“You did it.”
And faded away.
I laid in bed very aware of myself within the physical space I was in and my spacial distance in time. I felt the major difference between who I am now, who I was three days ago and who I was a year ago.
I took a deep breath as I realized that it has been almost a year since I whispered to Azra to get his shoes, phone and jacket as I did the same and we ran out of the house, jumped in my (ex) husband’s car and sped away…
A week away from a year since I took the shot…
…since Azra was doing back flips in a motel room bed screaming “I’M HAPPY!”
I sat up in bed with the plush pillows providing support for my back and soul. I nestled into the pillows and wiped the tears from my eyes.
“I did it,” I heard myself say. I pulled my knees to my chest, dropped my head and cried.
I cried hard- so hard that my body shook.
Wrapping my arms around my legs, I held myself and welcomed the cry.
These were not tears of agonizing fear, bondage and despair but of joy, victory and triumph.
The ceiling fan in the living room shed a soft light into the room. I looked around and marveled at the beauty surrounding me. Resting my head on my knees, I stared at the jetted bathtub six steps away from me.
I smiled as I thought of how giddy and childish I felt when, on our first night here, I turned on the jets and warm water foamed up around me. I squealed at the top of my lungs which caused Azra to bound out of “his” room, though the living room and into “my” room. He look around wildly while trying to catch his breath. He saw my head above the foam, squinted his eyes in disbelief and said, “OH MY GOD! Mom are you serious right now,” in that fatherly tone I’ve come to love. He dropped his head, shook it from side to side and walked out of the room.
I took a moment to admire the immaculate double vanity sink.
Every part of this room was perfect but more pronounced than its perfection was the familiarity of its ambiance. It felt like home- just like our room at Motel 6.
I felt safe, secure, and whole.
I held myself tighter and whispered:
“This is right. This is how I am supposed to feel- how I’m supposed to live.”
On Saturday morning, December 3, I had just returned to our room at Motel 6. I had gone across the street to get coffee. As soon as I closed the door behind me, my phone rang. I cringed as I waited for the screen to display the call.
-This phone had been continually harassing me by dropping calls, refusing to answer calls, not ringing and, what I feared was about to happen this time, not displaying the call at all-
I held my breath and stared at the ringing black screen.
On the fourth ring, the screen lit up. I got a little happy but not too happy because I still had to answer it. I tapped the green accept ‘button’ and held my breath, again.
“Hello?”, I hesitantly said.
“Well, hello. I’m surprised you answered,” the pleasant voice of Ms. J responded.
“ME, TOO!”, I blurted out before a hearty laugh over took me. “You know how this phone acts up,” I continued.
We both laughed.
-Ms. J is one of my closest friends. She rescued Azra and I when we ran from Tennessee. She got us the motel room and a flight back to California. She went above and beyond possibility to make sure we were safe and took care of us the best she could.-
“I have something for you. That is if you’ll accept it ,” she said with serious a twist in her pleasantness.
“What you got for me J,” I said in an inquisitively goofy tone.
“I am gifting you and Azra a stay at my timeshare in Las Vegas from the 18th — 21st. Your other son and his wife can come too but they have to get their own transportation…”
I almost dropped my coffee!
“Gurl YOU DOIN’ WUT!”
- My older children used to make a point of bringing it my attention when I “got ghetto real quick”. This was one of those moments.-
Ms. J continued, “Well, on Thanksgiving you said you and your family stopped celebrating holidays. I want you and Azra to do something for Christmas- well not actually on Christmas but for Christmas. Will you go?!”
“YES!” I gushed. “Oh my God, I’m going to a resort???”
I could feel her love for me as she softly replied, “Yes.”
We got off the phone so she could finish making the reservation and travel arrangements.
I carefully set my coffee down and haphazardly tossed my phone at the bedside table. I winced when it thudded- thinking, “that’s probably why it won’t answer your calls”.
I jumped on the bed and shook Azra until he woke up.
“Azie! Azie wake up! BOI WAKE UP!”
He slowly opened his eyes. I kept shaking him and started speaking as fast as Eminem can rap:
“Guess what guess what oh my God oh my God we’re going to a resort Azie a resort in LAS VEGAS Ms. J is sending us TO — A — RESORT — IN — LAS — VEGAS!”
Azra looked at me as if I had lost my mind. He rubbed his eyes and stared at me while I was trying to catch my breath.
“Ma, are you serious right now,” fatherly tone in full effect.
“YES BOI! I’M SERIOUS WE’RE GOING TO LAS VEGAS!” I screamed.
He shot out from under the covers with a quickness and started jumping in the bed.
“What the hell,” I thought and started jumping with him!
Today, December 21st., is our last day here physically but spiritually and emotionally it feel like I will never leave… Like this place is within me.
I got out of bed and slowly walked through the apartment. The warmth of the fireplace hugged me as I stood in the doorway of Azra’s room. He was snoring softly. I smiled when I realized that he was under the covers. It signified to me that he felt the same way I did.
-Azra will only get under the covers of a bed if he feels safe. Any other time he will wrap a blanket around himself and lay on top of the covers.-
Not this time.
He was snuggled deep under the covers- only the tops of his dreads were showing.
I sat down on the couch in front of the fireplace and heard the angel's soft voice again:
“You have done it. You have crossed over and possessed your land… WELCOME HOME.”
There is peace in my soul now.
I remember the days, years, when it felt like the pain would never end and that the darkness would never fade. There were times when I felt like Lot… When I heard his wife asking me:
“Why don’t you just curse God and die?”
Sometimes I responded:
“I have but Death won’t let me die!”
I know why now: I had to get here.
I had to get to Westgate.
It’s symbolic…
please bear with me a bit longer…
Staring into the fireplace, I heard:
“God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes and then shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.” Revelations 21:4
I am writing this on 12/21
The number 12 is often associated with the concept of completion or wholeness.
Furthermore, from the moment Ms. J told me the name of the resort, Westgate, I felt there was a deep meaning in the name- specifically West:
A year ago, I fled from Tennessee and came West.
The Israelites fled from Egyptian bondage and traveled West to Canaan- their Promised Land.
For me, a gifted stay at the Westgate Resort at this specific time is the symbolic physical representation of my spiritual move out of the bondage of my former self into my Promised Land- my true, authentic self.
I have spent the last two years, writing and sharing my experiences with the hope of encouraging others to not give up on themselves and their aspirations. I have experienced situations that many women do not recover from.
I have recovered.
I have overcome.
I went through a whole lot of hell and a whole lot of high water but I made it through!
My message for you, dear friend, is that you can too!
Keep believing and keep moving forward until you reach your Westgate!
<<Westgate I: The Visitation<<
©2022, Asha Carraway
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