Ajaih
The donor process was a success. Lena was healing, her color back, her laugh returning, and every time I saw her, I felt a deeper pull. Like some missing part of me had been tucked back into place.
The days leading up to the procedure, Yanna and Ahmir were with me every step of the way, and on the day of the procedure, they were there, holding my hands and calming my nerves.
Yanna had explained it all, especially how bone marrow donation wasn’t like it used to be, that I’d be sore but okay.
And she was right. The pain was bearable.
The relief? Immeasurable. But healing something physical was easier than the emotional shit.
When Kimberly first mentioned therapy, I honestly thought she was full of shit, merely saying what she thought I wanted to hear, until she called.
“Are you free Thursday?” she asked. “I scheduled a family therapy session, and if you can make it, I’d be happy to have you come.”
I said yes, mainly for Lena and DJ. They deserved a chance at something better, something that didn’t include secrets and well-kept trauma; hell, maybe I did too. After hanging up with her, still unable to bring myself to refer to her as my mother, I called Dro. He answered on the second ring.
“Babygirl, you good?” Dro asked, sounding happy to hear my voice.
“I am,” I said, deciding to get straight to the point, “I’m going to therapy with Kim and my siblings.”
Silence.
“She asked me to, and I think you should come. You deserve to say what you need to say, respectfully.”
He chuckled, catching my subtle shade, because if he had his way, he would cuss her ass out and tell her to eat shit.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, we’ve been holding this too long. The pain of her abandonment made my life hard before I could even walk or talk. She needs to hear and feel the weight of the pain she caused us if she truly wants to heal and have a chance at having me in her life.”
“I guess you have a point,” he agreed, albeit begrudgingly, agreement nonetheless.
The address was an hour away, in a neutral spot.
We pulled up to a beautiful house that had been transformed into a therapy center, complete with a calming atmosphere.
Kimberly was already there, sitting on a beige couch, her emotions etched all over her face, though she tried to put on her best poker face.
I could tell by the way she was fidgeting that Dro’s presence still had an impact on her 42 years later.
Lena looked at me with wide, hopeful eyes. DJ gave me a quick fist bump. Dro and I sat opposite Kimberly. I assumed there would be some small talk, but no, we got right to it.
“So, what do you want to say to your mother?” the therapist asked.
I inhaled, preparing to lay my soul bare. “That I spent most of my life wondering what was so wrong with me that you could pick up and leave me, never looking back. That you gave up a daughter and built a whole life as if I didn’t exist. That I don’t trust you, and I don’t know if I ever will.”
Kimberly’s eyes welled up. “I know. I deserve that. I was a coward.”
“No,” Dro said, his voice sharp, “You were more than a coward. You broke her, you broke us, and for what? A life that I could’ve provided you, given the chance?”
She flinched.
“You left her with me and disappeared. You let me drown without you,” his voice cracked. “I loved you, Kim; I would’ve done anything to be happy with you, with us, as a family, and you just left.” The tears finally falling from his eyes.
Kimberly’s jaw trembled. “Because you were in the streets, Dro. Running with people who put targets on your back. People like Jarvis,” her voice elevated, the pain evident.
Based on Dro’s reaction, I could tell that name hit like a gut punch.
“Who is Jarvis?” I asked, confused, looking between the two of them
She looked at me, then at him. “Jarvis raped me. When I was pregnant with you, he snatched the joy from my heart, mind, and soul. I was too far along to terminate the pregnancy. Still, I remember having to drive two hours away to have an STD panel done and make up lies about why just to be sure he didn’t give me or you anything,” she was full on sobbing at this point and my body and mind moved on their own as I went to her and wrapped her in my arms.
“He said if I told anyone, he’d kill me, you, and Ajaih.
The day I gave birth, he came to the hospital.
You had stepped out to get me some dinner because the hospital food was slop.
I woke up and he was in the room, holding her, holding our fucking babygirl with a look of evil in his eyes, looking at me like he didn’t give a damn about anything. ”
The room froze.
Tears continued to fall down her cheeks. “So I left. Not because I didn’t love you, but because I was terrified and I carried that alone, until now.”
I didn’t know what to feel. The range of emotions washed over me in waves: rage, grief, pity, and empathy.
