My Name is Sage

name feb 24

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 Why does the world interpret rainy days as bad ones? I guess because they seem to interrupt your life negatively in some way. You’re late to your destination, you get your cute outfit drenched and worst of all, sistas, you get a little moisture on your new do. We may dread rainy days, but without them, sunny days would be indifferent and nothing to look forward to.

 I stared out the window blurry eyed from the tears that continuously flowed from them. I glanced in the side view mirror just in time to see the emergency room sign fade in the distance.

Grandma Joseph was driving and unusually silent, trying to think up something to say that would ease my unbearable pain. What could she say? No words would feel the emptiness in my womb or in my soul.

“You know, your mother had a miscarriage,” Grandma Joseph spoke.

I twisted my face not wanting to hear that right now. Even though I had forgiven my mother for the heartache I was still cautious about being anything like her.

“Sage, I know you don’t want to hear this.”

“So don’t say it,” I snapped than regretted my tone soon after.

Grandma Joseph silence disturbed me and I refused to look at her. I wasn’t sure if in a few seconds I would feel her hand hit the back of my head or would she just ignore me, knowing that it was pain speaking and not my heart.

She ignored my outburst and said. “You can learn from this. Wasn’t time for you to have a baby. God knew what he was doing when He rejected it.”

No matter how much of a burden Grandma Joseph saw that baby as, I wanted it. I wanted my baby more than she or anybody else would ever know. Why couldn’t things ever go my way? Why did everything always have to be taken away?



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