The Rebirth • The memoirs of one who was born, lost and reborn.

Chapter 1~Breath

The year was 1977. Classics are released such as Marvin Gaye's Got to give it up Part 1, Easy by the Commodores and I wish by Stevie Wonder. The Big Screens are graced with Rocky and Saturday Night Fever. March 12th of that same year at an unknown time, a baby on Holloman AFB in New Mexico took her first breath. A baby of who was soon to be discarded over and over with the hopes by others of not having a chance in the world. A baby of who was given the name Tammy Marie Johnson.

Warm smiles and giggles of innocence grace me as I think of my fondest earliest memories. Interesting indeed how the mind works. I am still amazed at the random moments my mind has attached to in rewind to as far back as two years old. I remember falling from a tri-cycle and scrapping my right leg of which until a few years ago remained a faint scar. I remember my first friend in the flesh, the sweetest, a beautiful Hispanic girl named Maria who was also my next door neighbor. I remember awakening every morning with laughter and excitement to be free to kiss the wind, have tea parties and make snow cones with my snoopy ice maker.

I remember my first parents, my grandmother and grandfather, Fred and Luberta Jean Johnson. Because of them I remember and know love. Mrs. Johnson grew up on a farm in Texarkana, Arkansas and from what I can remember so did Mr. Johnson. From the first time I saw vintage swords on the wall of the living room of which faced the 8 track player of the house that was built by his hands, I knew my grandfather was special and had untold travels throughout his journey. A World War II Veteran, always in salute I am in thanks for his service.

The abundance of love shown will never be forgotten and in belief, saved my life. Every Friday my grandfather would take me to the toy store and let me pick out whatever toy I wanted. I resonated with the consistent reminder that keeping my space clean, working hard and being obedient was followed by being the recipient of the prestigious award of toy store Friday. Sitting on the porch, snapping peas, salting fresh watermelons and watching my grandfather was my favorite time with him.

My praying grandmother always kept my hair nice in big ponytail twists and dressed in pretty dresses. She was a true chef in the kitchen. I reckon maybe lessons from growing up on a farm. As I would sit and watch her cook with the pain she had in the form of a knot in her thumb from cleaning houses to make ends meet, she began to teach me. I was very young but caught on very quick. Her smile and laugh was radiating with one gold tooth on the front left side with a blue star in it. Priceless.

On the days when others were included in our lives as a family, we would go and visit my god mother Vassie Holland. She was just as sweet as my grandparents. On some days we would be visited by a man who I called uncle that would bring crates of chips just for me. I don't recall if the man I called uncle was related to my grandfather or just my grandfather's friend but a funny and nice man indeed. A small home, with a small circle, however rich in so much love, comfort and protection. My humbled world was soon to change.

Though I was young I could feel when disruption was on the brink and I now know that God was talking to me, ministering to me, preparing me. The memories of my mother are in and out of my grandparent's home from time to time. At some point I began to notice her more and more and when she would come near, it was unfortunately uncomfortable. I learned very early how to numb myself from negative energy and to hide it in the pit of my stomach, unhealthy, but a process self-taught. I don't remember a time when I did not feel hated when she was near. Unexplainable as to why I felt that way but I could indeed feel it, just as strongly as the love felt from my grandparents.

Though my mother's presence was different, I still loved her, though I cannot remember being told from her lips, "I love you", being hugged or even a kiss on my forehead, I still love her. The covering my grandparents and godmother prayed on for me kept me from having an evil heart. From breath the enemy has worked hard to destroy my destiny but this battle has, is and always will be the Lords. The covering by God over me for sure is infinite.