Me with Michelle

It's 3:52pm on Tuesday and I'm in the parking lot at Uraeus's job waiting to take him home. I also have a call scheduled at 4:00 to talk to my friend Michelle Williams. I'm looking forward to this.

I don't know how long I've known Michelle but it's been years and her presence is always a present. We met at The World Stage in Leimert Park in L.A. I think that's where we met. Yes, she's a poet too. She's that and so much more. A wonderful cook, a great listener, an incredible mother. The list goes on.

Me: Hey, boo.

M: Hey. (I hear a smile. She always sounds like she's smiling. I know she's not always, but now I think she is.)

Me: So one of the things I always ask when I'm talking to poets is why poetry?

M: It kept me sane. It kept me through my relationship with my mom, my kid's dad. It...kept me.

Me: Why cooking? Are they on the same level?

M: My great grandmother was a short order cook. Back when black women could only work in white women's kitchens. And she would cook for us too. She would make fish that she just caught.

Me: That she caught?

M: Yes. She and my grandfather would go fishing. She really caught the fish. He was drinking beer.

Her house was like an escape. They lived in Riverside in a big house and we lived in L.A. She would cook hot water cornbread in a cast iron skillet flipping the cornbread with her fingers. (She smiles. I can hear it and see it through the phone). I wanted my kids to know that feeling growing up.

M: That's beautiful. One of the reasons I wanted to talk to you is because in addition to being mothers and poets we connect in a very dark place. Do you mind speaking on that dark place and what it is for you?

M: Not at all. Well I have a friend who has MS and depression and I talked to her and she was like "I tried to kill myself and my husband had to do CPR." She encouraged me to not hold things in.

Me: Do you talk to your children about it?

M: Yes. I've always kept it age appropriate. But I want them to know. They make sure I eat. Oymn kisses me on the forehead and gives me hugs. When they were little I would just say "Mommy's tired."

M: I understand that.

*We go on about it (depression). About looking for signs in our children. About how living with this thing ain't easy. About things I choose not to include here.

Me: So me, I hear the voices in my head. The not good voices. The bad thoughts. You call yours a ringing in your ears. Tell me more about that.

M: I was raised Jehovah's witness so let's start there. I always had dreams and got messages and it was interpreted as demons. After I got pregnant with my son and I didn't repent or act like I had something to be sorry for I was shunned from the religion so my mother stopped speaking to me too. The ringing in my ear is like I'm getting a message.

*Michelle and I were talking on the phone at another time when I had called her. I was feeling really down and I needed someone who I knew understand me to listen to me. She listened. She got me. That's what I needed. After I talked to her she wouldn't let me go until she gave me some information. She said her ears were ringing and that she had to tell me. She offered me a gift of crystals and bath salts and other things. That was the first time she told me about the ringing. She told me that if she didn't do it the ringing wouldn't go away. I understood that. I don't get a ringing but I do get bad thoughts that fucking push me. I have to fight through those thoughts because they are not my friends.

Me: Where is your dad?

M: He's in a halfway house.

Me: Ok. (Because what else could I say?)

M: Yeah. He's serving out his sentence there.

I got to see his people. His mother and auntie. There's a whole set of people who wanted me. My mom and I have always had a difficult relationship and here were all these people who were there. His auntie cried when she saw me. I halfway jokingly call myself a pseudo orphan. Now I know that you adult to the best of your ability. All I do is do the opposite of what my mother did.

Big Mama is great grandmother. Ghani is grandmother. She's a diva and her nails are three inches long.

Me: Ghani's nails are not three inches long!

M: Yes they are!

*We laugh.

M: All the diva things about me, my nails, how I walk...All that comes from Ghani.

*We talk more. Then switch topics.

Me: So where are you on "
'A woman can't raise a man'
 thing?"

M: Well, my thing is I'm actively doing it.

Me: Right!

M: And I think I'm doing a good job.

Me: My thing was, I'm trying to raise a good human being!

M: And he'll be a good man.

Me: Oh, my son's coming out. Can I call you when I get home?

M: Yes, I'll be here with my pajamas on.

*Life happened and I haven't called back yet. I owe her a call. I just wanted to introduce you to her. This amazing woman who lives with this thing I live with. This dark cloud that comes. She understands and I appreciate her.

Love you, Michelle. We'll talk soon.