brittany nicole

I’m such a hard worker. I have always been hard on myself when it comes to producing results. I believes this stems from my childhood of me always trying to prove myself worthy of an opportunity. I wanted it to be known that if I ever got anything, it’s because I worked my butt off for it.

My work, I take pretty serious. My name is attached to it and I want to give it my all. So I do just that on most days. I was actually doing pretty good working from home until I received an unexpected call last week…

Last Monday, started off pretty normal for me. I actually got up on time and started what should have been my last week of working from home.

That morning, I had a work call that began at 10am. A little over half-way through, my phone started ringing…

The number wasn’t saved. I noticed it was from Birmingham, Alabama but didn’t think much of it.

So I didn’t answer. I set a mental reminder to call back later.

20 minutes later. My work call ended. I decided to call back.

No answer.

So I went back to work. As normal.

2 hours later, I received another call from another number that wasn’t saved in my phone. This time, the call was from Tuscaloosa, Alabama. I don’t know why, but I decided to answer the phone this time.

(I TYPICALLY DO NOT ANSWER NUMBERS THAT AREN’T SAVED IN MY PHONE)

It was my birth father’s wife whose voice was so shaky when she asked “How was I doing?”

I was doing fine and that’s what I shared with her. I then asked, “How was she doing?”

And she broke down. Crying so hard that it became harder to understand what she was trying to say.

Then I heard her say words that keep playing over and over in my head:

Your father just passed away unexpectedly…

I didn’t have words. I didn’t cry. I think I asked what happened?

She said that she didn’t have all the details but was headed to the hospital and I told her that, “I was so sorry but I would need to call her right back.”

She said that she understood and we hung up the phone.

I needed to gather my thoughts. I needed to call my sister. I needed to get on the road to Birmingham…

Mind you, I’m technically still on the clock.

I called my sister first. I knew exactly what I was going to say and how strong I needed to be for her.

So I face-timed her which has become an everyday thing since COVID-19 because of my niece who is in love with this feature…

Seeing her face, I could tell she was in a really good mood. She was smiling and I started to become overwhelmed with my thoughts because I knew I wasn’t calling to share any good news with her or funny jokes or to annoy her like only big sisters know how to do.

In that moment, I broke down. I couldn’t even get my words out clearly. I put the phone down because I didn’t want her to see me like that. I also didn’t have the answers to any of her questions. I told her if she could just give me a second to gather myself, I’d stop by to explain the little bit of info that I did have.

I mustered up the strength to reach out to 3 more people. One call to my grandmother. One call to my mother. One text to my boss.

Then I just felt numb. So numb and unsure of what to do next.

How do you properly mourn the death of someone who had an inconsistent presence in your life from the beginning?

Do you cry? Do you travel down memory lane to pull out the good? Do you hide behind what you’re feeling because of the guilt that you now feel for not giving them 20 more chances to attempt to get it right? Do you ignore your feelings altogether?

I typically have the answers.

Last Monday, I did not.

This Monday, I still do not.

I didn’t make a “social media” post last week because I’m still trying to find the “right” words.

I wrote this piece because writing is the one thing that helps me get through the up and down phases of life. Writing helps me shift my perspective and see God’s hand in each situation. Writing gives me hope. Writing is my safe place that I’ve created for myself to embrace the more raw and authentic pieces that make me… ME!

And sometimes, I get to share “my story” with you…

The number that I spoke of in the beginning from Birmingham was my father’s new number. (He hardly ever kept the same number) He was calling me from his hospital bed. And I missed the call because of work.

I’ve gone back and forth on if that was me being selfish or if that was God being God. At the time that he called me, he didn’t know that it would be his last time. I wouldn’t have known either even if he would have answered when I called back.

I have accepted the fact that God knew that my relationship with my father was very different from the relationship that my sister had with him.

Had I taken the call, my sister wouldn’t have had the chance to have that same final moment…

I wholeheartedly believe that it would have taken a toll on her mentally to not have been afforded the same opportunity as me.

And now because of how things played out, we’ll be able to have our “final moment” together this week.

May sound odd to some but it’s given me more peace and helped me not to walk in guilt these last couple of days.

Next week, I’ll try to share more about my father and the journey that led to me forgiving him for not being there “consistently”.

Life is short: So Love hard. Forgive harder.

#BNspired2day