Chronicle 078 ~Let’s Book It, Braxton~

I always pictured the Daddy reading to his kids. Of the 38 books I’ve gotten to so far, only 11 (maybe) were appropriate. Braxton was here for four of them. All of January. Yet The Handmaid’s Tale has been on my mind. Let’s Book It, Braxton

Friday, September 17, 2021

Chronicle 078 ~Let’s Book It, Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but what did you do today, Braxton? No hands for applause. Some whining, big floppy ears.

I want to talk about Braxton but, there’s something I’ve been thinking… Moira and Emily. Didn’t I say something um wanting to read The Handmaid’s Tale? How about today, ha. I’ve only seen the show, a bit into Season 3. So here’s my question. Would you want to be Moira, no fanfare but to know that you’re safe? No one that doesn’t know what you’ve endured can ever understand. But now you’re a person you can live, your life matters. Or would you instead be Emily? Your life matters, and everyone knows? You’re seen not only as a survivor but a big damn hero. The world that you escaped from, the things you had to do in such horrific circumstances. Not only that, but someone is waiting for you only.

I’ve been talking to M Anime about how hard it is for her to be a woman. I in no way, shape, or form what to imply I know her struggle. Oh, I would rant to B about being black. My point is this. While I imagined reading The Handmaid’s Tale instead of, well, my latest. When I walk into the house, I remember all the days Braxton was still here to greet me always. Lame, isn’t it? When he was young, for sure, I was an Emily, and I didn’t have to bring in a baby. Bringing in a bag of goodies was enough, and of course, yeah, I’ll hang onto this B III. When he was older, I was Moira. Helpfully loving quietly.

My Day Job stories were a lot more appropriate. Despite multiple uses of the word “motherfucker.” In my younger days, my Olds wanted to know about my day, but not really. Now B III, my son, wanted to know everything. Yeah, I’d imagine that’s why he fought against so much. I told you before, people would say it was like B had to protect me. Sophia, when I would pick up a book, that’s when Braxton knew I was at peace. Hell, to think today, I wanted to tell you about the last book Braxton and I read together. Succubus Lord 7. Gospel 212 and Braxton’s last Friday. He didn’t see the end of Succubus Lord 8. Not appropriate anyway. Still, Let’s Book It, Braxton.

229 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 331 ~B In Present Tense~

Boys and their toys; B was never a toy and usually not a dog. He is my son, and the things he liked most he could eat. He had lots of toys, though, and I told myself after Christmas, I’ll make it up to you when you’re 16 but then… B In Present Tense.

Friday, May 28, 2021

Gospel 331 ~B In Present Tense~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I would buy Braxton a ton of toys. A swimming pool full of fries

Before that, there was Blue. Well, we never gave the big blue dog a name, but he was Braxton’s fifth friend. I suppose, like any father, I wanted to teach my son to fight. Who am I kidding, right? I saw a big dog a few days ago and spent another minute in the car. B III made me brave, but I’m also a black man living in America. After a while, it wasn’t safe to walk with Lucille, a plastic bat, or even a slightly skinny stick to protect us. I don’t mean to sound “political.” Long story short, I saved us from pets but B. That boy was my salvation from people. So we sat there wrestling; he’s undefeated against the Blue dog.

Braxton grew up as growing boys do. I never had the heart to get him neutered. Another part of my Bargaining (Five Stages of Grief). If I had done so, perhaps he would still be alive today. Hell, sometimes I was, as the song goes, “a motherfuckin’ P-I-M-P,” for B. Plenty of people wanted him to breed. A Pure Blood Deer Head Chihuahua, in case you’re wondering why I’m such a dog snob now. If I had to do it all over again, I would have liked to meet B’s kids like I wanted him to love mine. He only had a stick of TNT. “I’m not crazy or anything,” it was a plush toy he had for his Stuff and Thangs. Indiana Gone saw

She also saw B III in love with his favorite toy, a red monster hairdryer plushy she gave him. It was his favorite toy in the whole wide world. He could smell her on it, and every so often, I get a whiff of him. Of all the toys in the world, it was the one I placed beside him. Now I’m going to cry again, remembering him lying in his bed, my arms around him. There was my black hoodie lying in his bed and that toy. If he had a choice, the choice I took from him, B would have given the toy to me for my comfort. He knew before I did.

