This book begins with the past and ends with the future for Olivia. She has lost two sons within 5yrs and 8months of each other. She has gone through incest and rape as a young child. She lived with an aunt that made her life a living hell, and she goes through a divorce after 32 years of marriage. The walls end up coming down on her and it is at this moment that all she has gone through the deaths of her sons, the hurt, the lost of her parents and the rapes that occurred, it all begins to resurface. All that she thought she had forgiven people for, she finds that deep down inside she never trully forgave them at all.

When Is It My Time To Cry

By Jo Anne M. Craig

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2011 Dr. Jo Anne M. Craig
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4634-0961-6

Chapter One

A Strong Black Woman

Olivia's story traces the present, the past and the future. In the past eleven years of her life she has had one tragedy after another starting on June 7, 1998, with the death of her oldest son, Michael, at 24. Eleven years later she found herself sitting and asking herself, "When Is It My Time to Cry?"

The thing that scared her the most during all her tragedies was that one day it would all come crashing down on her and she would not be able to handle it. She never really had the chance to mourn as a mother should upon the death of a child because she was so busy caring for and being supportive of everyone else. Someone had to be strong for they were all feeling a hurt that would never go away. Funeral arrangements had to be made. Gene, her husband, was in his own little world and she was forbidden to enter. He wanted only one thing, and that was his son, who was now gone. He shut everything and everyone out of his life at that point, and later there would be hell to pay for the lost of his son. Gene did not even have the courage to go with her to purchase a burial suit for Mike or to clean out his car. He was lost in his own world and she knew she would not be able to reach him for now, and he would seek solace in the bottle.

Finally her worst fear had come true, and now she sees a therapist twice a month. There is an old saying, "The straw that finally broke the camel's back." She began to feel worthless, and every morning it took an effort to get up. She wanted her sons, and as she began to think about them she wept. Her cry is an uncontrollable sob, a sob that hurts so terribly and so deeply within her that she cannot explain it.

She has a doctorate in education. Through all the tragedies of her life since 1998 she never gave up on her education and continued to strive to complete her program despite the obstacles. Her children have always seen her as a strong black woman, a role model and inspiration in their lives, and would not have wanted her to give up on her education no matter what.

At one point Olivia felt her life was worth nothing. She felt useless and empty. She wanted more, she wanted to do something to make her feel complete and satisfied with her life now that she had no one to care for any longer. She wanted to add to her resume, to prove to herself and others that she was worth something because by now she felt she was a complete failure. With an education and a degree that she felt were completely worthless. She felt an emptiness she had never felt before, and she could not handle it. She thought and thought about what it was she really wanted to do once again to make her feel complete as a woman and a human being.

She thought of going into medicine the field of nephrology and cardiac care to help the sick and comfort them, and perhaps find a cure to help save lives. She took a job at a local hospital to help fulfill that desire. There she got her first taste and experience of racial and age discrimination. Besides everything else she had been through, this made the walls cave in on her. She was afraid that one day she would reach a breaking point where everything would just come down on her and she would just 'lose it' completely. She was still grieving and hurting inside—the job was just a bandage on her grief. She hoped to give back to those who had given so much care to her children. Working at the hospital and becoming a pre-med student would be a way of healing for her. She thought that her way of dealing with everything that had happened to her, was keeping as busy as she could, would help. She would not have an idle mind and would not have to think about or deal with her losses and disappointments.

Discrimination is one of those things that you would think would not exist in 2009. However, Olivia has always said that discrimination was only hiding in the closet for a while and would come out again and expose itself buck naked. She was very grateful not to have been born in the South because she knew she would never have survived racial discrimination. She said, "They would have lynched me for sure, and given lynching a new meaning. I would have been the defiant Negro. Whenever they ordered me to do this or that, I would have told them to do it themselves—I am not your maid. I would probably have gone into establishments that said "Whites only," and I know that they would have looked at me and asked, "Who the hell do you think you are, nigger?" Growing up in the South would definitely have shortened her life because her actions and mouth surely would have gotten her killed. She would have been an advocate, always fighting for the cause of the Blacks, opposing the injustices they were enduring.

She would have marched with Dr. Martin Luther King and the Southern Christian Leadership every time they said, "Let's march." She has often envisioned herself as Harriet Tubman, freeing as many slaves as she could. She has always believed that we are all created equal, and no human being should be enslaved by another human being. She would rebel against the inhumanity of it.

