By Bo
I want to start by first giving all glory to God and Jesus Christ my Lord and Savior. Just like in the famous poem called “footprints”, in my darkest times it was only one set of footprints and the Lord responded, “it was then that I carried you.” I don’t even know where to begin, but I think it’s important to really tell this story which means I must go back.
I’ll start in 2017. I was going through a rough divorce in progress, not yet all the way in motion but headed to the end. As far as my marriage, (I’ll go to say only my part and leave it at that) I wasn’t a great husband, but I was a great dad. After six years my marriage ended very suddenly and messy. While this was happening, my father had cancer and was dying at this time. My father showed me everything I needed to be a man but I didn’t recognize what his gift was until after he died. R.I.P. daddy
Through the course of my failing marriage, my favorite cousin Mike Fields, who came to live with me in Detroit. He had never agreed to leave Detroit over the past 20 plus years since I’ve lived in California, Vegas and Phoenix, was doing well off but refused to come for one reason or another. Now he wants to come so, to be real, he was going through something and was just leaving. I understand and he is not at fault because I also was going through my situation and had my own agenda.
We got along very well but also always had a difference of opinion. We were just two strong alpha males who always came real no matter what. We always spoke throughout the years about the family and getting things right and stepping up as elders and really making the family a family… you know those kinds of things. Now, my cousin is a high class chef. Since we were kids he would make good dishes from the scraps that we had.
My cousin and I had friction as we always had but I guess that dominant presence was hard as we both stand on anything and back down from nothing mentality. He was three years older than me. He knew me more than I knew myself at times — it was a special bond that we had. He was my cousin by blood but my brother by souls.
Things got to a point where even being in a new state and knowing that he felt it was best to live at the shelter than at my place. Ironically, I ended up there just two weeks later but after one night I ended up back at home with my ex-wife… I can feel the day like it was just yesterday… It was the second time this has happened. The first time was when I was 17 years old in the job corps. I was going to beat somebody up for something. I got there and it was my cousin who I didn’t even know was there. I hadn’t spoken to my cousin in weeks because he’d been gone for a few days then came back to wash clothes, but left home with his clothes still in the dryer so it was tense… even though he never said a word.
That was only out of love because my cousin was a beast by all means, but when I went to the shelter and didn’t see him for two days I assumed he went back to Detroit. When I saw him at night he cut my hair and he had to work the next morning. but he was happy to see me and we went out to drink and play pool the next day like we did back home.
At the end of the journey I ended up leaving the state to go live with my friend and brother from the street and go back towards Chicago.
I talked to my ex-wife later and knew I was going back for my daughter, Kumani, who is my best friend in the world, and my son, Joey, who is named after my brother who died from cancer in 2010 at 32 years old. That’s a chapter (or six) that I won’t get into at the moment. R.I.P. Joey.
My father passed away within that same month and I didn’t even make it to the funeral nor have I been to my mother’s or my brother’s funerals. Weird — I have been to dozens of funerals but not theirs.
It’s important that the whole story be told so sorry it will not be a race, but yet a journey as all of our lives are. Thanks for walking with me upon my journey and on my road to redemption.
All glory be to God. Trust in the steps.