May I Make A Suggestion? Return to the words, "I love you," quicker.

And quicker until there is no space between those words and your frustration.

When I engage in arguments with my loved ones, often we aren’t even fighting in the same ring. Words delivered from their pain translate into My Fears and trigger my defense: words delivered from my pain. I convince myself that we are fighting one another, though we are actually in individual battles with our pasts.

When my mom first started showing signs of impaired cognition, I did not understand what was happening. I am the youngest of three daughters and my sisters are six and seven years older than me. When I started exploring my thoughts and recognizing self, they were leaving home. My mom and I were alone for several years and I had an intimate view of watching her realize her dreams. She showed me what it looks like to stand up and break into a full sprint. Cheryle Harris does not adjust to circumstances. She makes the world adjust to her will. I depended on her to lead the way. When she began to make odd statements and requests, I did not understand that she was losing her place in the world. She started to forget herself and I was a daughter in the dark. The progression of Alzheimer’s dementia is hauntingly slow and painfully fast.

My mom and I share a love for books and words. After my sisters left the house, we started a nighttime ritual of eating popcorn in her bed and reading the bible together. Our bookshelves at home housed a broad collection of self-help texts; books written by, about, and for Black people; and volumes of Vogue magazines. She taught me that words are powerful living codes that have been reformatted throughout history. She assigned me required reading when I was younger and set a blueprint for my life. When my mom began to forget, I had not yet learned that grace is required for words to become language. And this is one of the first things she failed to remember. We began to use our words as weapons. She was trying to hold on to who she was and I was trying to hold on to her approval. She fought the disease and I fought my fear and we believed that we were fighting each other.

We carried on this way for several years. It is only now that I can disrupt the cycle of war and peace between us. I say to myself, “I love my mom” I say to myself, “my mom loves me.” These words allow me enough clarity to reset my emotions and gain the courage to offer my full self to my mom without fear of rejection. I have become a new person who can give the energy of my love without boundary or binds. I touch her when I am near her and I speak to her softly and tenderly. Beyond the words, is the feeling of my love. She responds with happiness and peace.

When I feel attacked or triggered with loved ones, I am practicing returning to the words, “I love you,” quicker because it works. There have been times when I waited so long to tell people that I love them during or after big fights that the trust is broken and I cannot find my way back to companionship. With Rahsaan, I lost someone before I could close the gap between those words and my frustration. I have learned from that pain. I am grateful for transformation.