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- Herausgeber: Soul Scholar Press
- Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
- Sprache: Englisch
Have you ever met a man who died five times? Everybody Loves the Sunshine is the fictional autobiography of Elijah Williams. A man born into the chaos of the crack era of the 90s in Oakland, California. Through that chaos, Elijah has had to fight not only for his survival but also for his sanity. In his journey, he has learned about what it takes to be a man and how to recognize our connection to each other and all life on Earth. His journey through tragedy and triumph has made him the man he is today. A man who has transcended darkness and was reborn with a light that shines from within like the rising of the sun. Elijah's story is more than the story of a kid who grew up in the hood, or a man who died and came back to life. His is the story of a kid who found hope when there was none and a man who found purpose against all odds.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023
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Everybody Loves the Sunshine preview
Mo' Baltimore and Antoinne The W[ri{gh}t]er
Published by Soul Scholar Press, 2023.
While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.
EVERYBODY LOVES THE SUNSHINE PREVIEW
First edition. November 18, 2023.
Copyright © 2023 Mo' Baltimore and Antoinne The W[ri{gh}t]er.
Written by Mo' Baltimore and Antoinne The W[ri{gh}t]er.
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Everybody Loves the Sunshine: A Witness of Life, Death, Survival, Strength, and Balance
Mo' Baltimore and Antoinne The W[ri{gh}t]er
Published by Soul Scholar Press, 2023.
While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.
EVERYBODY LOVES THE SUNSHINE: A WITNESS OF LIFE, DEATH, SURVIVAL, STRENGTH, AND BALANCE
First edition. November 18, 2023.
Copyright © 2023 Mo' Baltimore and Antoinne The W[ri{gh}t]er.
Written by Mo' Baltimore and Antoinne The W[ri{gh}t]er.
––––––––
Everybody Loves the Sunshine:
––––––––
A Witness of Life, Death, Survival, Strength, and Balance
Mo’ Baltimore
&
Antoinne The W[ri{gh}t]er
Table of Contents
Chapter 1: Chaos Born
Chapter 2: Days in Oaktown
A Chronicle of Strength
Chapter 3: Ever-Present Evil
Chapter 4: Warrior. Culture.
A Chronicle of Death and Survival
Chapter 5: The Good ‘Ole Boys
Chapter 6: Collision Course
A Chronicle of Life
Chapter 7: Ashes to Ashes
Chapter 8 Part One: Trigger Warning
A Chronicle of Balance
Chapter 8 Part Two: Chaos Ends
Chapter 9: Redemption Quest
Chapter 10: Ever-Present. Elijah.
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Chapter 1: Chaos Born
11/21/1981-11/21/1983
It’s Hip-Hop. I’m going to start there. If you were born in the 1900s you might remember a time when there were booklets in cd cases that had the lyrics to each song written in them. We already know that songs tell stories. So what if each song on an album was a different chapter? If you were like me you read the lyrics in those little booklets as you were listening to a freshly opened cd with that cellophane smell lingering in the air, and if you were like me, you could easily get swept away by the experience as if you were taken away by the pages of a book. When the best storytellers I know put pen to paper it was Poetry that Powered The People. Hip-Hop, the word, didn’t have a word at its birth. What came before the word was the feeling. The Vibe. The Love. The Unity. The feeling of Freedom Thee. Hip-Hop. I Am Free. I Am I and We. The Vibe. Divine. The Beats & Rhymes. Breakers hit the floor, Emcees’s Bust-a Rhyme. The vibe in the air was all clear, “We mean no harm it's all love here.” At the root it was about having a place to be yourself in a world that wants you to be no one. Decades since its birth the word Hip-Hop could mean many things to many people. That’s what the storied history of culture does. I only know what it means to me. It’s a means of storytelling. Fly-ass storytelling, but storytelling, nonetheless. The vibration of the world's greatest storytellers. I won’t jump out there and say I’m a storyteller, but I know how to catch The Vibe, and I damn sure know how to tell a good story. Word.
From what I know you only need to answer 6 questions to tell a story.
Who?
What?
When?
Where?
Why?
How?
And so, the first question.
Who? Who am I?
