Wanda D. Hudson

Miss Luv's Books - Because Everybody Needs A Little Luv!

Bobby James Hudson

Wherever He Is, he is. He is everywhere and so is he. I believe, so I am with Him and we are always together. I miss my daddy. But when you believe in Him it’s alright. I believe – I’m alright.

So why the doubt? Why do I refuse to understand? Why do I have to remind myself to step out on faith? Faith, belief…Lawd help me. Should you believe what you can’t see or touch? Should you believe what you feel? I believe what I feel. Faith.

Death. Death to me equals disappearing without a trace. How is that possible? My father was here. He held me, he talked to me, he laughed with me, he loved me and now he’s gone. The trace is memories. No one can disappear without a trace. There is something there, but maybe we haven’t seen it yet. When he first passed away I couldn’t remember anything. All the dreams I had were jumbled and he was never in them. Now I see him clearly – my trace is abundant.

Confusion. Confusion equals chaos, which leads to fear. We fear the unknown. Do you believe what you don’t know? Faith; just hold on to faith.

It was good to go back to Florida and talk to my daddy. A weird thought came to me. I felt I could dig deep in the dirt and open his casket so he would see me. STOOPID.  I got a grip and just talked. I talk to him a lot, but talking in person always outweighs distance. I know he heard me. He hears me each and every time. I wonder will I see him again. When we die do we change? Do we forget? Do we still love and remember who we left behind? When I die will I see him? Will he want to see me? I believe. I’m still his babygirl, so the answer is yes.

Doubt always gets on my nerves. It thinks it can shut me down since I don’t have my captain here giving me pep talks. Faith beats doubt all the time; straight flush, gin rummy, go fish. Whatever you choose to play, choose faith as your teammate - you’ll never lose.

I took a picture of his headstone to see his name. I traced it and cried.  My Doobah said, “Hey, that’s my last name. He has the same last name as me.” Thank God for shades. He was here, he is here. We say no more pain or suffering and that’s what I lean towards. My daddy was sick. I didn’t want him to be sick. We say that’s The Master’s Plan. Believe that His Plans never fail. Pain ceases, hurt subsides, but memories last forever.

I feel good….better. If I only have two dollars in my pocket I can make it. Yah’ll can help a sista by going to my website…Anyway…

Wherever He Is, he is. I believe, so he is always with me.

I love you daddy.


                                                                                       

Bobby James Hudson, 66, a retired carpet and tile store owner passed away on Wednesday, June 4, 2008 at Munroe Regional Medical Center. Mr. Hudson was born to parents Manzer and Jessie Bell Carter Hudson, who are both now deceased, on January 5th, 1942 in Andalusia Alabama. Bobby was raised by two loving foster parents -  cousin Mr. Leonard and Bessie Mae Ferrell. Leonard Ferrell is now deceased; Mrs. Bessie Mae Ferrell resides in Red Level Alabama and has recently celebrated her 100th birthday.

After a robust childhood with his brothers, Jasper Hudson (deceased) and Willie Lee Wilson, and sister Ella Mae Seales (deceased), Bobby graduated from Ralph J. Bunch High School. He then attended Tuskegee Institute in Tuskegee Alabama. Mr. Hudson resided in Niagara Falls NY with his first wife, Mary Alice (Graham) and two children, Ronald Lamar and Wanda Denise. Mr. Hudson supported his family by being the first black man to work in an office position at the TAM Factory on Hyde Park Boulevard. Later he managed the Color Tile Store on Military Road.

Mr. Hudson relocated to Ocala Florida in the late 80's to open Hudson's Carpert and Tile. Mr. Hudson worked at his successful business until his illness forced him to retire. Mr. Hudson was a proud member of MT. Tabor A.M.E. Church, serving as a Trustee, Steward, Co-Chair of the Couples Ministry, Men's Ministry, Male Chorous, and the Sunday School Superintendent.

