basement into a hoarders paradise. Food, junk and clothes, were piled high and everywhere, throughout the basement, backyard, and a room, off from the kitchen. The state came, at one point and cleaned up the backyard, due to complaints. But he had it messed up, again.

As I looked at my dad, he was making jokes and talking crap. It was funny, but I couldn’t laugh. What caught my attention was him. I looked at him really good and I saw myself. I look just like him and his mother. In that alone, I knew what I would look like when I get old, God willing.  I walked in his foot steps, for a season,  with the people in the streets. I hung out and embraced those bottom feeder people too, while getting high on drugs. They knew I didn’t belong and they robbed me and used me to no end. I woke up from that experience (Thank You, Lord) and now, the only way I step into the hood is to serve court papers or take statements in an ongoing investigation. I got my creative side from him and my entrepreneur spirit from him. I don’t have one trade, I have a cluster of trades like he did.  And its the cluster of trades that keep my phone ringing with new and repeat business.

The second update here is also good. I took him to a medical doctor, as a follow up to his rehabilitation release. The medical doctor drew his blood and then told us, there’s nothing more he could do for my father. And then, referred my father to a medical doctor, who also treats geriatric patients.  I found out that the doctor who referred us, also sees this doctor, personally. I felt pretty good about that. The new doctor, was given all medical records from the hospital and rehabilitation facility. He said he’s concerned my father may have blockage in his arteries. I noted to the doctor, that his blood pressure is elevated, whenever he walks. The doctor told me that because of the type of stroke he had (Aneurysm), and he wanted his blood pressure to stay elevated around 140-150/80. I think I said that right. He also referred my father to a cardiologist, for further analysis.

My dad, meanwhile, was pulling all the tricks out of the box, trying to get back over to my childhood home, which is his home. He don’t realize the magnitude of his sickness. He wants to get back to the female drug users and help them with their lives and get sexual favors from. If we let him go now, he’d be dead in 30 days or less.  He’s on anti-seizure medication, which means, he can no longer drive a motor vehicle. He wears a diaper and walks with a walker. He looks like a frail old man, trying to cling to what’s left of his life span. I get it. He wants his independence back.  And that would have been possible, if he had gone to the doctor, for routine checkups, earlier on. He is 78 years old. He will be 79, in June. He has infection in his body, that’s reoccurring. He stays on a different course of antibiotics, constantly. It’s very sad and I feel so sorry for him. I wish I could make it all go away. One trip to his home, he managed to sneak and left money in the yard for his girl friend, Rhonda. (Had I seen it, she would’ve gotten zero.)

My love of animals came from Dad. My pigeon toes came from his mom.  My kind heart came from both my mom and dad. My business mind came from my mother. I don’t age hard like my father. I age like my mom. I’m 51 but don’t look it. My mom is from Washington DC and my dad is from Tifton, Georgia. So I have a healthy mix of the city and of the country. I used to enjoy walking barefoot with my poodles, walking right with me. As I looked at my dad, I faced my own mortality. I realize too,that I may lose him through all of this.  I love my dad. I’m not ready to lose him. I am ready to break the ties he have with the street people. If one more street woman come to me, praising my dad for all that he has done for them, I think I will throw up. Because he was robbed and taken advantage of much worse than me. One left him on the wet ground to die in his own backyard, covered in urine.

I have power of attorney papers in place for my dad to have my mom take charge of his affairs. And those people in the streets that he seemed to enjoy so much, will be expunged from his life. If I can help it, he will never see those people again. My dad is wealthy and did not have to live that way. But now, he will live as he should. Loved and cared for, in his own element.

I know this blog seems like I harbored a lot of resentments, regarding my dad. And you’re right. I was holding anger inside for the way we were treated. He gave the streets more time and attention than his wife and kids. However, life is too short to hold on to resentments. I forgive my dad for all his shortcomings. Having my parents under the same roof again, is a blessing of its own. We are not getting any younger. I have made peace with all of that. I forgive my father and just accept him for who he is.  I love my family. Flaws and all.

The third update here is not good. The clogged arteries came back to haunt my dad. They found 90% blockage in his neck and blockage in his heart. He was sent to University of Maryland Hospital after Prince Georges Hospital could not put a stint in his artery. They said his arteries were almost like dried spaghetti, before its cooked. University of Maryland did a bypass procedure on his heart but was unable  to address the blockage in his neck. They sent him back to a rehabilitation facility, however, his health went into rapid decline. He lost over 40 lbs, he developed a swallow dysfunction, acid reflux dysfunction, a mild case of dementia, hearing loss and his speech is limited. He refused a feeding tube and had to have I.V. fluids often as he can’t drink, because of the swallow dysfunction.

