Tag Archives: love

My brother’s keeper 

I am my brother’s keeperA broad term we’ve made much deeper/

Times like this bring about rage/

But I will always be here to help you turn that page/

It’s okay to miss that angel of love/

But be happy that hero is soaring above/

If you need my shoulder can carry tears/

My ears can bear your fears/

You are allowed any emotion whether shallow or deeper/

I’ll defend that right, because I’m my brother’s keeper

-Poetic Ice

Much love to my brother and his family!

Growing Pains Pt.2: the Eternal Morning

For all those who actually read my blog when I update it I’m sorry for not posting this all at once. I really can’t write it all down without being over come with emotion and mentally shutting down. I do this to grow and honor the man who stood before me so I will push beyond it and finish, thank you!!!

Continues from the previous post:

After having an amazing dinner after an amazing graduation ceremony my father and I parted ways after exchanging the words “I Love You” to each other. As every day goes by I value this memory more and more because it’s the last thing I ever heard my father say. 

My wife and I stayed up a little while longer watching movies and editing footage of the graduation then hit the sack pretty hard.

BANG BANG BANG!!!

At first I was too deep in my dream to realize it was my cousin, Doug, beating on the door.

It came again,

BANG BANG BANG!!!

My wife and I woke with a sense of urgency and rushed for the door. By the time I got there he was down the hall already. He came rushing back at my call and my heart began to race. My cousin is a man who when dealing with me has always had a cool head, even tone unless I piss him off. He is my big brother basically and always protected me. But in this moment for the first time in life I saw that he didn’t have the strength to do so. His voice cracked as he spoke to me. With each break in his voice I had to swallow back fear and anxiety.

“Uncle Roy had a seizure, so auntie called me to help get him up. He wasn’t coming out of it so we called the paramedics. GET DOWNSTAIRS ITS NOT LOOKING GOOD!” He said with fearful urgency. I turned and finish getting dressed and my wife and I followed him downstairs. 

All I remember from this point was my heart was gripped with anxiety and I knew it was early in the morning, the sun hadn’t risen yet. My family was pacing about downstairs and paramedics were in my parents room. I was ushered in to find my mom on the bed shaking with worry. My sister pacing but not going too far and saying “C’mon Daddy” to try and bring him out of the seizure state. The last thing threw me into a state of shock and/or awareness.

Everything around me began to bleed together except for the image of the paramedics trying their hardest via CPR to recesitate my father as he lay on the floor of the bathroom, lifeless. That’s such a jarring thing to see especially when your mind works the way mine does. I’ve earned my degree in biology, and been working in Veterinary medicine for over 5 years so I’ve picked up on a few things. So now in this moment I’m picking up on words such as cardiac arrest, no pulse detected, epinephrine isn’t working… and so on and so forth. It only got worse when I see my sister and mother holding on to a hope of him shaking this off. The moment I saw my dad there on the ground I locked eyes with him and forced myself to stand by his side and fight back tears. 

The first responders worked tirelessly for over 30 minutes trying their best to bring my dad back. They never stopped with their chest compressions the entire time. I never moved from that spot. My cousin Doug tried to get me to move away from the situation and I refused. My wife kept checking up on me, but I wouldn’t let her take me away. I barely blinked as I stared at them working. I stood firm as I fought back the urge to scream and cry out for him. I fought back the urge to jump in and perform chest compressions myself. I just didn’t move at all. This moment became an eternal morning, a hell in and of itself as my entire family suffered in hopes of hearing my father laugh about this later.