To speak plain, and truthful I will keep it simple, and clear. I am a man, raised by a man, raised by a man, who was taught how to be a man, by a man. I am born in a long line of Black men who were anything but what you're used to seeing as the typical portrayal of Black fathers. I know my father as a man who did all in his power to live robustly in his fatherhood. His name is Chauncey Williams. Still, the first question was “Who am I?” The “I" being, the teller of this story.
We, humans, think we’re the only species on the planet that shares stories. We may be the only species that keeps records of events past and sing the songs of history, but we are not the only species that keeps an account. The matriarch of a herd of elephants carries knowledge dating back as far as 50 years and knows the landscape and patterns of the monsoon season so well that she knows exactly where to lead the herd for freshwater every season. If you observed a polar bear traversing the cold and unforgiving lands of the north, you would see her teaching her young cub how to search for food to survive. Humans are no different. The telling of a story ensures that knowledge carries from the obscurity of the past, into the unknown of the future. When it comes to storytelling, I would say that I am less of a storyteller and more of a witness with a story to tell.
The stories of all beings begin with birth. Since I wasn’t there, I can only tell that part of the story as it was told to me.
Once upon a time, not long ago...
The maternity ward of Kaiser Oakland Medical Center was quiet. 4 a.m. on a Saturday morning. Dr. Sanjeev Gauntry enjoys the quiet as he sits at his desk sipping a coffee. The phone sitting on his desk rings. When he answers, he's greeted with a far less serene scene than his own. He can hear on the other side of the phone, Roxé Anne Jones, his patient, is writhing in pain. She, and her boyfriend Chauncey Williams, were at the hospital the day before. She was having pain, but by her standards, the pain was mild enough for her to go home, even against the doctor's orders. Concerned about her condition, Dr. Gauntry gave them the direct number to his office. Roxé Anne only chose to leave because she doesn't like hospitals. She didn't want to be in, or around one, any longer than she had to be. Now, she regrets that choice.
"It's bad Doc. Oh sorry, this is Chauncey Williams, with your patient Roxé Anne Jones," he says.
Dr. Gauntry can hear the stress in Chauncey's voice and he keeps him focused.
"Yes, and how far apart are her contractions?" Dr. Gauntry asks in a calm yet assertive manner.
This experience is new for Chauncey, but for Dr. Gauntry it's par for the course.
"About 5 minutes," Chauncey responds, his voice stressed.
"Listen to me Mr. Williams, you need to get her here as quickly as possible. I will have my team ready to meet you in the emergency room. This is important. Her contractions are close together, which means she will feel the need to push. You must do your best to keep her from doing so, distract her however you can. Do you think you can do that Mr. Williams?" says Dr. Gauntry.
"Yes. I think I can do that," says Chauncey, unsure of his answer.
"How long will it take you to get here?" asked Dr. Gauntry.
"About 20 minutes, 15 without traffic, maybe," says Chauncey.
"Good," responds Dr. Gauntry. "As I said, my team will be waiting for you when you arrive."
"Thanks, Doc," Chauncey says.
Chauncey hangs up the phone before even knowing whether Dr. Gauntry responded to him.
"We gotta get you to the car babe," says Chauncey.
"I can't! I can't!" Roxé Anne says, consumed by pain to the point where she can hardly stand on her own.
"Yes, you can. Come on, I'm gonna help you. All we have to do is get to the car and I can take it from there," says Chauncey.
He braces her on him, taking almost her full weight on himself. His only focus is getting her to the car. It takes all their combined effort to get from their small one-bedroom apartment in West Oakland to their car. When they arrive at the car Roxé Anne leans against it. Chauncey ruffles in his pocket searching for his keys. Right pocket, empty. Left pocket, once again, no keys.
"Shit. Shit." Chauncey says.
"What?!" asks Roxé Anne with every bit of pain in her voice.
"Babe," Chauncey says nervously.
"Did you forget the fucking keys, Chauncey?!" says Roxé Anne, understandably upset.
"I forgot the keys, yes, but remember, I was going to go back to get the bags anyway so I can just grab the keys too on the way back," Chauncey says knowing there is little chance his words were enough to console her.
"Hurry the fuck up!" shouts Roxé Anne.
He wastes no time going back to the apartment. When he gets to the door he’s washed over with a sense of panic.
"Please don't be locked," he says as he reaches for the doorknob.
He almost expected resistance from the doorknob as he reached for it, but when he turned it, he was relieved to find that it was left unlocked.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he says with great relief.
