Sky’s the Limit

To express appreciation for my mother’s writing, who began journaling about me when I was a day old, I acknowledge her words as a milestone of inspiration in my journey. Her words saved me after reading the journal back in 2013. Once thought of as décor, her silver covered journal is now forever symbolic of ‘more life’ to dream…

(Photo: descending over Nahant Beach Reservation – Massachusetts)

June 24, 2018

I’ll always appreciate the imperfection of something that’s assumed incomplete. As humans, we can manifest through continuity at any point—thus eternity until death. First, however, you’ll need to realize we’re all individual creators. And if Curren$y’s rhymes can remind me what all I do this for, then I share my mother’s journal as a tool fueling my fire.

Before reading her journal, I was dreaded in despair out of my prior years silently battling anxiety and depression. With thoughts of no life, no reasons to smile, and doubt, she actually gave me the journal not knowing my mental state of being. I read day one, day two, and day three of the journal. By day seven my smile lit up and I began dreaming my childhood dreams again.

It wasn’t all dreamy like it sounds, but what I read reminded me of the smile I came into this world with. Continuing through the hangover of a past suicidal self, and scared memories, I knew I had a smile beneath my nose to complete.

And she first wrote:

Journal Entry 2, Dec. 21, 1986: “…what a day to bath my little boy Terrell, when he felt really uncomfortable and wiggled in the bathtub, he finally stopped wiggling and cried, and I got him out to dry him and dress him. Then he was in my arms again warm and snug as a rug…”

J. Kent

As I understood it, being a mamma’s boy meant I could be whatever I wanted to be—because my mom said I could. Most days it was information overload because when Judy suggested that I become a doctor or lawyer at the ages of 7 through 11, I rebelled and proceeded with Batman. Knowing doctors and lawyers would serve Bruce Wayne after saving Gotham City, I dreamt of becoming him instead.

Journal Entry 4, February 20, 1987: “…he smiles so much that I believe he’s talking to angels”

– J. Kent

Life was interesting as a child because I remember wondering a lot about the things outside of our well-being; from all perspectives, dimensions, and beyond our universe. I was often looking for a connection through a hierarchy of platforms and networks manifested by the individuals of our past time here on earth. So much that I even read my dad’s World Book Encyclopedia Collection.

Journal Entry 5, February 28, 1987: “My son has a social life of interested children from ages 2 and up…he listens and learns from their unusual behaviors. I usually have to tell my two-year-old [Kimi] to slow down because of his long-lasting attention span…”

J. Kent

I found out early in life that this connection, is the abundance of life we take for granted. The ‘attention span’ my mother describes me having when my sister Kimi would be helping me with something, amuses me as she proceeds to write about the choice of information I retain.

The idea of an abundance in life was nothing more than my abilities to grasp onto certain pieces of information that got me closer to understanding the connection I was looking for.

Journal Entry 6, March 7, 1987: “My precious boy has learned to hold on really tight to one finger. He loves this when he’s sucking his thumb or just trying to get attention….He brings me the joy and delight of something wonderful and all because God made it that way”

J. Kent

I figured that if my father could spend 38 plus years of marriage with my mother, then maybe I would look for a girl like Judy to court. But I eventually found out that I was nothing like my father, because his confusion of my sexuality led me to believe we aren’t alike.

To marry a woman like my mother, means I’d consciously be following my father. And considering my mother always told me I could be anything I wanted to be, I had to do whatever necessary in my benefit to live up to whatever I was becoming.

Journal Entry 8, April 1987: “By now Terrell is noticing things and playing with objects…. he loves to laugh but gets discouraged easy….”

J. Kent

I was definitely a moody kid and I never knew how to control my moods. I figured this was something I got from my father but that wasn’t the case. My mother understands and recognizes discouragement in anyone. Even in my teenage years when I lost structure, I’d get so down in hope because I frequently failed to see the bigger picture. However, back then, I was only in hopes that I wasn’t a failure in the bigger picture—which welcomed my anxiety.

Journal Entry 10, April 1987: “In the morning bright and early, I hear Terrell talking and laughing.”

– J. Kent

I never thought the words above would play in sync with the visual I once had of waking up to a beautiful woman of mine. My mother wrote this as if she envisioned a perfect life for me. Although that woman may not be with me forever, it was a preview of the love she knows I’ll share with someone.

as mornings are to a day, birth is to life.

– Judy’s boi’ (that’s me this time)

The foundation of ‘more life’ lies in the understanding that everyday is a new day to cease.

Journal Entry 12, May 1987: “…but I know he is curious and loves to explore”

J. Kent

Deep down, I’m still the little boy whose mom let ride his bike to the airport in the summer of 1995. Although the idea came to me in 1994 when I was seven and riding to Grandma’ Joe’s house, most days I didn’t make it passed the 42nd avenue overpass because I was afraid of heights. On the days I successfully crossed the overpass, rode on through Columbia Blvd, passing the military base, and onto 82nd ave to view the planes land at PDX, I envisioned something a lot more to follow in my journey of life.

As airports became the gateway to dreams, watching each airplane descend from the skies, the experience was symbolic of freedom. When I say I’m still the little boy who rode his bike to the airport to watch airplanes land, the only difference today, I have a few extra buc’s to get much further than runway 28 L. And it’s still the same sun shining on me today as it was the day I was born.

Recognizing my journey comes to full fruition with every affirming accomplishment, I want the world to see the story I manifested—because if you’ve read this far, you’re now my affirmation.

Journal Entry 15, June 1987: “He is a gentle loving boy with a lot of smiles for everyone…”

J. Kent

I dreamt a dream that was in the wildest of my mother’s. But I’m successful because she told me to be whatever I wanted to be. The human mind is so complex, not even our conscious fundamentals are understood on the most basic governing levels. What you’re reading is nothing more than a plan once thought of through inspiration, exploration, courage and wit, sought out through beliefs of abundance taking us further than the sky.

Thanks to my dear mama’ for making an incomplete smile, complete again.


8 thoughts on “Sky’s the Limit

  1. Amazing lifetime and blessings that we live through and learn, great work Terrell, and lots of love to you and your future, mom and families


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