Olivia had heard the stories, and had been denied the right to learn the truth about the history of her people. She always knew deep down that there was more to their history than what was taught in the schools. In her high school American History class, she asked the teacher, "Why don't we have Black History?" Of course, that was unheard of when she went to school, and even today we have had to fight to learn our history. Olivia has always yearned to learn more about black history because she always felt she came from a heritage that was beautiful and even felt that she had royalty in her blood. Therefore, it is of utmost importance to her to know where she comes from and who her ancestors were.

As children we all have fantasies about what we want to be when we grow up. Olivia wanted to be a lawyer, one of the best black female lawyers on the East Coast. However, because of situations and circumstances in her life she took a different avenue and became an educator. During her college years she realized that she might have chosen the wrong profession and should have gone into medicine. She entered school as a returning adult in the area of higher education after being out of school for more than sixteen years.

As a student, she had to help her spouse by earning a living to help pay the bills at home and support three children as well. She took a job as a companion and then entered private duty home-care nursing. In 1978 she gave birth to a beautiful bouncing baby boy, ending her child-bearing days. At ten months he became very sick and was rushed to the hospital. At that moment she could never have imagined what lay on the road ahead for her and her family.

Her son Chad was diagnosed with hypogammanimia and would have to be injected with gamma globulin for the rest of his life. He was the eighth child and the second Black child in the United States with this disease. Dr. Maryellen Connelly, Children's Hospital of Philadelphia, later the head of the Tennessee Children's Hospital, was responsible for finding the source of Chad's disease and diagnosing it correctly. It was only after her endless testing and her researching of Olivia's family history that she was able to make a correct diagnosis. Olivia spent the next 25 years running back and forth to Children's Hospital of Philadelphia with her son, at the same time studying full-time at Temple University.

Chad did well with IM injections until he was nine, when he started receiving the injections intravenously. He was then diagnosed with a renal disease that would forever change their lives. At fourteen he was put on dialysis because his kidneys were beginning to shut down and he was literally dying before their eyes. He had begun to lose his hair, he had lost weight, and his complexion had changed color. He was also diagnosed with lymphedema (elephant titus) of the lower extremities a year after the kidney disease diagnosis.

Shortly after the last two of Chad's diagnoses, Olivia and her husband began a journey that took strength and God's help to make it through. Chad was hospitalized more and more frequently each time it was critical. Infections landed him in a hospital bed for weeks at a time and when he was released, he was given IV antibodies to continue at home. Olivia and her husband would take shifts administering the medication at home. As an undergraduate she often wondered if she could make it. At times she had to pick Chad up at the hospital and head straight to the Temple campus for finals, while administering an IV to Chad in class.

Through all that she finally made it. At times she had to repeat a class, but it made her a better student, and she always understood the reason why. Chad was in the hospital the year Olivia's class graduation was held, and she along with Chad and Gene watched her class march into the ceremony that day across the street from Children's Hospital of Philadelphia.

On February 2, 2004, Chad left them at the age of 25. Two years before his death he had five major organs taken from him at the same time, his kidneys, gall bladder, spleen and appendix. His recovery was a miracle from God and infection-free—the doctors had been very worried about infections setting in. Chad was one of God's miracles, and the doctors just could not understand how this young man could be infection-free. Olivia tried many times to tell them that she believed in God and that prayer changes things, and that she walked by faith all the time. She was not even worried when they told her that Chad needed the operation—she knew that God would bring him out all right. Gene was so worried, and said to her, "Hon, I guess I will have to step out on your faith again."

Faith was all she had at the time, and her daily prayer was that God not take her son, not now. She prayed hard for years and took her children to church regularly. She wanted to set an example for them of faith in God, and teach them that she was brought up to serve Him no matter what obstacles life presents. She had learned at an early age to trust in God and walk by faith. Her mother was one of the greatest Christians she had ever known, and instilled in her children at a very early age the need to believe in God, to serve and trust in Him and to walk by faith.

Many times Dr. Kaplan was just plain stunned by Chad's recovery, and Olivia would tell him, "Dr. Kaplan, I told you I serve a God who never fails, and that is why Chad has bounced back. Prayer changes things, especially when others are praying for you too." Dr. Kaplan would say the same thing to her every time, "Mrs. Webber, I don't believe in God and we won't talk about God today." At Chad's funeral, Dr. Kaplan spoke about his mother's belief in God and about her and Gene's courage, their devotion and dedication as parents. Dr. Kaplan and his wife had a tree planted in Israel in remembrance of Chad.