The doctors again said there is nothing more that can be done for him. So hospice care brought him home, so he can live his final moments at home.  We are waiting for the ambulance to bring him because he has lost all muscle functionality. He has to be transported via stretcher. I reached out to a clergy, who came out to talk to my dad. My dad never went to church, read a bible, or had any time getting to know Yah. She came out and spent time talking to us first before going into see daddy. When she went in, he first told her he was not interested. she went in two more times and on the third time, I heard him yell out, “I don’t know God.” She asked him if he wanted to talk to anyone, and of all people, he chose me. I went in and he broke down in tears and told me he was sorry. He asked if I would forgive him. I said, “Yes, I forgive you and I love you too.” And I hugged him.  The clergy asked him if he loved me and he shook his head yes. That conversation melted years of confusion and resentment built up inside of me. Daddy lived with us for two weeks and then he died on May 3, 2013, which was on my birthday.  It was a sad day, indeed. I watched the funeral home wrap his body to take out for finality. I helped hold his face while a scarf was tied around his head and chin, because his mouth was stuck in an open position. I led the family in prayer before they took dad out for the last time and I must say, Yahusha held me together and kept me from falling apart. He was cremated as he requested and we had a private ceremony for him. His urn is at home with us, along with his flag and pictures.

Final update is not good. I learned the Doreen or Dorian and Dee Dee were there the night my dad had the stroke. There was no fight over juice. They were trying to rob my dad and knocked him off the ladder onto the ground, where he suffered the stroke. They left him on the ground and Dee Dee returned to the scene of the crime to find out he was still laying there, in the middle of a stroke. She called the ambulance and then played the role of a hero. What she and Doreen or Dorian did was set in motion, a chain of events, that my dad eventually succumbed to. From December 21, 2011 until May 3, 2013, my dad struggled, unsuccessfully, to get his life back. Yah bless both of those women, because what goes around will always come around. I forgive them for their deeds. I hate the sin, not the sinner. Amen,

by Joan Farley

Posted in Family | Tagged , , , , , | 5 Comments

About Me

I have a renewed heart as I have paid my dues in this life.  I have been molested as a child, virginity taken in date rape, sexually assaulted as an adult, sexually harassed and have not had a successful relationship to date.  Through the abuse of drugs (Pharmacological and Street drugs) , self loathing and self destruction,  three nervous breakdowns and four suicide attempts. I was crazy with pain and turmoil. It was not until I got down on my knees and begged YAH, crying for Him to take control of my life,  and clear up the madness that had consumed me, that He came and changed my life for the better.  Age 49 was a turning point for me. It’s where I took all the negative energy and turned it into positive energy.  My heart is finally unburdened and I feel free. Free to write and hopefully help others who’s soul is in turmoil.  YAH is good and I give all the praise to Him who created me.

I can’t fully explain the changes that YAH made  in me but I’m different now. I feel everything, spiritually. My heart is filled with enough love, to love the whole world.  All the pain and resentments from my past are gone. I have forgiven all the perpetrators of my past. And, I pray that everyone could feel this uplifting of their soul, as I have been so blessed.  YAH gave me a clean heart. And, He gave me a pure heart to help those who want to be helped.  Being angry and resentful is no longer apart of my equation.

Because of the changes in my persona, I no longer tolerate drama on any level.  I laugh and make a joyful noise. Many misinterpret my glee for silliness and immaturity but I assure you, I am not silly or immature. My heart is just done with the bull crap. I don’t waste time being angry. I don’t waste time mulling over things I can’t change. I feel my first 49 years were squandered (However, I feel those squandered years were necessary to get here, where I am now) and I want to take the rest of my years and enjoy life, qualitatively. I want people around me that share this same philosophy. Life is for the living. Living in Yahuah is living!

My mom is 73 and my dad died at age 79. I  gave my dad his attention while he was alive. And I help my mom all I can with her needs, while she is alive.  My children are all grown up and my oldest son has moved out to start his own life. I want to be present to experience their joys and woes. I am very protective of them and do not want them exposed to unnecessary rifts from outside influences.  But, they have to learn and grow.  I am easy going. I work hard and I play hard. I don’t bother anyone and I don’t want anyone to bother me. My mother promised me that my children would never go through what I went through and she kept that promise. My children have not been sexually molested or had their socialization tainted. For that, I am always grateful to my mother.

