Today I went to play basketball with some old friends I haven't seen in a while, it was a blast though. The group of people we played with, were great, they just wanted to play ball. The games were competitive, and fun. They wasn't any complaining or fighting which seems to be the norm in most gym's.
I of course was the biggest person on the court, and they all let it be known. But, it was all in fun. There was a lot of smiles and laughyer. I did, however, feel tired out there and I work out enough where I shouldn't. And lately I been noticing at the gym that it seems that I'm not getting in better shape no matter how hard I work. And that I have these days when I feel so tired, and there's almost nothing I can do to keep from falling asleep. But, I don't want to let that stop me. Cause, I don't know when I won't be able to play any more.

When I first began this....

<p>When I first began this blog, I did not intend to share it with anyone. It was meant to help me understand&amp;#160; plus deal with a drastic life changing event, and to help me cope with it. So, in the beginning I began to write really personal things, and then, I began feeling... I have to be comfortable with it all, "this is my life," I thought to myself. The constant doctor visits, blood draws, MRI's, the pain, and uncomfortability. My daily routine of medication, and changing of my diet, and workout habits. Many of these changes, however, made me feel better about myself, and gave me clarity of the mind, being that its no longer clouded with the junk that I was putting in my body. So I decided to share with the world. The good and the bad. Now, I'm not going to lie, I was fearful of the response. I was putting myself out there, with no reservations. <br>
So, initially the attention I got was great. So many people responded and gave me such great feedback, and I began to want to have more and more people to continue to read it, and effect them in the same way. All that attention went to my head, and I got ahead of myself, and beside myself. So much so, that I put pressure on myself to continue to write post that command that type of response, and to keep the readers interested.&#160; I began to struggle with what to say, and at the same time I had all these feeling swelling up in my, that I thought were not attractive enough, but I needed to get out. But then I realize that not many people really did not care, and I was writting for no one, cause no one was listening. So I need to write for myself. Write what I feel, what I'm struggling with, and what I'm going through.
I am reminded, of something I read about taking advantage of the time you have, not to leave anything to waste. You never know how much time you have in this world, it could all end tomorrow. So, how do you want to be remembered? And what do you want to be remembered for?

Thinking about my pops

First, allow me to say that I know that what I'm about to say may not be well received, and I truly understand that. I would hate to offend anyone, and would like those reading this to understand, that these are my feelings and personal experiences and these things shaped me as the person I hope you all love.
One day, while driving through the city with my cousin sitting in the passenger seat. As we passed a grave yard, he turns to me and ask, "Yo cuzz, do you think they ever run out of room?" I pondered the question for a few seconds, and then responded, " I don't know!". The question made me think of my loved ones who passed away and how it seems that they've become the forgotten over time. Then we began to talk about what it would be like when we die, would anyone care, would they come to the funeral, and how long until we're forgotten. Then the conversation some how changed to the subject of my father and his passing.
Now, I hate to sound cliche-ish, But like most black men I know, I grew up without a father in my life. Life was hard without a father, but I had a small group of friend who share in my lack of there of, and we banded together, and watched over eachother. But, no matter how hard we acted and pretend we didn't need a father it still affected us. I could remember all the other kids fathers hanging around their football and basketball practices, teaching them how to through a football or shoot a basketball. Sitting in the stands at their games cheering on the sons during the games. A feeling unfamiliar to me, but I often thought about how it felt.
I still remember the night we left my father , when moms bounced on old man, in the middle of the night, my mother waking me and we grabbing whatever we can carry and getting into a car and leaving. At the time I had no idea of what really was happening. And as an adult, I know that, my mom was escaping, I was somewhere around 4 yrs old. I'm not saying I didn't know who he was, I knew him, from when I was a really young child, and I can still remember some of those days. I could remember such things as the incredible record collection my father had, sitting in the passenger seat of his Cadillac and listening to "double dutch bus" on 8track with my dad, and which is still one of my favorite songs ever. So even though, I was raised without a father, I still have really good memories of him. As, I got older, I seen less and less of him, until it was almost not at all, but I did see him at my grandma's funeral, then he came to my high school graduation, and he also came to watch me play basketball in college. I was always aware of the struggles mother had to deal with raising two kids without my father around, and not only admired her for that, I looked up too her.  She tried to do some of the things I wanted him there for, and tried hard to teach me to be a man. I think she did a wonderful job. And inspite of all that, she never taught me to hate my father, and if I said anything negative about him she was quick to correct that. I always cherished the things my father told me and the memories I had from my father, I do admit that from time to time, I did become very angery with him for not being there, and from the time when he told me that I was to old to have a relationship with me. I was crushed, devastated. Then not to long ago, my father passed away, he actually was shot protecting a friend. And my family explaining to me that that was how he was, a trait I often find within myself. The unfortunate thing was, that, that side of my family and I were not in contact with eachother, so they had no way tell my mom, sister, and I about that. so when we heard it was weeks later, and when we went to visit the grave site, my family could not aford a grave stone, so we were taking to a general area and told that he was burried somewhere around here! a hard thing to hear, and emotional event to go through. My mother took it especially hard. I could remember thinking that I was really alone, I didn't have a father before and now, I really don't have a father. Then, for those who know, and for those who don't, came my sudden diagnosis of Acromegaly, and my surgery to remove a tumor. And with this came alot of changes to my world. I think about my life now, being that I have acromegaly, and the undeniable effects it has on my life and the uncertainty, I would like to share that with my father, and then there's the thought of my demise and how that would be. if I would, like him, be allowed to lay in a field without a marker so that my loved ones could not find me.
Just a thought.....