He rushes into the apartment, grabs the baby bag, Roxé Anne's overnight bag, and this time, the keys. He exits the apartment and locks the door behind him. His only focus now is getting back to the car. He returns to Roxé Anne, who is clearly in the worst pain she's ever felt in her life, still standing by the car. She sees Chauncey approaching.
"The fuck took you so long!" says Roxé Anne, her patience already thin, has worn.
"I'm sorry it didn't even feel like I was taking that long," says Chauncey.
"Just open the fucking door, Chauncey!" says Roxé Anne who literally has no time right now.
With his attention focused on sorting throught the keys he places the baby bag on the roof of the car. He finds the right key, opens the car door, helps her sit down, and hands her overnight bag to her. Finally, there's relief for her from standing if nothing else. He closes the door and rushes to the driver's side of the car, gets in, starts the car, and they are off. Chauncey didn't realize that he left the baby bag on top of the car until a few minutes later when it fell on top of the hood of the car after they were stopped by a red light. He gets out of the car, grabs the bag, throws it in the backseat, and waits for the light to change.
"What are you waiting for? There's nobody out here. Just run the fucking light!" shouts Roxé Anne.
Thankfully, the light turns green right at that moment and Chauncey continues driving.
"I'm going to get us there as fast as I possibly can babe," says Chauncey.
"Stopping at lights at 4 am when nobody is on the road is NOT as fast as you can!" says Roxé Anne.
An intensely sharp pain suddenly hits her, and she groans louder.
"I have to push! I have to push!" Roxé Anne screams.
"Roxé Anne you can't push. The doc said you can't push until we get there," Chauncey says calmly.
"I have to!" Roxé Anne shouts.
"No. Y-You. Roxé Anne, you can't," Chauncey says now trying to think of anything to distract Roxé Anne from her pain.
"Do you remember the first time we met" Chauncey asks Roxé Anne.
"What are you even talking about right now?" Roxé Anne asks Chauncey with very little patience for wherever he is trying to go with this question he seemingly pulls out of nowhere.
"Do you remember? That day?" asked Chauncey.
Suddenly the memories of the day they met poured into her mind.
"Of course I remember," Roxé Anne responds once again with little patience.
It was a warm and sunny spring day on the 19th of June at Grove Shafter Park located under the interchange between the Grove Shafter Freeway and the MacArthur Freeway. The thing most people love about that park is that no matter how hot a day gets, it's right under the overpass, so there's always shade from the sun. On this particular day the sun itself made a visit to Oakland to hang out with the people attending a community event being held by The Black Panther Party. What people mostly remember of The Black Panther Party is their political influence or even the controversial events that led to the death of men who carried some of the most prominent names associated with The Party.
What they don't always remember is how many people were fed by them. They had breakfasts for the children of the neighborhoods that were undervalued and cookouts for the community where anyone who heard about the event was invited. This was one of those days.
Roxé Anne’s younger cousin Judith told her about it and since Roxé Anne didn't have much else to do that day, she and her 4-year-old son Edward tagged along. Judith knew Chauncey because she was a student in one of his classes. At that time Chauncey was close to earning degrees in literary pursuit and was able to pick up a gig as a substitute teacher. Usually, when there's an event coming up that The Party was hosting, he'd let the kids know.
He joined the Oakland chapter not too long after he started school for his degrees in English and Psychology at Lincoln University. With his school located right in downtown Oakland, he couldn't help but immerse himself into the local culture. Living in, and falling in love with the city, he found himself joining The Black Panther Party.
According to government records, The Party officially ceased operation in 1976. Unofficially, The Panthers have to this day continued to serve the community as was intended by its founders in Oakland. As a teacher, Chauncey was already making a difference in the community. After all, who makes more of a difference in a person's life, than a teacher? So when his path led him to join The Party, for him, it just seemed like the natural next step. His drive to be impactful is what led Roxé Anne across his path on that fateful day.
Judith finds Chauncey as he is tending to one of the grills.
"Hey mister Williams," Judith says to Chauncey, making her presence known.
"Judith, hey glad you could make it," Chauncey says with his focus primarily on the grill in front of him.
Until he sees Roxé Anne.
At that time in his life, he probably hadn't seen anyone who was as strikingly beautiful as Roxé Anne Jones, Redbone Roxy is what he would later find out people around the way called her.