A potential life mate for me is one who share in my renewed spirit. He has to be intelligent and insightful. He has to be loving and warm.   He has to have YAH in his heart and life has to mean something to him.  If this man does not exist, I am prepared to live a life of singleness that’s free of fornication. I embrace celibacy, wholeheartedly. If I see any traces of mental issues or mental obstacles whatsoever, I’m running. Because I have no room for that anymore. I’m not jumping through any hoops or listening to any carnival music in dealing with anyone. If you have issues or drama, keep it moving. And please miss me with all of that.  I trust YAHUAH to bring me that future mate, if it’s for me and according to YAH’s will. I am going to enjoy my life and the time that I have left.  YAH gave me a gift of writing and with that, I write to keep my soul cleansed.  I don’t know what direction my writing will go in but I will allow YAH to direct that path as well.

I continue to pray that YAH’s Will take shape in my life as I grow in my faith. Elohim’s love is real and if you want great changes in your life, sincere prayer and a humbled heart are required.  YAH is there and He is waiting for you to come to Him. Many are called but few are chosen.

by Joan Farley Nyobe

Posted in Life, Love, Relationship, Spiritual | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

He Said I May Be The One For Him (Part Two)

Anticipation grew as the countdown began. Within days, this man I have loved, since my

son was three months old, in my womb, would be here. We talked everyday or texted

each other, in the days leading up to his arrival. It was like no time had passed

between us. I forgave him a long time ago. We are both older now and more mature.

We have both been through the hard knocks in life. Even on our separate journeys,

our lives took on a similar nature. He never married or had anymore children.

I had one more child and had no successful relationship with any other man.

He was haughty and self serving in his youth. He seems more sensitive and

caring. He has empathy in his heart now. It’s comfortable talking with him.

I just feel safe with him. I feel like I belong with him. And, We fit like a hand

and glove. He feeds my mental and my physical. And now, he can also feed

my spiritual needs too. He’s my “Big Poppa.”  When I picked him up at the airport,

we couldn’t embrace. Traffic at Ronald Reagan National airport is crazy.

Worse than your neighborhood zoo. As we drove to the hotel,

I kept feeling like I was riding with my son. It’s crazy how much alike

they look.  And that look, stopped us from being really romantic with each other.

We had sex a little and but it was not fulfilling. We left the motel early and went

home where my family was waiting. Our time with Kenneth was wonderful

and filled with laughter and fun. Even though our son shunned us and

treated us like we were the enemy camp, majority of the time.

Kenneth had bible study with me, my daughter, and my mother, twice.

And a third bible study was with my daughter and me. He made studying

the word fun. He pulled the most exciting of stories from the scripture and

elaborated on the spiritual aspects of it. It was wonderful. He cooked

breakfast and dinner for us. He also helped with chores in the yard.

He embraced my whole family and said “We’re family.” He  playfully

adopted my daughter and son as his own and had their love in return.

He gave my mom a lot of time because she is 71. He even embraced my brother,

who was going through depression. He cried, real tears, and said he hadn’t

seen a man broken in spirit like that in a long time. We didn’t get much

me and him time, (He didn’t feel right having stolen moments in my

mom’s house. He said he and I will have a better time when I come to

Florida).  When we went to the motel, before coming to the house,

his mind was on his son. He wanted to see him. When my son came home,

he stood in the foyer, shocked. They embraced each other and then he sat

on the sofa and kept this stone face the whole time until his father told him

to go to bed. I laughed at him but my heart and his father’s heart, were broken

into pieces. At one point, his father was going to leave early, but the airline would

have charged $170 more for him to leave early. So he stayed and embraced us with

love, respect, consideration, and warmth. He’s a great guy. I had great taste, when I

chose him, all those years ago. Kenneth left on November 27th at 6pm.

And, I finally let him know how I feel, though it was through unconventional means.

He ignored all the letters I wrote him in the past and he says

he don’t remember about the letters. He said he never knew how I felt.

He said, “I didn’t know you had feelings for me.” He said he never knew how

I felt about him. Yeah right! How could he not have known?

