It is Women's History Month and I sleep under the same roof as history today. In just four short days, my aunt, Larreace Rollins, will be going home to Maryland to be with her daughter and grandchildren. She spent the last five months with me and my family and made a world of difference in my life while she was fighting for hers. Breast cancer would not tell the story of its triumph, she will. A number of transitions in my life left me to a brand new home with just me in it a

There was so much that didn't make it into the book because once I got my flow I couldn't turn it off; the publisher told me bluntly "you can save all that for your own book." That is absolutely hilarious to me and prayerfully she is calling into existence a more fuller version of how God got me over and through many life experiences. Everybody has a story; some folk might even have a novel or two in them. They might just need something to ignite their passion to tell their s

I remember I intruded on my father as he was preparing to fire up a crack pipe once when he moved back home, living in our basement. I said, “Is there anything that can make you stop doing drugs Papa?” He looked me in my eyes with a cold look and clearly irritated that I was interrupting his flow and said, “No.” What about your wife Papa?” He said, No!” Now with tear rimmed eyes and a trembling voice I asked, “Not even your kids Papa?” He stared at me with eyes bold, glaring

After experiencing a tumultuous year of death from 2015 to 2016, I live a life of "new normal." Things that once gave me joy don't necessarily feel the same because I can't share it with the people I loved and lost. Namely, my best friend of 22 years, Wanda Williams, who God gifted to me as my big sister who went home August 2015 followed by both my grandparents, Maggie and Booker Passmore, who died in October two weeks after one another. Somehow putting pen to paper was cath