Saturday, May 9, 2015

Celebrating My Mom

MOM, I Celebrate You!

I celebrate my mother this mother’s day-weekend, not only this weekend but everyday!  As I am writing, I began to reflect back on what my mother has accomplished and what she had to give up and let go.  I reflect on stories of hardship and struggles and I joyfully reflect on her laughter, her singing and her funny dances when she got all tickled inside, while making her children laugh. My MOM, a daughter, a student, a worker, a mother, a disciplinarian, a teacher, an educator, a learner, an entrepreneur, a warrior, a helper, a giver, a lover, a believer, a supporter, a no-non-sense woman, a lady, one who encourages, a beautiful woman, a Proverbs 31 woman, the first apostle-prophet-evangelist-pastor-teacher God has given my family; and yes, she is a Woman With A Mandate!

A Woman with a Mandate!  She was given a charge, a command, an order, with authority from the Royal Throne Room of Heaven to raise her children, establish her territory, to establish laws and decrees in her household to set order.  Her assignment came from God!  Her anointing came from God!  Her mantle came from God, and YES, her charge came from God!  Her mantle didn't come with all pink and red roses or gold trims with shinny beads attached to it.  No!  In the beginning it may have started out bright and white, unblemished and stained free:  it certainly didn't come with the entire instruction manual on how to raise children sewn in the seams.  The mantle she carries has some wear-n-tear in it, some spots and wrinkles on it and even some tears of joy and sorrow on the cuffs and maybe up the sleeves from the many nights she prayed her family through the storms of life all the while she was trying to start her own business . Her mantle even has blood stains that cascade to the bottom of the hem as she was in the trenches, because of the battle with the enemy, she would not relent.  God would bring her out and clean her off and smile at her because she gave the devil a black eye.

My mother, Priscilla Embry's quiver was full, with 6 children born and raised in Detroit, MI: Tandy, Willie, Clyde and Claudette-Twins (a.k.a. Bonnie and Clyde), Karen and Kevin-Twins (Kevin home with the Lord).  We all laugh when we think about how our friends would come to our home, when we were small children, asking if my mother could come out and play-you see, she was well known and the life of the block! One funny incident I recall was when she was getting in our cases for not putting things up where they belong: and out of her frustration, with her eyes squinting in an angry face, she began to yell at us and said, “How many times I have to tell y’all to put the comb & brush in the refrigerator!”  We all looked at our mother liked, “huh!”  When she realized what she had said, she released the angry face and burst out laughing and so did we.  Well, the scolding was over by then.  We all got on her nerves that day (I’m laughing as I’m sitting here thinking about it and typing).  She made sure my sister and I had whatever doll or doll house we wanted, cookware oven, or roller skates we wanted and the boys had all the army men toys, matchbox cars, basketball, football and whatever fixer-upper—electrical repair kits my brothers asked for.  As a little girl I would run all over the yard and pulled up all the dandelions out of the grass (not knowing they were weeds), put them in a bunch to give to her as flowers. Of course they withered and died quickly because I hid them in the closet the day before to surprise her on Mother’s Day—only to go back out and do it all over again.  She never said a word or complained-no disdain, because she knew my heart; only to say, “Thank you baby” and give me a hug.  Now I give her roses or tulips or a beautiful arrangement of flowers to express my thanks and love!

Her plight wasn't easy though—working two jobs to make ends meet, on welfare (back then it was called A.D.C. Aid for Dependent Children, but the street term was “Absent Daddy Club”) because our father was not around.  She cried tears of joy when we all graduated from high-school and some from college.  She cried tears of indifference when two of my older brothers went away to the military to come back home—then the Government tried to take them away and place them in the Persian Gulf War, but God said, “Not So!” and they didn't go.  She surely thanks God for his protection over us daily; from not being a statistic and succumbing to violence in the streets of Detroit; or from the violence of angry cops!  Surely Heaven and the host of Angels are applauding her for not giving up and throwing in the towel when she had all of us as she went through the cycles of life with each and every child: from the death of one (crib death at two months old), to the warfare and harsh blows of arguments and fights.  Sometimes she liked us and sometime not!  All five of us were no-saint-of-a-child either! We’d argue with her, disagreed with her, slammed doors, leave the home, held a grudge, pointing the finger when we didn't understand or was trying to make our voices be heard and all for what?  And she still would say, “I’m not giving up on y’all”!    One of her children went through Bone Cancer, another domestic violence, another, a heart attack, Viral Bacterial Disease, and food poisoning.  Some dealt with bitterness, un-forgiveness and anger, to say the least.  With a tenacious look on her face clutching her purse as though she had her “gloc” in there, my mother said, “No devil, you can’t have them!”  Oh boy, the challenges mother had faced!

My mom is getting older, all of her children are in our upper to late 40’s the eldest will be 50 this year.   She wears her life’s lines well-the wrinkles on her face are more pronounced along with the gray hairs, yeah, that’s because of the wisdom this matriarch has. She is looking more beautiful than ever, day by day.  I used to get upset because she wasn't moving as fast as she used too; didn't want to accept the fact that she’s getting older, life is continuing its ebb, its flow. I have to say this and see it as an upgrade and not a decline, as the dictionary states.  At times she has a lot of pep in her step and when she’s feeling ill her pep, it gets left!  My mom is still young, 66 as I write.  With more life and more Ideas she has and more love to give to her children.  She’s wearing her crown of life now here on this earth and I’m grateful.  I celebrate you.  I honor you.  I love you.  I cherish you. I thank you!

I dedicate this letter to you, Priscilla Embry, daughter of Willie and Florence Mae Jenkins and truly, Daughter of the Most High God.  Mom, your pulpit was your home and your voice is truly heard with your built in mega phone; yelling out all of your children’s names to arrest us when we go astray, to cheer us on when we are doing well from day to day!  You didn't ask for riches or fame, all you asked God for was to keep us and guide us and that we would love each other.  God has and still is answering your prayers mom.  Your quiver was full and out of us all came grand-children and great-grand children, (I guess this does make you very rich-a couple of 'grands' isn't so bad after all). One is married and the others are not, however, waiting for prayers to be answered and I know that time is coming very soon and we all will rejoice and shout! Mom, your fame is going throughout the Heaven's, more vast than the world could see and your family shall call you blessed, now this is fame at its best! You deserve this Mother’s day Acknowledgement, not only on this day but every day.

On this day, Sunday, May 10, 2015 I Honor you and Celebrate you!  You truly are a Woman With A Mandate!

Love you-Your Daughter,
Claudette Embry


Embrace!

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