Was he that far up his own behind  that he couldn’t see the clearing in the

forest? He regrets never raising his child. He always wanted another, so he

could raise it. Seems like God didn’t allow it because he turned his back on his son,

even though he sent child support. Karma seemed to have paid us both a visit

because our son gave us both the cold shoulder. In fact, our son completely

treated all of us, Grandma included, with disdain.  Kenneth thought we were enjoying

a great relationship with his son, all these years. We showed him that his son has

been a piece of work, his whole life. I’m not angry at my son because that’s my son’s issue

and his alone. I was there for him when he needed me. I did my part as a single mom.

When my son needs me, I’ll be there for him.  As long as I get respect from him…cool!

I won’t tolerate his behavior. And, I told my son that Karma will pay him a visit soon.

I didn’t want to share my feelings with his father,completely, because he’s wishy washy,

still.  He told me about the women in his life and they were blowing up his phone while

he was here. He said,”They want to be Mrs. Michael s and I don’t have those feelings for them.”

I don’t  care.  All I know is that I don’t want that. I don’t need that drama at my stage in life.

I am passed that point. I want to appreciate the second leg of my lifespan with a partner

I can grow old with. Someone who is on a spiritual walk, like I am. God unburdened my heart

when He freed me from addiction to drugs and men. I am on an good path now.

Kenneth can and will tramples hearts like an ice crusher.

But, it was wonderful having him here. He is running from his true calling as a minister

and its eating him alive. He drinks excessively which I think will change once he accepts his

calling. I found that we are so much alike its scary. We like the same foods, the

same music, the same everything, and we converse and connect, so easily…

we’re soulmates but he has to discover that on his own because he is the man. I

love him so much, I am willing to wait because love is patient.

He and I both filled the house with laughter and love throughout the

Thanksgiving holiday. It was awesome, having him here.

I sent him a text and told him I love him and that I will

always love him. I told him I trust him and I respect him.

He said he feels the same way. And I left it there because I’m scared

that he will trample my heart the way he did years ago. I know he has

changed for the better. He’s not the same haughty man so full of himself.

He’s warm and sensitive now. I won’t romanticize everything because

there are things about him that I don’t care for like his thoughts being

trapped “inside” the box. but I am waiting and hoping he grow out of it when

he stops running from his true calling. Our plane tickets have been purchased

for me, my daughter and my youngest son. Joshua will just miss out on the

wonderful opportunity to bond with his father. Stay tuned for part three of this saga.

by Joan Farley Nyobe

Posted in Family, Love, Relationship, Spiritual | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

It’s More Than Love

It’s more than love, I can feel it.

It’s more than sex, for it’s beyond the physical.

Our relationship has taken on a spiritual realm.

He takes care of my mental, my physical and my spiritual needs.

I respect this man and I trust him, completely.

I would submit myself, entirely and revolve totally around him.

I know its him…he’s The One. I can feel it.

He nurtures my soul…he completes me.

He’s a gentle giant, capable of greatness in God’s eyes.

As soon as he wants me and he needs me…I will be there.

Because,  it’s more than love…with him.

by Joan Farley Nyobe

Posted in Love, Relationship | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

He Said I May Be The One For Him (Part One)

It was late one evening towards the end of November. The night was cold and Winter was 
making itself known. The news predicted a wind chill factor of -10 celcius. I was driving to 
a study session planned with a friend from class. And at 7:30pm, we were meeting at Walter 
Reed Hospital in Washington, DC. Caren, a bright, 21 year old female, was the only person 
I felt comfortable with in the short period we had known one another. Our friendship had
taken off from the onset. She too, wanted to become an attorney and had all the intellectual 
qualities to be a good attorney. However, she was diagnosed with Manic Depressive Illness.
And because she always have these episodic moments, the American Bar Association may never 
admit her. But I enjoyed her company anyway.