"Do you remember what you were wearing that day?" Chauncey asks Roxé Anne as he's driving her to the hospital.
He was hoping that the question was enough to pull her out of her unbearable need to push, and into the memories of the day they met each other 2 years ago.
"Why are you asking me this Chauncey? Just please shut the fuck up!" says Roxé Anne.
"You were wearing that onesie, right?" says Chauncey.
"It wasn't a onesie, it was a romper," says Roxé Anne.
Having any question about her sense of fashion was exactly the thing that Chauncey needed to take her mind elsewhere, even if it was only for a moment.
The cheetah print romper Roxé Anne is wearing compliments her fair skin almost as if she had the same awareness in 1979, of how good animal print looks on black women, that Twitter would come to realize, and admire, many years later. Chauncey, noticing her tall slim physique, couldn’t stop himself from taking a glance at the one thing that usually catches the attention of most Black men. He wipes his hands clean with a towel hanging from his belt and extends his hand to Roxé Anne. One of Chauncey’s most defining characteristics is that he is a man who lives in the moment, and he certainly wasn't going to let this one go by without introducing himself.
"Hello. I'm Chauncey," he says.
Roxé Anne extends her hand to receive his.
"Roxé Anne," she says.
"Yeah, that's right, the romper. I'll never forget it," says Chauncey.
"I'll never forget that stupid hat," says Roxé Anne.
"What do you mean stupid hat? That's our hat. That's what we wear," Chauncey says in his defense.
"I know that's the hat The Black Panthers wear, but it still looks stupid on you," says Roxé Anne.
Chauncey chuckles.
"Well, I think it looks good on me," Chauncey says.
He's less offended by her opinion of the hat as he is slightly more relieved at how the memories of the first day they met were able to bring her out of herself long enough to give them time to get to the hospital without her trying to push.
Back at the maternity ward, Dr. Gauntry has informed nurses of the arrival of Roxé Anne. Nurse Candice Amos, the head nurse of the unit, was told about Roxé Anne's condition, that she was at the hospital earlier with pain, and that the child has yet to flip into the proper birthing position, meaning he's likely to be born breech (feet first), and he is OP (face down). The baby was in the worst possible position for a successful birth, and to add, the ultrasound has revealed that the umbilical cord is wrapped around his neck. With so much together working in favor of a fatal birth, Dr. Gauntry would rather not take any chances and has asked Candice to prep the OR for an emergency C-Section. As a doula, she understands not only the physical stress of the birthing process but also the emotional toll it can have on a woman if they aren't guided through the process in a way that is healthy for both the mother and the child. She grabs hold of an Isis pendant hanging from her necklace and says a silent prayer as she centers herself in preparation for the coming moments where she knows that there will be no time to think or pray.
Chauncey and Roxé Anne arrive at the hospital. His relief for being able to keep her distracted long enough to make it before she continued to push was immeasurable. The emergency room staff was also informed and waiting for their arrival. At once they were escorted to a room in the maternity ward. Moments after arriving at the room nurse Candice walks in and introduces herself.
"Hello, I'm Candice Amos, but you can call me Candie. I'm going to be your attending nurse today and I'm just here now to prep you for surgery," says Nurse Candie.
"For surgery, already?" Chauncey asks with concern.
"Yes. Dr. Gauntry has decided given the circumstances that the best course of action would be a cesarean delivery, he will be here in a moment to go through it with you in detail," says Nurse Candie.
Nurse Candie's energy while prepping Roxé Anne and answering any other questions that arise as she does so, is comforting in very unexpected ways to both Roxé Anne and Chauncey. As a skilled nurse Candie is fully aware of her presence as a source of calm for them both. When Dr. Gauntry arrives, they discuss the procedure and any possible complications. After all is said and done, they find that the baby boy had plans of his own. Another ultrasound revealed that the child had already entered the birth canal and that his spine was near where Dr. Gauntry would have to make his incision for the c-section.
Choices, where the outcome is certain, are easy to make and require almost no thought. When the outcome is uncertain, the better one’s resolve, the better one can surrender to the choice and hope that the right one was made with the information presented. The information they have, they've already gone over when they were certain about their next move, but now that uncertainty has arisen, they have to go over it all one more time.