No toy for Christmas or Birthday… B In Present Tense

117 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 324 ~Go To Bed B~

Right now, I want to go back to sleep and see if I can find Braxton. Hell, John Wick got another dog, and I dreamt I was Mr. Wick last night. It’s better than the dreams of my actual crime, and B III can’t wake me up anymore. “Go To Bed B.”

Friday, May 21, 2021

Gospel 324 ~Go To Bed B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I can sleep without the money. Dare I say without the girl? But there’s Braxton.

Besides my tattoo, I’ve been thinking about getting one of those “Cuddle Clones.” Still, I haven’t been able to decide between B III sleeping or being awake. Braxton slept well. Okay, so that’s something you tell a baby, “oh, you’re such a good sleeper.” I’ve told the story of Braxton being my “pancake” and curling up in my lap as I sat working on stories. The Wednesday before he died, he didn’t take his post at the corner of my bed after I got back. He didn’t crawl on my legs, looking towards the door. B cried and my response. Father of the year says, “Go To Bed B,” like he hadn’t been sleeping all day. Still, he crawled under my arm, staying beside me.

There will always be the story of when I thought I left him outside all night. Of course, I didn’t. Only I was out running around in the morning while Braxton slept in his house. Any day when I was leaving, he would formulate a plot to get me to stay. He knew I wouldn’t leave him inside the bedroom. Denial, it seems, moving his bed and the dog gate. With the Day Job, Braxton gave up. It was too early even for him, or he knew I had made my choice like “Six: The Mark Unleashed.” The last free choice, the wrong choice Sophia. Yes, I’m still freaking out about the COVID-19 Vaccine. I’m not a man of faith; I deserve Hell… I’m there.

“I’d tell you to go to Hell, but I think you’re already there.” Jack Valentine

Because telling Braxton, he could rest either was an act of mercy or a fucking crime. I’ll tell the story of when I placed his water next to him. Braxton walked to its usual place. When he was dying, he wouldn’t sleep in the car. Braxton wouldn’t even lie down, not my son. Braxton fought for every single second of his life and what he wanted was to come home. Sometimes I’ll move his favorite toy to his spot on the bed, to the couch. I’ll keep it on my lap. Braxton was preparing me for “Times Like These.” I dreamt I was John Wick and Braxton was nowhere to be found. I slept longer, hoping when I woke… “Life finds a way;” “stuff and thangs.” Go To Bed B.

110 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 317 ~Ask Your Mother B~

Instead of looking for the perfect woman, the goddess, I’d like to think of a girl that would love Braxton as much as I do. I’m already crying enough for two, so let some woman kick my ass for what happened to him. “Ask Your Mother B.”

Friday, May 14, 2021

Gospel 317 ~Ask Your Mother B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and it’s because I’m “creative,” or I like to think. Thinking about who Braxton’s Mom is.

She would have to be an early riser. I know I haven’t been the past few days. It’s going 8:30 AM about, which is super late for me. If there’s light in the sky, we walk him and me. Hell, I couldn’t even open the back gate a few days ago. It’s not me being sad, just the rain, hmm. Braxton would want her to be a better cook, not that he ever complained about mine. I can’t help wondering did all those McDonald’s fries have something to do with his passing. They last forever, you know. With all the food both B III and I shared, I killed him. Once again, I will never let go of that point. Then again, Mom blames herself.

Not that I would want Braxton’s Mom doing that. No, I am guilty. If she wants to blame me… It would be karma catching up to me. My Ma never blamed my “Father” for anything, and see how I feel about that man? To make B think the same of me, oh, that’s a crime, yep. On the other side of the equation, she’s not one of those “wait till your father gets home” types. Shall I imagine such love like my wife being here, and B runs from her to greet me? He chose me over everyone. He loves our kids, loves his Mom, but it’s Dad. I’m back. It took his death to turn me away from boobs, but my life… his world.