Hope… a funny thing really. Sometimes hope in the face of education and realization is nothing but a harmful ideal. It was for me in that moment. I knew my dad wasn’t getting up. I knew that the chest compressions would have worked by now if they were going to. I knew that they pulled some fluid out of his air way but I don’t know how much. I knew I was not going to leave him on that floor alone, and I knew my daddy was gone. Even with all that I knew, I still hoped. I hoped I was wrong. I hoped he would get up and we’d take him home. I hoped that eventually we’d build another grill together. I hoped we have more arm wrestling competitions and make more mix cds. I hoped he would one day see my first child if I was ever that lucky to have one. I hoped… I hurt… I still hurt…

The head paramedic finally after a long battle decided it was a loss. He was pissed off, spouting “I knew this wasn’t a damn seizure!” He was angry with the world at his defeat. He took off his gloves and looked at his watch then called out the time of death and I went blank to the world around me. I didn’t see anyone else but my lifeless dad on the cold bathroom floor. I wanted to go to him but he paramedics told me I wasn’t allowed to touch him until the coroner came. Simultaneously it was announced to my mother and sister that he was gone from this world and I became aware of my mom on the bed when she cried out. My mother and sister are strong people, the strongest of women, so I rarely see them cry. But seeing their tears that day felt like someone running my heart through over and over again as I choke on my blood. I couldn’t do anything for them, I wanted nothing more than to comfort them. But I couldn’t move. I wouldn’t move from my dad’s side. I wasn’t allowed to touch him. It I was going to be near him.

After waiting another eternity for the coroner to get there he performed his exam of my dad and gave us his cause of death in his opinion. It was a heart attack he deduced until further investigation. After he was done I finally spoke again, asking him, damn near weakly begging him to be able to take my dad’s watch off of him. My dad always wore this watch, it was Many, MANY years old. I needed to take it and keep it. To me it was like keeping him with me. Another piece of my hero that I could preserve. A watch I wanted protected more than life itself. After transportation came they readied him for transport and rolled him out on a stretcher. One of the hardest things I’d ever watched was to see them carry him down that hall and through the doors. Watching my sister cry as she was held by my brother-in-law is another pain in my heart I’ll never forget.

At this point none of us are really talking, and I’m sure my family really thought I was a heartless asshole at this moment because I didn’t cry. In fact I wouldn’t cry, I blatantly refused to cry because I felt I needed to be strong for my mother and sister. I willed my self into a perfectly stoic wall and tried to be there for everyone. So, I’m sorry to my family who reads this for that moment if you thought I was heartless, I was just trying to be strong. The key word is trying. My wife, my rock, could see that I didn’t need to try right now and got me back to our room once things were somewhat settled.

She tried to comfort me, talk to me and get me to talk back. She knows I will bottle things up until it sickens me. So I got to talking about my last conversation with my dad and that stoic wall broke. I just remember feeling immensely weak, like my soul would leave my flesh if it wasn’t for my wife holding me as I crumbled to pieces. Tears left my eyes with such ferocity as if offended that I held them back. I cried, I yelled, I felt utterly helpless and like an abandoned child. I just didn’t know how to process this event, this loss. My wife just held me, crying as hard as I was. My dad was a dad to her too, they bonded immediately and this crushed her, but because of me she held it all back because she wanted to be strong for me. I love her more than I can ever quantify for the admirable strength she has. I don’t remember much more from this moment on, I’m sure I cried myself to sleep in my wife’s arms. But there was no rest to be had…
To be continued 

Growing Pains pt. 1

 

It’s been a while since I wrote anything. It’s been hard to pick up a pen and create when such a huge part of my life was was destroyed…. Destroyed is such a strong word, but its fitting with how I feel on the inside. If you are close to me, work with me, or simply know me you know that on May 7th, 2017 my family and I lost my father, LeRoy Hemingway. That weekend was one that took me on an ultimate High, and then an ultimate low. I had the honor of watching my nephew graduate and get his second post high school degree. That kid fills me with pride.

After taking him out for his graduation dinner I had the honor of taking my mom and dad back to the hotel in Rock Hill, South Carolina. Once we got mom settled in, my dad wanted me to take him to the local gas station so he could pick up his “winning” lottery ticket and a few snacks for him and my mom just in case they needed it throughout the night. Without hesitation my dad and I jumped into the car and turned up the music. We critique the modern music and appreciate the melodies of the past as we travel less than half a mile to the nearest gas station.

