When The Care Isn't There

(Then Neither Am I)

My sweet Mama circa 1952

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My mother was born with blonde hair and blue eyes - they eventually turned brown. Her parents both had a “whose white baby is this?” moment when they first saw her. The genes reached way back for that one. Ok fine, not that far back…

Anyway, hey Mom. Happy Mother’s Day. I love you.

Wherever you are, I’m still glad you aren’t here.

I’m ok enough.

Oh, I had my eyes fixed. Can you believe I had advanced cataracts? lmao I could. I’m sure my telomeres are trash from a lifetime of chronic stress. I’ve had glasses for 40+ years and now I can see in the shower? It trips me out every time.

I haven’t talked about it much but, the four surgeries were emotional. I went through the majority of them alone. They didn’t explain the risks. I barely asked questions because I didn’t want to be the “problem Black patient.” Our interactions made me feel worthless. Every visit was rushed.

I tried to be quiet and compliant (the way you taught me) because in a world that hates little Black girls, you thought it would keep me safe - it never has.

It made me think about my childhood. When it came to doctors, you weren’t my advocate. Honestly, you were never my advocate. You handed me over to anyone. I was on my own even when you were there. Back then I didn’t know why. As an adult, it’s painful to acknowledge - no one protected you either. Your Mother handed you over too.

As for my eyes, they want me to come in for a fifth procedure and, ain’t no way in hell. The cataracts are fixed but my vision isn’t clear. It feels like I have in dirty contacts.

With that said, I’m at a point in life where if the “care isn’t there” then neither am I.

Doctors, friendships, partners, spaces…

I deserve care. We deserved care.

I’ll find a kind, attentive surgeon in Mexico to give my tired eyes the gentleness they should have had in the first damn place.

I’m proud that I’m nurturing my needs in the ways you weren’t able to.

And that little one in the picture? I’ll take care of us both.

Love you, Ma.

Your kiddo.