Almost six years before Chad's death, Olivia's son, Mike, had been diagnosed with congestive heart failure (CHF). It was exactly five years and eight months between their sons' deaths.

Olivia appreciated the love and cares the nursing staff and doctors gave her sons. She knew that Chad was at times difficult to deal with. When in pain he did not want to be touched. At times he made her so angry with him because she knew that he had to be checked. Many interns train at Children's Hospital, and doctors needed to check him, and he was just particular about showing his private body parts to everyone. He never let a female physician check his private areas no matter what. They always had to get a male doctor for him.

Olivia took a part-time job at Robert Wood Johnson Hospital. The more time she spent at the hospital, the more she realized she wanted to be able to do more in the field of medicine. One way she could do more and give back was by becoming a physician. Through her earlier trials and tribulations as an undergrad and graduate student in education, she had persevered and stuck it out through life and death. Her oldest son passed away during her second year of graduate school. The following month, she was scheduled to be at Nova Southeastern University in Fort Lauderdale, Florida for her summer residency requirement. She amazed herself that year—she buried her son on the thirteenth of June and the very next month was on a plane to Florida to meet her residency requirement.

Olivia has always had great confidence in herself and knew that she could do anything she set her mind to, with determination and sacrifice as motivating factors. The goals she set for herself in life she has thus far achieved and will continue to succeed in any endeavor she undertakes. She realized that because she had taken care of so many sick people for such a long time, and still does, she had the compassion needed to care for the sick. She has often said that she chose the wrong major in college—she should have been a pre-med student from the start. She would say to her son Chad, "I have done everything for you medically except perform surgery on you at home." He would laugh and say, "Thank you for the care."

Olivia felt she had had the practice and now needed the classes to receive the proper medical education and a medical degree so that she could continue giving back to the community and those in need. However, that decision too takes a turn in her life. During her second pre-med semester she became sick herself and had to take medical leave from school, just another twist in her life that she had to accept with difficulty.

Now finally her worst fear had come true—the walls of Jericho were coming down and she felt that she was in a battle, a battle she knew she could not fight alone, but needed someone stronger than herself to help her understand what was happening to her at this time in her life.

Olivia has always been perceived as a strong Black woman by everyone who knew her, but she was beginning to doubt that she was the strong person people believe her to be. Five years and eight months after she lost her oldest son she lost her baby boy at the age of 25, on February 2, 2004, at the same hospital where she later took a job. She knew that at that time in her life people might think she was a crazy 58-year-old with hormones completely out of whack. To tell the truth, they were—but that was not why she chose to go back to school. Oh, let me mention too that after the deaths of her sons and her life of hell, she also went through a divorce after 32 years of marriage.

When Mike died, her husband Gene became self-centered and acted as through he thought himself the only parent involved in this loss, and he left her to deal with their son's death all by herself as best she could, and the sad thing was that he really did not care at the time. If ever she needed him the most in her life it was then. But exactly one month after they buried Mike she found herself alone and on her own in her very own apartment for the first time in 32 years.

Olivia's husband had always drunk alcohol, but after Mike died his drinking got worse and got so bad that it began to affect her health with all the verbal abuse and dissension that came along with it. A month before Mike's death, when she was in class one Saturday in Newark, Delaware, she began to feel very ill. She had just eaten lunch and thought she had heartburn and she took something for it. The feeling was still there and she felt as if she would pass out, and all she could keep saying was, "Lord, please help me." The class was doing a group exercise and the group had chosen to do their project outside, which pleased her because she felt in desperate need of fresh air. She was frightened and felt that she was about to die. Something was very wrong.

No one was home when she returned from class, so she left a note taped to the television telling her husband Gene that she was in the emergency room at the hospital. She was admitted to the hospital for a severe anxiety attack, which had symptoms of a heat attack. The doctor warned her that it was essential to get rid of whatever was causing her distress or it would lead to a heart attack.

Gene did not come to the hospital immediately because he could not tear himself away from the Candlelight Lounge where he was drinking. He was dealing with the loss of a job he worked at for 32 years. He was the right hand man of his boss, who had died suddenly, Councilman Jimmy Robinson, the executive director of Mercer Chemical Industry, Inc.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from When Is It My Time To Cryby Jo Anne M. Craig Copyright © 2011 by Dr. Jo Anne M. Craig. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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