Only one woman outside the family held his sway, and that’s my second best friend. I’ve said before how she had to let him walk all over her, sharing four months of food and treats. There was a cake for his birthday and presents. Braxton’s party was an incredible time. His last days though… no Braxton, I’ll carry you, I’ll get you more water, I’ll help you. If any mother could do better, I would welcome that rather than him dying in my arms ever. Ask your Mom to save you even if you hate me for the rest of your life, son. Men save gods all the time; that’s why they’re not gods. Dog spelled backward, and Mother is God. Ask Your Mother B.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 310 ~Will Of The B-Cells~

To think that the moment of Braxton’s passing, “home” was the last place that I wanted to be. THEY say that home is where the heart is but with him being gone… It’s at least where I can say “whatever,” in peace. Will Of The B-Cells, no cure or escape

Friday, May 7, 2021

Gospel 310 ~Will Of The B-Cells~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, only I wish I could have bought Braxton that big house I promised. A yard, family…

I don’t know if you would consider Braxton lucky or like some military kid. Why does love always feel like a battlefield, as the song goes? Whether it be the two “homes” we had with my Olds and then this place, they did pay for; truth. My family’s home Sophia… Whatever do I call it now? Fuck you, ASM. My apologies Lady Sophia but whenever I say “whatever,” I’m set off by the ASM, and I won’t have him tell me how to speak again ever. Not that I’m doing much talking because I can’t even pretend that Braxton is listening anymore. Dammit, I should be ashamed of what I’ve let happen to B III’s home. I had an ant invasion; the backyard is wild. There is such filth everywhere.

Should I burst out with my best rendition of Michael Jackson’s Earth Song? Again I am sorry, Lady Sophia. I want to tell “Happy” stories of Braxton and me, but my hate has tainted everything. I would hold Braxton at night, and he was keeping my heart inside me, yeah. Now my heart died in a cage, and this broken man is all that remains. He didn’t look at this place as a Hell, a prison, or a trap. In these walls, he was safe with his Daddy despite everything. What is this? The third time I’m crying today because of those little eyes, hmm. The look that says, “Daddy can we go home?” It’s what he wanted, I keep telling myself, now smaller boxes.

There’s my urn pendant, the box that remains on my nightstand. The frame that shows our lives together. Please let Braxton be running along the Rainbow Bridge. My Braxton could be guarding the gates of Heaven or Hell. How about Braxton finding the eternal comfy spot. All it took was something inside him, killing him for five days, causing his chronic renal failure. I know it takes longer than that, but then there was the hatred that surrounded me. Love B shed and shared like so many hairs, Braxton saying, I will try to fix you. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t visit me. He can’t stand to see his Daddy like this, and I don’t blame him. This was his home, Will Of The B-Cells.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 303 ~Hello, Hello, Monsieur B~

Please say Hello to me… that’s after having such a nice dream. I’d forget it all if B III woke me up by running over my face, asking me for treats, or better if I had known something was wrong with him and been his Dad. Hello, Hello, Monsieur B.

Friday, April 30, 2021

Gospel 303 ~Hello, Hello, Monsieur B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I would wave goodbye to all of it just to say, Just Me, Baby B.

Sometimes I’ll say Good Morning Braxton when I walk into his room. The two of us weren’t AM people at all, Ha. There was a time when he would run over my head, eager to go out. Back with my Olds, it would be him barking. Then there’s “Medicine Time.” I’ve been thinking a lot about what THEY call The Golden Rule. I treat others how I would like to be treated. All I want in my life nowadays is peace and quiet. One more reason B III was perfect, we didn’t have to talk… we walked, and that’s how we knew we were ok. People think they are entitled to my voice… fuck people, especially the ASM. Braxton deserved the best version of me.

Now I shouldn’t say all people. Indiana Gone is my second best friend. I worry about M Anime. I still think about Cherry, Okay, even MILF Dos from time to time. But at the end of the day with Braxton, no matter what, I was always me. I got to say hello to myself finally. I could repeat the same stories about Braxton arriving in a monster’s hands. The time I caught him eating my breakfast. How about when he chose me as he jumped into the car? If I kept but one promise to my son, it was this. When I would leave, I told him I’ll be back. Do I look like The Terminator? Better you don’t answer that, my future being uncertain.

My favorite part of the day was crawling up the steps and seeing him. I would pet his head, hug him, let him jump all around, and then I’d ask, “you want to go outside?” Give me that moment forever. The Stairway to Heaven or The Rainbow Bridge, Braxton awaits. So here come the waterworks… Braxton’s last day and I dared to say Good Morning. The hello I gave him after the vet gave me the final prognosis on him, and I held him like we hadn’t seen each other in forever. I can even smell him. The brief moment after his death when the storm passed, there was such sunlight, Just Me, Baby B.