As I drove into the circle of Walter Reed's NCO club, my eyes became engorged beyond my 
wildest expectations. I was instantly captivated by a military speciman possessing superior 
masculine qualities from the exterior. He was 6'4" tall, with dark features and light 
complexioned black male. And to complete this perfect picture, he was standing in front of 
his Porsche 911 Targa. Call me a material girl but his car had a whale tail and I went 
crazy. I was driving my Porsche 944 and felt ot was in the stars. I belonged with this guy and I 
had to have him. I was so caught up in the moment, I forgot what Caren looked like. I had to 
wait for her to recognize me instead. While waiting for that to happen, I wanted to get this 
man's attention. I had a killer body and thought I would try my hand. It was night time, so 
I left the headlights on and got out of the car, with no coat on, in 32 degree, freezing 
temps, walked around the car, only to find out that it didn't work. He didn't look over. I 
had not gained his attention. It was too cold, so I hurried and got back in the car, where 
the heat was blasting. I looked over at him only to see him drive away and pass right by me. 
He neither blew his horn or gave any acknowledgement like other Porsche owners do. And, I 
distinctly smelled an aroma of pure arrogance in the air that followed as he drove by.
Moments later, I drove off too. Obviously, Caren didn't recognize me either. While driving 
home, I felt vulnerable and I ached all inside for a man I could call my own. I was weary 
from dead end relationships. My last boyfriend was a Vietnam Veteran who didn't have a clue 
that the war was over. Everyone was looked at like a Vietnamese "Gook." He always had his 
guard up and did not want a commitment. We spent 2 and a half years together and it was 
definitely a dead end. The smartest move I ever made was leaving that guy alone. Anyway, I 
had to find out who this mystery military man was. And, I hoped like hell he didn't belong 
to anyone else. There was now a new guy in my life. without a proper introduction. 
When Caren and I saw each other again, we chewed each other out for not recognizing each 
other beforehand. So, after class, I bluntly asked who was the military guy that has me so 
captivated. "Who is he?", I pondered quietly. My entire being needs to know him. I was so 
infatuated and I absolutely had to know him. So, I asked, "Caren, I saw this guy and I know 
you gotta know whi he is." She said, "Who girl?" I then blurted the details, tall, light 
skinned, high top fade, and everything else I want in a man. She said, "You gotta be talking 
about Kenneth. I said, "Whatever, who is he and how do I get to meet him?" I don't know 
girl. He came in from Germany and I don't know that much about him but I do see him around 
the base. I said, "Cool", and let my wheels of thought churn away. In my mind, I was going 
to know this man.
When I saw caren again, I gave her a seductive photo of me and on the back it read, "If your 
interested, give me a call." I gave her instructions to give it to kenneth as soon as she 
saw him. She called the next night and said, "I gave him the picture. he didn't say 
anything. But he did get the picture." I said OK and felt a little disappointed. I thought 
he would've jumped at the chance. I'm not saying I was all of that but I looked good enough 
for him. Oh well, as I gave up on him quickly, thinking he did not want me like I wanted 
him. Well, two days went by and on the second night, the phone rings and a male voice says, 
"Hello, uh, I have this picture..." And away we went. We me. He came to my home in complete 
Army uniform. I thought to myself, "What a fine specimen of male proprietary origin. This 
dude was fine."