The child is OP, breech, and the ultrasound shows that the cord is still wrapped around his neck, and now there is the complication involving him being in a position where the wrong incision could end his life before it gets started. There were a lot of choices that were going to be made in the coming minutes, and the child isn't going to give anyone much time to make them. The choice that is the best to keep the child alive is the only choice that matters, and right now, that choice must be the natural birth.
On the Twenty-first Day of November, in the year 1981, Elijah Williams came into this world bearing his soles, but he was nowhere near out of peril.
Dr. Gauntry hoped when he chose his profession, he would play a key role on the stage of bringing life into the world. When he witnessed the miracle of birth with his firstborn child, he knew then the only place for him to be was in the room where life itself is born. He considered himself an usher of souls and his work made him feel as if he was part of something bigger than himself. What he hadn’t fully realized at the beginning of his journey, being a part of bringing life into the world, meant he would be a part of bringing death into it as well. Today, Dr. Gauntry understands that it could very well be one of those latter days. With his resolve he would do all he could at hand to ensure that it was not.
"Roxé Anne. I need you to listen to me very carefully," Dr. Gauntry speaks in a firm, matter-of-fact tone.
Roxé Anne, who can hardly focus on anything except other than her searing pain, places every ounce of energy she has into paying attention to Dr. Gauntry’s guidance, knowing full well any level of attention that she can muster for her doctor, means life or death for her baby boy.
"In a moment, I need you to push, gently. We need to see where the cord is before we can move any further after this first push," says Dr. Gauntry.
The only word Roxé Anne heard past her pain was “push” so, against his instruction, she pushed, and she pushed hard.
"No, no, no, Roxé Anne, don't push yet," Dr. Gauntry asserts.
"Don't push yet honey," Nurse Candie says calmly.
"You have to stop pushing babe," Chauncey says, trying to stay in the moment despite how fast things are moving.
For Roxé Anne once she starts pushing, it is almost impossible to stop. Dr. Gauntry and his team wait a moment for her to stop pushing. The moment she does they spring to action. Roxé Anne's push brought Elijah to his waist. The ultrasound shows that the umbilical cord is still wrapped around his neck and has tightened.
"I need the forceps," requested Dr. Gauntry, "Roxé Anne, now that he's coming out, I'm going to turn him," he says.
"Okay," Roxé Anne says.
"This is very important, while I'm turning him you cannot push. Okay?" says Dr. Gauntry.
"Okay," Roxé Anne responds once again, barely able to speak.
"This is going to feel very uncomfortable, but just try to bear with me. Okay?” says Dr. Gauntry.
"Okay," says Roxé Anne, bracing herself for discomfort.
Dr. Gauntry takes the forceps and turns Elijah counterclockwise, in hopes of loosening the hold of the umbilical cord.
"Okay, Roxé Anne, I need you to push but-" Dr. Gauntry begins.
Roxé Anne once again only hears the word “push'' and doesn't wait for the rest of Dr. Gauntry's words. This time he was ready and didn't instruct her to stop. Chauncey, unable to say a single word, holds tightly to her hand. Monitors begin beeping. The umbilical cord is choking Elijah. In his resolve, Dr. Gauntry looks at the ultrasound and sees how before her last push, Roxe Anne’s ultrasound showed the cord was unraveling in the opposite direction.
Dr. Gauntry has grown intimate with the value of remaining uncertain. In uncertainty, there is no comfort. When uncertainty is embraced, the mind finds clarity, even in severity. The uncertainty of each passing moment generously supplies Dr. Gauntry the clarity he would need for each approaching choice. Throws and blows.
"Roxé Anne. I need you to stop pushing now," The firmness in Dr. Gauntry's voice alerts Chauncey, and finally, words come to him.
"Roxie, baby. You have to stop pushing," Chauncey says in the most supportive voice that he could find.
"Honey, I need you to stop pushing," says Candie.
Chauncey is becoming increasingly impressed by her ability to be firm yet remain calm. It was as if her resolve alone was enough resolve for everyone in the room.
When Roxé Anne hears the voices of Chauncey, Dr. Gauntry, Nurse Candie, and another attending nurse in the room, all seemingly at the same time telling her to stop pushing, she finds motivation somewhere within to stop. When she does, Dr. Gauntry doesn't waste a single moment turning Elijah clockwise, correcting, and unraveling the cord with certainty this time. Now, the rest of the show belongs to Roxé Anne, and as she has been for most of her life, she is ready to take center stage.