I’ve said hello in many ways. Hello, Hello, Monsieur B

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 296 ~The Battling Barker Braxton~

His bark is worse than his bite… God, how I miss that bark. Braxton may not have liked a bunch of people; I can count them up on one hand. He loved me, and the people that do are far less. B fought for me until the end. “The Battling Barker Braxton.”

Friday, April 23, 2021

Gospel 296 ~The Battling Barker Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I better be as Braxton can’t protect me from what has happened, will or won’t.

Back in B.B. (Before Braxton), when I was in high school, I would “pray” to have hell, someone to pray to at all. A friend to stand with me… though even with B III, I never got around to getting him registered or whatever. Fuck You ASM, I said WHATEVER!!! Pardon me, My Lady, anyway Braxton should have been an Emotional Support Animal. As the song goes, “so take a look at me now,” I’m going crazy. Although that could be the idea of a fight. I’m saying I won’t say YES, I won’t kowtow, back down, hit the ground. If I do, that overgrown, meathead, jock asshole will have to put me there, I swear. However, my first mistake was burying my best friend.

Well, no, B III is sitting on my nightstand, but you know what I mean. Speaking of black men that are threats to my safety, sanity, and self-worth, my “father.” I fought him once and lost but Braxton. My prince knowing, my dude’s in distress, jumping between us, my boy. He got kicked four feet high by my “father” into a wooden door. Braxton and I have shed the same blood in the same mud or across a kitchen floor, at least. Time to get my cry in on this Saturday, April 17. Braxton is forever my son, my brother, and my best friend. He showed such forgiveness, but when my “father” came by without me here, he sat in his bed very scared, waiting.

What I might miss the most as I sit here in bed is where he would be when I slept. I would wake up to see him on the foot of the bed on the corner, staring at the door. As I got going, he would come over, and after making sure I was okay, he would sleep; Daddy’s shift. As I confessed at some point, I’ve never woken up to a girl in the bed. Not in this house. The way Braxton and I would sleep back to back. How he’d guard the gate when we were at my Olds barking up a storm. “Remember who the real enemy is.” Braxton wouldn’t care if I was a hero or villain. The Battling Bard Braxton.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 289 ~B Gets The Girl~

“Tale As Old As Time Song As Old As Rhyme…” maybe not; it’s only been seventy-five days. I lost the “young” prince Braxton. I’d give the kingdom to have him back. Now I’m screaming at a lady yesterday for invading my space. B Gets The Girl.

Friday, April 16, 2021

Gospel 289 ~B Gets The Girl~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but instead of wanting to be the Prince, I’ll listen to B and be the Beast.

Now make no mistake, Braxton was a prince. Humans to dogs are owners, masters, kings, even gods but also best friends. With all the regrets of how I was nowhere near the best daddy to him. I am saddened by the fact that Braxton never made any doggy friends ever. Her name was Greta. I can’t remember what kind of dog she was, only that she and B were about the same height. We met her when we lived with my Olds (B III’s grandparents). I’d take him around the block, um, when it was “safer” being a black man.
Sorry, I don’t mean to get awfully political today. Anyway, so Greta would come up to say hello, and what do you think he did?

Braxton might not have been one with the furry chicks but my type of girls. I shouldn’t say that either; otherwise, she and I would have been together. For now, she remains my second BFF. I often said that the first girl that wins B’s heart I’d marry. Sorry, Braxton. Her name is Indiana Gone (not a fact, you know). While I was busy getting all handsy with the maid, B could not keep his paws off Indiana Gone. I’m sure I’ve told this story before how he hated her guts at first but like father like son. B Squared was one for her Yabbos. So here I am explaining to my son that he has to be a gentleman. Nope, he was a beast.

Only I would not let him, as Trevor Philips put it, “rut like beasts.” I swear, sometimes I felt like a pimp, people bugging us, wanting to buy him, and talking about breeding. The lowest offer for Braxton was $500.00, the highest $900. I should have gotten him a sister. Do you want to hear a confession? I’ve never got some “cuddy” in this house; my hand to God truth. We’re talking well… years. Now B Squared for all his barking, chasing, and then running from girls. Triple B was a virgin, and I didn’t have the heart to neuter. I’m continuing to line up regrets, no playmates, taking better care, and he never got to meet my new family.