Dro leaned back, silent, his jaw clenched so hard it ticked, his eyes filled with tears.
The therapist mentioned taking a break, but I didn’t catch it. I continued holding her, my mother, this broken woman with too many secrets. In that moment, I understood we were all just survivors of different wounds.
“I forgive you,” I said softly.
She pulled back, looking at me to see if she’d heard me right.
“I don’t know your story, but I want to, and if you’re serious, I’d like to work through this to have a relationship with you.”
I don’t quite know what expectations I had going forward, but I recognized that to be a big sister, I needed to be healthy, and the journey to healthy started with healing, even if it hurt like hell first. As we finished up, we scheduled another session before Dro and I headed out.
We sat outside the therapy center, the air still and heavy, my thoughts noisier than ever. Dro lit a joint he didn’t need but deserved as this heavy ass therapy session. The flare of the lighter briefly illuminating his face. I stared out at the parking lot, then turned to him.
“Who was Jarvis?”
His jaw clenched. “A former business associate from when I was still deep in the life.”
I said nothing, just let the silence press him to continue.
“He was older, slick. Made his money but always wanted more. I didn’t see it at first, but your uncle Ant warned me. Said Jarvis was a snake who’d bite me the second he got the chance.”
I shifted, watching his profile.
“He was jealous. Hoe ass nigga wanted everything I had. My money, the respect the streets had for me, my family, and apparently, Kim.”
My stomach turned.
“When he got popped by some undercover feds, he tried to take everyone down with him. Dropped names, mine, Ant’s. Fuckin rat tried to flip the whole damn table.”
“But he didn’t?”
Dro looked me square in the eye. “Because we made sure he couldn’t. Ant made a call. Jarvis never made it to trial. He was found dead in his cell. Suicide, they said.”
He paused then, staring ahead, voice low, “You know, thinking back, I remember coming home and Kim was…different. She’d become a shell of the girl I’d fallen in love with.
One day she was my ride-or-die, strong and sharp as hell.
Then she just… dimmed. Wouldn’t look me in the eye.
Didn’t want to be touched. At the time, I thought it was the stress, the pregnancy, maybe something I did, but now? ”
He shook his head slowly. “It had to be what Jarvis did. I should’ve tried harder to find her. I was so hurt and fueled by ego and pain that I wrote her off, whole time I put her in harm’s way.” his voice was shaky.
I didn’t flinch. I didn’t ask questions I didn’t want answers to; instead, I just listened. Dro wasn’t a pour-your-heart-out type of man, so the fact that he was talking? I gave him the space to do so and just listened.
“He hurt your mother, didn’t blink when threatening you, and tried to end my life. I wish I could bring the bitch ass rat back to life just to end his life again, slowly and torturously.”
For a while, we just sat—no more confessions, no tears, just a father and daughter torn apart by someone else’s choices, trying to stitch together something worth keeping.
“I should’ve been there,” he said.
“You were a kid too,” I replied, “Trying to survive and provide.”
He nodded, “Still, I’m so sorry, baby girl.”
I rested my head on his shoulder, and for the first time in years, it didn’t feel like something was missing between us. Maybe this was what healing looked like, ugly, honest, but whole.
Yanna and Dana were curled up on my living room couch, wine glasses in hand, listening intently as I recounted the therapy session with my mother, siblings, and Dro.
“I still can’t believe it,” I said, voice barely above a whisper, “She didn’t leave because she didn’t love me or want me; she left because one of Dro’s old associates, Jarvis, raped her.”
Both women froze, wide-eyed. The silence held heavy until Dana reached out, wrapping her arms around me. Yanna followed, sandwiching me between them.
The tears that had been sitting at the brim of my eyes finally fell.
“The bastard didn’t stop there,” I added.
“He threatened to kill her while she was pregnant with me, and Dro, if she said anything. Can you imagine the torment of having to be around someone who harmed you and act like they didn’t?
And to make matters worse, he showed up at the hospital when she delivered me and woke up to him in the room holding me while Dro ran out to get her some dinner. ”
Yanna gasped, “I had no idea.”
“Neither did I, and now? I want to get to know her without all the pain and anger and keep building a relationship with my siblings, and continue working through the pain in therapy.”
“I’m proud of you,” Dana said, rubbing my back.
“We both are,” Yanna added.