Mother/Father

I loved my parents. My mother was this fireball of energy that could light up a room with her smile. I’ve watched her light up a room – it was something else. Yoslyn could walk in and everyone’s eyes would be on her. She had a smile that would knock people down. I don’t think she ever understood how dynamic she was. And when she got sick, she settled for whatever she got, instead of what she really deserved. My dad, oh my God my dad! I never have met someone as charismatic as Thomas Burrus. He was everyone’s friend because he was easy to be around. He had his demons, but they didn’t matter when he had a beer and a front porch – it was all relaxation and all cool. When I was little, all I wanted to be was my mother. And as I got older, my father was my best friend. Neither of them got to meet my daughter. It’s a shame.


People on my mom’s side of the family think that I am a representation of “f*cked-up parenting.” That’s all good, though. My parents had mixed up priorities, sure. But d@mmit, I loved them. I am my mother and my father’s child. I received good and bad personality traits from my parents, and that’s all good. I have my father’s easy speech and my mom’s way with people. I’m insecure like her and stubborn like him. And you know what? That’s all good.

For a long time, I wanted to raise my daughter the opposite of the way my parents raised me – no transient parenting or the rest of that jazz. But you know what? In spite of my parent’s problems I believe in my heart that they still loved me the best that they could. It’s taken me a long time to come to that realization. I’ve had my shortcomings, but I made it. I don’t have a record, I’ve got a decent job, and I have a good marriage. That’s saying something. I hug my daughter every day and I celebrate my life with my husband. She sees me… and even with my flaws, she loves me. That’s all I can ever wish from her. “F*cked-up parenting?” I don’t buy that. Maybe a rose-colored perception, but everyone and everything can change. I would be who I am any day over being someone with no sense of independence. Someone with no sense of self dignity. I would be me everyday rather than someone who has to look down at other people in order to make themselves feel important. I’d give a lifetime of nothing special for a day of unbelievable. That was my parent’s way. That was what they instilled in me. And for that, I thank them both.

I wish they would have gotten to see their grandchild. I think they both would have gotten a kick out of that. I go to my mother’s grave and talk to her sometimes. When I feel lost, saying things out loud to her makes me feel like she’s really listening. I didn’t understand my mother until I became an adult. I didn’t understand my father until I became an adult either. The difference is that when I finally understood who she was, she was already gone. With my dad, he was still here and could listen, and try to understand me. If there is anything that I treasure about the memory of my father, it’s that.

So, in May I’ll don my sundress and rock my wide brimmed hat… and walk into Churchill Downs like I was never a stranger. Richard, Akaiylyn and I are going to DO the Derby like it’s never been done before. I’ll hold my baby cousins and take some shots with my Uncle Doc, the last connection I have to the Burrus brothers. Damon, Danielle, Antwan, Kim and I will reunite with loving memories of one another, and a reinvented love that has lasted for years and years. I look forward to that.

Look out for me May 5th, Louisville. I’m on my way with a renewed spirit and great memories. See you then.

-Blessings