Heaven… B Gets The Girl

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 282 ~Try And B Professional~

I said I didn’t want to tell a sad story. I hate my Day Job, but here I am to talk about B’s work experience. Hell, he took the one job that no other American wanted… when he loved me. 365 and 24/7, my Chihuahua would Try And B Professional

Friday, April 9, 2021

Gospel 282 ~Try And B Professional~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but Hell, my “father” only wanted me to get a job, and I can’t be mad.

Braxton would be these days. Literally, because the grass is poking his “whanger” while running the fence. I should never forget how great a teacher B III is. Did you know “whanger” is the U.K. equivalent of wanger, which is how I spelled the word originally? As for my son himself, I wish I could find all the rules he taught me. One of my favorites being “legs, breasts, and thighs are best in a bucket of chicken.” I continue to admit I hate math all these years, which is why I’m burning through wealth like there’s no tomorrow, if only. How do I learn to live without him? Last night I forgot to call him for “medicine time” damn, wrestling was on. My bad…

I’ve been thinking that Braxton had to become a mad scientist. His little body became a lab for god knows his schedule for taking his meds, the food he ate, and the water. I want to tell happy memories, but could a fucking water filter have saved him? I don’t care if he was a Trump supporter. Isn’t that weird coming from someone who originates from Mexico? I’m sure B III himself was born in the USA. He believed in our border wall, e.g., our gates. He hated nearly everyone, and he loved Black People, me, the family, Indiana Gone. Then why did he leave me all alone? My moods, I tell you, Lady Sophia, but Braxton was the best therapist, counselor, and dear friend.

People don’t believe me, but when I was sick and taking too long in the bathroom, he’d carry a blanket over to the door and cry. He would lie with me and lick my hand when I was unwell. When I was “hurt,” he would lie on that body part wishing it better, my kid. He was an expert cuddle buddy; I still miss our back-to-back formation, on guard even in sleep, good and bad. He must have figured I would drown one day, the way he called me out of the shower, so I can add lifeguard to his resume. With all the NaNoWriMo’s I’ve done, he is also a co-author. Today still unpublished.

I killed his book character. I’ll Try And B Professional.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 275 ~Learning To Speak Braxton~

I didn’t want to tell a sad story. Every day being the worse day of my life at the Day Job, I need to remind myself. Braxton saying goodbye was the day. Next would be me saying hello, but that’s another story. Learning To Speak Braxton is today’s yep

Friday, April 2, 2021

Gospel 275 ~Learning To Speak Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I don’t speak stupid and lies “Trump” or world ruler as Bezos. I speak Braxton.

Or perhaps I “spoke” Braxton? No, it’s been two months, and if I stopped calling out to him, as the song goes, The Sound of Silence. Indeed M Anime is trying her best. She wants me to learn Spanish. A great man once taught “listen to the woman,” truer words… Learning to speak Braxton was a lot easier. Pretty girls and furbabies, and then I wonder why I’m not much of a man. Well, the man who was supposed to teach me such. He said that every word that came out of my mouth was STUPID. B thought it scripture. We started talking the same way we stopped, holding him and saying it would all be okay. Was that a lie? I’m not that bad.

Now I’ve been over hello and goodbye; how many times? How about “you’re safe?” For him, it would be sitting at the foot of the bed, staring at the doorway, keeping watch. To say it back, I would lift Braxton up, butt against one arm, his two front legs supported. My son saying he was hungry was a language all its own. Usually, it would involve his “Undiscovered” appetite making a comeback. In the form of him lying in the den waiting for fries. A quick spin and him leading me to his bathroom pad. How about, can’t bark now eating. Hell, I told people a lot that at least when B III was barking, he was helping me out. People only breathe to talk.

I Love You. How most people waste those words? Love, loyalty, the idea of “If I lay here If I just lay here.” Braxton spoke of love every day, so how could I not do likewise. Now it’s piling up. Today I looked up plenty on grief and love, but how Braxton and I spoke?
In our last conversation, him standing on the seat as always, refusing to lie down. “I’m fine, Daddy, let’s go home, everything’s good, I’m a good boy. As I cried over him, telling him I was sorry, I tried, I love him. The last look he gave me as I held him, one word, WHY? Only know you love him when you let him go.

Still Learning To Speak Braxton

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will