Mr. Hudson's memory will be cherished by a loving wife, Billie Hudson; daughter, Wanda Denise Hudson,Bronx, NY  son, Ronald Lamar Hudson (Michelle),Niagara Falls, NY brother; Willie D. Wilson; step-daughter, LaTwania Brown, grandchildren, Diana, Ronald, Matthew, Stephanie and Dasia Hudson, Brandy Brown, six sisters-in-law, four brothers-in-law, two God children and a host of  nieces, nephews, cousins, friends and loved ones.

I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course.I have kept the faith. 2 Timothy 4:7

A Procession of One

The word bitch should be used solely in conjunction with the word grief. I promise you, if I ever hear another man call a woman a bitch, I don't care who he is, I'm going to hurt him. If I ever hear another woman call a man a bitch, I'll release a few choice words that will touch her core, but she'll be able to continue. Neither a man nor a woman can make you feel as sickening as grief can. I don't care what they do to you - cheat, lie, steal or slam you to the ground and run. Grief is the only bitch I know.

Grief intruded into my life June 4th 2008 at 4:20pm. That's when I received a call from my father's wife informing me that my daddy, Bobby James Hudson, was gone. She said it as calmly as she could. "Niecy, we lost Bobby today." That's when my procession of one began.

I proceeded to cry. I proceeded to yield to the shit feeling that was ravaging my body, because I couldn't fight back. I proceeded to collapse and let myself be gutted by grief. Grief cuts your insides and churns them at the same time, runs them over, burns them, and leaves them there expecting you to function as if oh well should be the next words you say.

The first steps of my procession were to see my daddy lying in his coffin. Simply visiting my daddy became viewing his body. I was at a wake that would never allow for sleep. This wake wanted tears and I obliged...boy did I oblige.

My procession kept going strong with then next day being more forceful than the first. The funeral told me to say goodbye. I only did so after God told me to hold onto His hand. He said that I will see my daddy later.

Next, the cemetery. Grief began to slither around my throat. It's hold grew tighter and tighter but I still saw the coffin which held my daddy - even with my shades on and my eyes closed.

I know we all go through this but it doesn't diminish the fact that my daddy broke my heart. I know he didn't mean to. I know he loved his babygirl. When I was younger my father told me that he wouldn't always be here. His words - "Babygirl, ya daddy ain't always gone be here." My words - "Well, where are you going to be?" Together we'd laugh. Lawd, I miss my daddy.

A father's love for his daughter is priceless. Fellas, you all can step up your game and you still won't measure up. My daddy made me feel SO special. His encouraging words to keep on babygirl, stick with it, success doesn't come overnight. Man, this hurts.

I wanted my father to see me make it. To him, I already did. He saw something different in me. He saw that I stepped out on faith and did what my passion told me to. I know that he was proud of me.

Bobby James Hudson was the first black man to work in an office position at the TAM Plant in Niagara Falls NY. 1968 didn't have a civil rights march for him - he was just being a provider for his family. Tuskegee Institute taught my daddy a few things. He took that knowledge and eventually opened his own store, Hudson Tile and Carpet in Ocala Florida. But that was after he showed others how it should be done at the Color Tile store in Niagara Falls NY.

My daddy and his ideas! I smile just thinking about them. Shaklee, Amway, Omaha Steaks and BARD (Bobby, Alice, Ronny, Denise) Security. His favorite food - fried chicken. Once my daddy told me that he could eat fried chicken every day! Why? "'Cause I was raised on it babygirl." Oh... I miss my daddy.

He taught my brother to keep a handkerchief in his pocket. My brother now has taught that to his sons. Something so simple. but something to be proud of still. He taught me to be me, and ain't nuthin' wrong with that :-)

Golf, golf, golf. Why did I say that golf was a dumb game...that all you do is walk around hitting a ball. Lawd, did I get a LECTURE on golf! I was a teenager. I'm 42 now and I have NEVER said a bad word about the game of golf since!

I'll hurt, I'll cry and still talk too much about my daddy. My procession will continue with me working it out and being the woman that Bobby James Hudson knew I could be.

I love you daddy.