I have lived in the United States for about 25 years both my brother and I were in America since infancy we are so Americanized it is not funny. I didn’t learn Creole until the age of 8 I still have an accent when I speak my mother’s native language. She just doesn’t want to let go she tries to control everything and she is such a liar. This lady is the person who taught me and my brother about God. She has even had many spiritual encounters of the third kind. God warned her of my father’s death, the night before she went on vacation in Haiti the year of my father’s death she dreamt of 2 coffins in their bedroom. She then went to a Christian retreat and prayed for thirty days and thirty nights. The last night of the retreat when she went to sleep she dreamt one of the coffins was gone the other remained. My dad knew about the dream and ignored my moms request for him to pray with her. At this point my dad who was a Mormon and freemason did not really follow my mom’s spiritual practices. God gave him a chance to live but he chose to ignore it. My mom has been the spiritual anchor for my family. Lately she has been a little off well really after my dad’s death. She blamed God for a very long time. To show you how much God Jesus visited her in a dream once. She went to bed one night crying since 6 am to 10pm she finally went to sleep and she dreamt of her in a field of grass calling out to God and say two hands appear and a voice saying Annette be strong I am with you. That day before the dream she cried until tears could not come out of her eyes anymore. I thank God so much because I could have lost both Parents at the age of 17 he spared me from such hardship. When we lived in Brooklyn the wrong crowd was all around us gambling, drugs, and gangbanging. April of 1995 I was jumped by 12 people who I believe were high school kids I was in junior high they wanted money. I didn’t work nor did my parents believe in an allowance. They stole my watch my day made me get it back. He told me go out in the streets and get your property back I am not raising any punks. Mom cradled me my big brother went out in the streets busting heads with me. That began the legacy of the Daniel boys we tasted violence in a major way and had the neighborhood fearing us. Imagine two guys taking down a gang of 12 systematically and getting a 5$ Casio watch back. We were respected and looked upon as the leaders of the neighborhood in other words we almost became leaders of a gang. Then a big change happened we moved to Florida because my day did not want to work in a check to check job anymore while he had a degree in engineering in his country. He built his and my moms dream house in Haiti bought the cars of their dreams and established an import and export business in Haiti along with a small provisions market for the people. They moved us to Florida in order for us to be closer to Haiti and finish school away from Brooklyn’s street life. In my opinion I believe it is God’s hand at work because I see what became of my old neighborhood in BK and how the people became savages. My Dad survived and organized crime robbery in Manhattan NY were he was placed in the trunk of a car and left their one nigh working the grave shift in his second job as a parking attendant. To see that he died in his own country when he finally achieved his goal hurts me deeply. But he had a chance to save himself God called him he didn’t listen. Since then my spiritual mom has been a shell of her former self bad decisions has made her bitter. The biggest thing is that she invested in land in Atlanta and the people that were doing the whole deal stole her money and we cannot find them. She always says that if my dad was here this wouldn’t happen. She is right my dad spoiled her to the max. Every Sunday he cooked for her, dray baths for her after work, clipped her toe nails. All the bills and hard labor was his responsibility all he every asked for in return was respect in his house and support. The love was always there because we admired his hard work. I miss him so dam much! I love my mother so much ad want her to be happy but everything I do she always compares it to what my dad did and how I don’t measure up to it. I have to learn to be me not my father now because I tried and failed to be that comfort for my mom. This is one reason why I believe I have a fear of commitment. I don’t want to leave a grieving widow behind. Because I know I have my father’s mentality to take care of my family to a point where I spoil them. TO be continued…..!