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Note: This post first appeared on my old blog, Far AboveRubies, on September 21, 2012. ~Alisha
When I sat in that doctor's office over a year and a half ago, being told I should consider terminating my Zoe because I might have a genetic condition that I may pass on to my daughter, I knew deep in my heart, she was- and is- a gift. I knew that even if some cold, detached doctor did not, could not, would not see her value, she deserved life. And when she was born, a beautiful, squiggly girl of seven pounds and seven ounces and a long twenty inches, the precious gift I was blessed to carry for thirty-eight weeks entered the world, full of curiosity, attentiveness and hunger. Zoe Lyne Hope. Zoe means "life". Abundant life.
Clockwise from top right, Elvis Presley, Bobby Darin, and Flip Wilson. (Google Images)
According to Kevin Cook's "Flip: The Inside Story of TV's First Black Superstar", a biography of comedian Flip Wilson, Flip once found himself holding hands with singers Bobby Darin and Elvis Presley, backstage at the Las Vegas casino, the Sahara. With hands clasped, and heads bowed, Elvis led the men in prayer. It was definitely an interesting moment. But let's backtrack for a moment to set the scene. From the book:
Flip had never played any of the Strip showrooms when he agreed to open for Bobby Darin at the Sahara in 1966. The showroom manager balked at the last minute, as much for Flip's inexperience as for his skin tone. Then Darin, a...
Note: This post was first published on my old blog, Far Above Rubies, on December 31, 2012. ~Li
Princeton University. I did not attend. I did, however, drive by a number of times on my way to the neurologist's office.
I attended and graduated from a state university, and one not in the top tier at that. That is not to say I received a second-rate education. Far from it. I learned so much, in class and even more-so, from occurrences not transcribed on to a syllabus. Reading "Lost in the Meritocracy" by Walter Kirn at The Atlantic, I was heavily reminded of my college days. Sure, he matriculated at Princeton around the time I was just arriving on this Earth, but there are some transcendental experiences with which I could relate:
Zoe is 6!
Happy Sunday! It was quite the week in news- Kermit got fired, R. Kelly may be head of a creepy cult, the Juice is (about to be) loose, and Sean "Spicey" Spicer is out at The White House, disappointing legions of Melissa McCarthy fans (like me).
But in the De Freitas household, the biggest news of the week was Z's sixth birthday. We're thankful, amazed at how fast time has flown, and proud of our not-so-little girl. She's been- and continues to be- a blessing from God.
(Image Source: NJ.com)
I heard the story countless times growing up. My grandmother had warned my grandfather they shouldn't go into Newark that Sunday in July of 1967. Not *that* Sunday. But my Papa, veteran of WWII and the Korean War, was not one to scare easily, and was also equally determined not to miss Sunday services. So off they and their four kids went, ranging in age from 15 to 6. My dad was the 15 year old. He remembered sitting in his ironed suit in the back of the family car, riding in from nearby Linden, where they lived in a neat little pink cape cod, the family's first house after having moved over from packed apartment buildings in Brooklyn two years prior.
They knew pretty quickly upon entering Newark that things...