My father has a routine when it comes to out of town gas stations,  he usually looks st the hats that they are selling, if they are selling them. Anyone who knows him knew that he wore a cap all day everyday when he could. He would get his snacks, plain chips, Pepsi, and a bag of salted peanuts to put in the Pepsi. Lastly, he would play his numbers and get a lottery ticket or two. Playing the state lottery seemed to fill him with excitement. My dad didn’t miss an opportunity to possibly win millions of dollars. Sadly, he never did but he did more often than not get his ticket money back. It was all in good fun and a hobby of his through the years. At this point in life with me leaving the nest and moving to another state it was a nostalgia trip whenever I got the chance to do it. Something I’m going to miss more than anyone will ever know. 

When we got back to the hotel I walked him to his room and told my mom and dad goodnight and that I would see them in the morning. They said the same, and I gave my mom a hug, and kiss telling her that I loved her. Dad walked me to the door and I told him that I loved him, and he said “I love you too.” Before closing the door. These two gestures are forever burned into my eyes and memory.

I’m lucky enough to have this, and I’m grateful, but the gesture of closing the door still hurts, I’ll explain why. The words “I love you too” are the last words I ever heard my dad say. That was our final day and conversation. I’m blessed with that, that’s more than others for a chance for. Closing the door took on the meaning of closing the chapter on our journey together. I was shut out, and he was taken from me. I know I have a writers mind and I create scenarios, but this wasn’t fictional. This was what it actually felt like hours later after I replayed the memory in my head. This is what it felt like after the coroner left us there a wounded family not knowing what to do…

To be continued next post.

Trying to deal…


Sometimes when I close my eyes, I see
Amid the darkness I’m reminded

The images won’t let me be

I’ve yet to find the strength to bind it

Some days I’m stuck in an infinite loop

Being reminded of my helplessness 

It’s depressing enough to make me join a group/

But would that help my mental fitness?

I just stood there that day.

Internally screaming 

I fought hard to keep tears at bay 

Internally reaching

How do I completely move ahead

Part of me is still there

Part of me is dead

Now I’m emotionally volatile, is that fair?

Venom 


Pick up that needle girl, grab your ink
I need you girl, more than you think

Tattoo my heart girl, but go through my vein

Put your venom in me and ease my pain

Just give it all to me

I’ll take it all for free

Blur my vision girl, let your venom take the reigns

Control my soul girl, without you I’m insane

You fuel my soul girl that much is true

That’s why I’m dying for another taste of you

Just give it all to me

I’ll take it all for free

Please baby your poison is my power

I need another hit every hour

Tattoo my heart baby and ease my pain

Control my soul with your ink in my veins
-Poetic Ice

The Chamberlyn Chronicles is for sale!!!

the-candy-shop-2

After much formatting and debate, The Chamberlyn Chronicles: The Candy Shop, is for sale and download on Amazon!!!

It’s Free through Kindle Unlimited and only $2.99 to purchase otherwise. There will soon come a countdown deal where I’m giving it away for free for a while so make sure to check out amazon and get you copy!!! Thanks for all the support! Below will be a link to the amazon page that you can go to and a summary of the novel!!!

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N3VEDB6

The Candy Shop is an urban drama set in the fictional city of Chamberlyn, New York. Jordan Jones is a young black woman who is the object of many a man’s fantasy is working hard to finish college during the day and as a stripper at night for The Candy Shop Strip Club to provide for her three year old son, Grey. With very few friends to rely on and a basically nonexistent family she’s become skeptical of the world, and very cut off. She wears sarcasm and a bad attitude like body armor as she deals with the criticisms of the world. The father of her child is a successful lawyer who is more underhanded than he seems to the public, and he’ll stop at nothing to achieve his goals. But a messed up family and a demented baby daddy are the least of her problems as a new sinister figure moves into town to take over the seedy underbelly and sets his sights on her. Sex, drugs, and danger leave very little room for love, but even love finds Jordan Jones in Chamberlyn, New York. Welcome to The Chamberlyn Chronicles