He was in college too so we were intellectual with each other, listened to jazz and drank 
Lowenbrau beer. It was a wonderful first meeting. I walked him to the door when our first 
meeting was over and he kissed me at the door. His tongue envaded my mouth and his lips were 
so sweet. I closed the door behind him and watched as he pulled off. "Was I dreaming?" I 
didn't care. I was elated and immediately called my girl. "Caren, you'll mever guess who 
just left?" "I can't guess girl. Who?" I said, "Kenneth." And we both laughed as I went over 
every detail with her. I told her, "He's mine." I fell asleep knowing that he and I would 
see each other again really soon.
The next time he came over, he was wearing shorts and it was 20 degrees outside. Didn't 
matter to me. He was fine as hell. We went down stairs, listened to jazz and made our way to 
my bedroom. And as he laid his body on top of mine, I softly asked, "Will you repect me in 
the morning?" We laughed and he said, "You're crazy." And we fell in to a deep sensual 
elongated kiss and I whispered, "Don't hurt me, as I melted in his arms. We made beautiful 
love that transcended all others. He was so gentle and caring, warm and affectionate. I 
wanted this man to be so much more than a casual inference. I wanted him to be my husband. 
We continued to see each other, going to clubs, eating out and doing things that couples do.
He would call me and we'd talk for hours. He would read me scriptures or poetry. He would 
say things like, "You could be the one for me." I was over the moon with glee. Then all of a 
sudden, I missed a period. Started having morning sickness and didn't know how to tell 
Kenneth. I was in love with him but didn't tell him that either. 
I think I was afraid of his stature. He was 6'4" tall and I was 5'2" tall at the time. With 
his military training, he was somewaht authoritative in a laid back atmosphere. Like, he had 
strong views about things. He had already been married once before and OK. Chickens clucking 
in the background. I was just plain scared to tell him. So, the last night we were together, 
I got up to leave in the middle of the night, instead of waiting for day break. He looked up 
when I got up and said, "You leaving?" I said, "As quiet as its kept." I knew then that I 
wouldn't see him again. And he wouldn't know about the baby. That way, he can leave me 
before knowing about the baby, to turn around and leave us. 
I had battle scars to prove that theory. My first child's father left me while I was 
pregnant and wound up marrying that person and never formally broke up with me. One day he 
was my man and the next day, poof, he was gone. So I took the least painful route. This guy 
was so handsome and well spoken, I figured he would leave me anyway. I just beat him to the 
punch. So, I didn't call him anymore and he did not call me either. I settled into handling 
my pregnancy alone. I told friends that Kenneth was fighting in the war overseas. I think 
Star Wars was going on at the time. I asked Caren if she seen kenneth but she said she had 
not seen him in a while. Then, I got worried that he had indeed left the area. I even 
enlisted the help of The Army Locator to assist in finding my man, because I may need him.
My pregnancy was going along fine. I had some type of pregnancy related sickness everyday 
but it didn't stop my flow. I continued to go to school until I couldn't go anymore. Towards 
the end of the pregnancy, I had a glitch that tried to wreak havoc on my unborn child. I 
went to a wake with a friend who's boyfriend's mother died. At the wake, she and he 
boyfriend got in a fight. As we were walking back to her car, I just wanted to get me and my 
daughter back home safely. She got in the car and unlocked the door for me and my daughter. 
Before we could get in the car, her man jumped in my place, closed the door and started 
beating up my friend. He snatched her purse and took money out of it and then jumped out of 
the car. Me and my daughter got in and as we were leaving, her man rammed the back of her 
car with his car. We screamed and just wanted out of this. By the time I got home, I was 
spotting and thought my baby was harmed. Docs checked me out and said everything was OK and 
for me to just rest.
While resting, the Army locater letter came and I found out that Kenneth had never left the 
area. He was right here in town and just didn't bother to call and check on me. I felt we 
were really over then. But knew he needed to know about his baby. Too scared to call him, I 
let Caren tell him the news. I still didn't hear from him. My baby was gone but I had a 
piece of him that would be with me forever. The baby was born with the umbilical cord 
wrapped around his little neck but he was healthy. The doctor gently un loosened the cord 
from his neck and spanked his bottom. He let out a loud cry. He was cleaned off and placed 
in my arms. A beautiful baby boy, I named, Joshua.
Two months into new motherhood, Joshua's father comes to the door. He had a friend with him 
and I guess that friend would co sign whether or not the child was Kenneth's. I went to get 
the baby and brought him out and placed him in Kenneth's arms. His friend said, "You can't 
deny it man." But that was not enough for Kenneth. He wanted a paternity test. We did that 
too and the test came back 99.9% his. He is Joshua's father. Kenneth kicked in as dad, 
immediately. He provided money, diapers and milk. But, he found it increasingly difficult to 
live here in this area. The Washington Metropolitan Area was too expensive for him. He 
decided to leave and return to Florida, his home towm. Right before he left, so I thought, I 
slid a letter under his door, professing my love for him. I don't think he got it though. If 
he did get it, it didn't make a difference because he left.
All through the years that followed, Kenneth stayed in touch. He always wanted to know what 
his son was doing and how I was. , and asked me to marry him and I said yes. But the military idea 
didn't pan out and his life went into another direction.He even thought about going back in the 
military at one pointI resigned myself to the fact that I would never have him as my own and
old him, "I'm pregnant." He said, "Wow, congratulations." I said thank you. I went from relationship 
to relationship and never found a man that compared to Kenneth. I was in relationships but something
was always missing. Not enough affection, not enough intellect and not enough money. I craved a man 
with a backbone. A man I could count on. Someone I would not be afraid to leave him for. I wanted to 
feel safe, like I did when I was with Kenneth.
Twenty two years later, Kenneth and I are talking on the phone like we normally do and out 
the blue, he wants me to search flights coming from Florida to Reagan National Airport here 
in DC. I found the cheapest flight and he gave me his credit card information and I 
completed the purchase. He then gave me specific instructions. He said, "Come to the airport 
alone and wear s dress." He then asked, "Are we going to kiss at the airport?" I said yes. 
He then asked, "Are you going to give me some loving when I come?" I said, "Of Course." I 
can never say no to him because I feel like he has complete control of me and I feel safe 
with him so, yes, I will make love with hin. He said, "How will that happen if I am staying 
there with you guys?" We are going to a hotel, straight off the plane. Then, he'll come home 
with me and stay a week. He said, "OK. Now, when I go back to Florida, I expect you to come 
down to see me." I said OK and will make the arrangements while he is here and pay for my 
trip. He said, "Pay you way down here and I'll pay your flight back." Sounds like a plan to 
me. I've never been to Florida. You see, he and I never had closure. Our story is open ended.
then he comes here, I will take care of him properly because he is my King. And I still want 
him to be my husband. Stay tuned for part two because this story is true and ongoing.
by Joan Farley Nyobe
Posted in Children, Love, Relationship | Leave a comment

