Why Say Good Morning?

Why Say Good Morning?

The name of this blog series is entitled: “The Point of  it All”. Every morning Exavier Pope broadcasts a series of messages on Twitter, Facebook, and LinkedIn. This blog series is why the messages are sent and the deeper meanings behind them. Part II in the series: "Why I LOVE YOU" appears here. Part III in the series: Why You Should Expect the Very Best TODAY" appears here. Please allow it to uplift, inspire, and bless you. Thanks for reading.

Every morning I awake to a new day. Each day is unique in and of itself, presenting new and exciting opportunities to discover what life has for me on this journey of the human existence on planet Earth. It is a marvelous sight to behold.

We take life functions far too much for granted. My heart pumped blood and my lungs drew air in and out of my body countless times while I slept, yet I was completely unaware but trusting of those functions to continue unimpeded. Life is a blessing.

I grew up on the South Side of Chicago in the home of a spry older woman named Emma Lily Mitchell. She stood at 4’10”, slender yet shapely, with the lightest of ballerina steps in an upright gait displaying elegance, confidence, and assuredness of wherever she walked.

She spoke with a mastery of modern American King’s English with a slight Georgia drawl, part sass, and country club swag. She was a pants suit champion. I only saw her wear dresses for Sunday morning church service, when she adorned herself with the white dress, gloves, and hat uniform of President of the Mother’s Board.

Her hair was December white and forever in a neat hot combed pony tail. She alternated this style with her salt and pepper Shirley Temple curled wig which I decided once to put on my head as a baby while I brushed my teeth. Needless to say it was immortalized on camera.

Why am I telling you these things? I am telling you because the way I think now is influenced by the life of the woman who raised me in the past. Emma Lily Mitchell was my foster mother and I loved her dearly. She died when I was 14, and I was pretty much left in the world to fend for myself afterwards.

Months before “Mama” died, I would have a recurring dream of her dying. I couldn’t shake it. I would tell her this dream and I always would be comforted with the words “I’ll always be there for you. Mama’s not goin’ anywhere”.

I think in some strange sense she knew, especially after her first heart attack. Two weeks later she suffered her second heart attack. She said something as profound and loving as the medic wheeled her out of the door on that dark summer evening which stays with me forever about her love:

“What about my babies?!”

The woman who took care of countless children who did not share her blood was concerned more for our well-being than her own, which at the time, hung in the balance. She will always be my hero for many reasons, but if for nothing else, that statement alone. The ambulance sped off in the distance with traces of her cries dissipating with every revolution the vehicle's tires.

I never saw her again. Oh by the way, thank you Mandi Jenner*, you called me through my best friend at the time and told me you were breaking up with me literally 5 minutes after I was told Mama was dead. The worst day of my life was now official.

One random day soon after Mamas death I sat in my bed looking out of my window at the purplish orange and blue sky of night giving birth to the day approaching. It was at that moment the entire world stopped. I realized I was going to die one day. It may not have been that day I thought. I may not be even 60, 70, or 80 years from then.

What I did remember thinking is that it could be anytime between now and then. I did not know when.  I did not know how.

The blood effortlessly pumping throughout my body I suddenly felt.

The hair on my arms stood.

My stomach dropped as if someone cut the cable of an elevator I occupied and I suddenly plunged stories by the second, only to soar ever so quickly back up into the recesses of my throat.

I WAS ALIVE.

“Thank you Lord for another day,” I stated out loud emphatically, tiredly, quietly, yet dutifully.

Every day of my life since that very day I have opened my eyes, looked out of the window and recited this phrase to God, and to myself.

My thanksgiving to God has never become routine, even after 7,357 consecutive days and counting.

It has been my Good Morning to God. It is why I am so emphatic about saying Good Morning every day to you.

Next post in the "Point of it All" blog series Exavier Pope will discuss why he “LOVES YOU”. The “Point of It All” series continues with a post on why we should expect the very best out of every day, and finally a post on what it means to see the positive in everything.

Exavier B. Pope, Esq. is an entertainment and sports attorney, media personality, syndicated writer, Fortune 500 speaker and peak performance strategist, author, philanthropist, and sports business and law blogger for ChicagoNow. All opinions expressed are those solely of Mr. Pope.

(c) 2011, Exavier Pope

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*          Mandi Jenner’s name has been changed.

 

 

 

 

Comments

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  • I'm not going to get into the philosophical, but it would be interesting if you could describe how, like many on the south side, you grew up without a parent figure (at least after 14), but unlike most, you put yourself through college and law school, and now are successful.

  • In reply to jack:

    Check out the rest of the posts and you'll get some more nuggets.

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