Papa Don't Preach by Sade C. Morrison

Author:Sade C. Morrison [Morrison, Sade C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, United States, African American, Christian, Women's Fiction
ISBN: 1499789580
Amazon: B00KSFX8GA
Published: 2014-06-04T04:00:00+00:00

Jackie

12

June 22, 1978

I leaned in close to my vanity mirror and put on some pink lipstick. My best friend, Diane gave it to me on the last day of school. She knows that Mama and Daddy don’t allow me to wear makeup. The only thing I can to put on my lips is Vaseline.

But Diane’s mother takes her to Hudson’s to pick out sparkly eye shadows and perfumes that smell like sweet fruits mixed with the petals of pretty flowers. I’m jealous of Diane and her cool mother. Never in a zillion years would Mama take me shopping for anything besides plain-colored fabrics to sew into my ugly, shapeless dresses.

I blotted my lips with a tissue fifteen times until the bright pink color faded. Now, it was hard to tell that I was wearing lipstick at all, but I still knew it. And he would know it too. I smiled at the thought of him. In my mind, he was my husband already. At fifteen years old, I knew I was too young to get married in real life. But I had no doubt that I was going to be his wife one day.

“Jackie!” Mama yelled.

“Yes, Mama, I’m coming…” I took one last look at myself in the mirror. I was wearing a pair of jeans my Aunt Rose had given me for Christmas and a t-shirt that was a size too big. All of my clothes were a little loose because Mama said it was important for me to not show off “my treasures.” I tucked in my shirt, trying my best to show off my waistline.

“Jackie!”

I hurried into the living room. Mama was sitting on the couch, wearing a moo moo. She was so obese that she nearly took up two seat cushions. It was heartbreaking to see her. I had prayed many times for God to restore my mother’s health, but through the years, she only gained more weight. I was determined never to let that happen to me. Even if I had to eat salads for breakfast, lunch and dinner for the rest of my life, I never wanted to be as helpless as Mama.

“I need you to go get my insulin.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I went into the kitchen and got her diabetes supplies out of the cabinet. I walked back into the living room.

I sat next to Mama and pricked her index finger with the small needle. Then, I put the droplet of blood on a strip of a paper to check her blood sugar level. A few seconds later, I prepared her insulin needle the way I had many times before. Mama rolled up her sleeve and closed her eyes. I inserted the insulin needle into her arm. She jumped slightly and took several deep breaths.

When I finished, she said, “I appreciate the way you look after me. I don’t know what in the world I’d do without you, Jackie.”

“I pray everyday they find a cure for it.”

“Yes, Lord. Sugar disease is an awful thing to live with.

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