"Okay, Roxé Anne, I need you to," -
Once again she didn't need permission.
There is something about pain, especially at the height of it, that brings one closer to oneself, and the present moment, more than any other experience. Most things can be ignored, and some quite easy, but pain, no matter its source, is an experience that refuses ignorance. Feigning ignorance to pain only encourages it to announce itself with all the flare, pomp, and circumstance of an old-timey war letter.
My Dearest, Pinky Toe,
Good tidings, I hope this letter has greeted you well. I am sending this letter ahead to announce my return. I hope this news is expected, as you see, there was a slight miscalculation in step, as it happens, yet now you must understand that, although unfair it might be, since you have stubbed against the bedpost, you will feel as if you are going to explode, causing the rest of the body to shut down entirely, but not before releasing a shout loud enough to startle anyone within fifty yards. My most sincere apologies if I haven’t given you time to prepare for my arrival however our meeting will once again be short lived. Moments in your presence, in the time it takes for the rest of the foot to stumble a few steps until it doesn’t even hurt as badly, although ephemeral, are time honored. I hope my arrival will be greeted as well as this letter.
Sincerely,
Pain.
Roxé Anne’s pain reached heights that didn’t allow any choice other than recognize it and as she pushes through it, she gives life to a baby boy. The tension of the room was released. A new life, a new soul, a new journey begins. Chauncey found himself so relieved by the tension that his body somehow without permission of his own seemingly takes him over and does a cartwheel right there in the middle of the procedure room. As understanding of his excitement as Nurse Candie was, without losing her calming and present demeanor, doesn't hesitate for a single moment to escort him out of the room once he lands back on his feet.
"Dad, congratulations, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave now. We will let you back in once we have cleared the room. Thank you, and once again, congratulations," she says as she escorts him out of the room then closes the door behind her as she reenters.
Chauncey stands in front of the door unable to move in the blissfulness of fatherhood.
After pain has released its grasp, in its absence emerges unexpected wisdom. The kind of wisdom that only pain can produce. You learn, truly, of what you are capable. Surviving through the worst pain you’ve experienced informs you of the amount of pain you’re capable of surviving. When you look back on the most painful moments of your life and ask yourself how you survived them, even if that question is never answered, the knowledge that you did is enough. In the same fashion one appreciates clear skies after a storm.
At times wisdom emerges not only from one’s own experience of pain, but from witnessing the pain of another. Chauncey could only imagine the pain he witnessed Roxé Anne bear. What he experienced witnessing hers is pushing through our worst pain pushes us into our purpose and if we could hold on to that knowledge in life’s most painful moments, we may learn that finding value in the valley makes standing on the mountaintop that much more rewarding. And so, as he stands, and breathes, on the mountaintop of fatherhood, living in his purpose, the dawn rises, and everything inside of him shines with the light of a sunrise on a vast desert land as it sweeps away the resting shadows.
"She said, dad," he says to himself.
"She said, dad!" he says again.
Once again, almost as if he had no control of himself, he just starts doing cartwheels all through the hallways of the maternity ward of the Kaiser Oakland Medical Center. A son was born. One he could call his own. The legend of "the cartwheeling dad" is still a favorite tale among the nurses to this very day.
Elijah Williams didn't know it on the day of his birth, but this wouldn’t be the last day he would find sunshine and shadows vying for existence in his life.
A man must first learn, grow, and experience life as a boy. Every man must first see life from the eyes of a child. Live as a child, speak as one, before he can say he is a man. A man may one day be called a father, but a father must first be a son. Elijah’s name you already know. His mother, his father, you already know. Soon you’ll learn who I am.
Two months later, on a chilly winter night. Elijah was showing symptoms of what Roxé Anne and Chauncey thought was a common cold all night. Of course, as new parents, they were concerned but unfortunately what they know about having a cold is that it has to pass. They’d prefer Elijah not have to go through it at all during the first months of his life. They know themselves how miserable a cold can be even under the most favorable circumstances. Still, as with common colds, you must allow it to run its course. They thought Elijah only had a common cold. Two days pass and now Roxé Anne’s intuition is telling her this could be something more, motherly instinct if you will, a mother always knows. Her concern increases when she notices her son has developed a tremble on his left side. A cold is one thing, but a tremble is another. A tremble may be something serious.