Who was being tested… Me or Her?

I conducted a secret shop at a bank in Arlington, Virginia. Took about 30 minutes to get there with traffic. Traffic was actually pretty good. That is until I got to Columbia Pike. There was a little construction going on and cars had to merge to the right. A cab driver put his right signal on and indicated that he wanted to get in front of me. Not! Cab drivers are notorious for jumping in front of cars, then coming to a complete stop to pick up a passenger. They wreak havoc for cars on the road and I wasn’t having any of that. So I inched forward so he couldn’t get it. The next two cars behind me did the same thing. Will that teach the cab driver a lesson? I doubt it, but it felt good blocking him. So, I made it to the bank and conducted the shop. The representative I spoke with was very polite and professional. When it was time to leave, I noticed a little old lady standing in the lobby. She was asking people for a ride. When she saw me as I was leaving, she said, “Are you going down Columbia Pike and could you give me a ride, just two miles down the street in Pentagon City?” To myself, I said, “What’s the harm?” The lady was 4’9″ tall, petite, with a hump in her back. She was a white woman with her silver hair neatly tucked in a bun. What could she do to me? So, I said OK and proceeded to take her down the street. We went outside the bank and it had started to rain again. I pointed to my car at the parking meter but she didn’t want to get wet. OK.

She said she was going to ask someone in the bank if they had an umbrella and suggested I pull my car around. I said OK. The rain was really coming down and I remembered I had to photograph the exterior of the bank. So I quickly took pictures of the bank and ran back to the car. I started it and pulled into the lot and made my way to the front entrance. She came out and opened the door. I asked her, “Are you able to open and close the door?” It was an innocent question. She looked frail and weak. She looked at me and retorted, “Are you able to open and close the door?” I said yes and she said, “Well, so am I.” She took offense to my question and I apologized. She said she has feelings too. I felt bad for asking.

So, we make it out of the lot and at the traffic light, the rain really started to come down. She said, “You have to put your wiper blades on and you need to have it on high because the rain can completely cover the windshield and you won’t be able to see.” I put the blades on high. Then she said, “And what’s this fan blowing, it’s too hot. It’s irritating. I need air.” I turned the heat off and opened a window for her. She started messing with the window switch and I put the window lock on. I opened her window and she started playing with the button saying, “I’m trying to roll the window up.” I rolled it up to her and she said, “Thank you.” She even said, “I should have got in the back seat.” It was clear that she was irritated.

Then, she said, “My name is Karen.” I said, “My name is Joan.” But that didn’t change the strange vibe I felt with this woman. Driving a little ways up the street, and she says, “You may want to get in your right lane, there’s construction up ahead. I can see it from my side.” The implication here was that I should have seen the construction ahead but there was an SUV ahead of me. That’s why I couldn’t see like she did. But I kept quiet. Then she told me to make a right and there would be another right but there is no sign. So I made the right and at the second right, as she said, there was no sign. Soon we were at her stop. She asked that I give her a minute to get out. I waited patiently, she got out and said, “Thank you.” I told her to enjoy her weekend. She said OK and that ride was finished. I was able to breathe easy because for the last 20 minutes, this person I didn’t know, had complete control over the ride.   And, I had regressed completely to that of a small child and allowed this stranger to dominate the ride.  The burning question in my mind was: “Who was being testing; Me or Her?”

Written by Joan Farley

Posted in Life, Spiritual | Tagged , , , | 3 Comments