Book Excerpt One:

. . . It was Wednesday, September 15, 1993, at 7:15 a.m. My parents had only been gone a few days when the phone rang. As I picked it up, it was my dad’s screaming voice on the other end.

“Something is wrong with your mother!”

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I don’t know, but something’s wrong!”

“What are you talking about? Where’s Mama?”

“She’s in bed, and something is wrong with her skin! She needs a doctor, she needs a doctor now!”

I was totally confused. I didn’t understand what my dad was talking about, and honestly, I did not want to hear it. I thought, what now, God, what now? We can’t handle anything else, not now! I wanted to hang up the phone and tell myself he was exaggerating. But I knew I had to figure out what was going on. I tried to pull myself together.

“Daddy, why does Mama need a doctor?”

“Because her skin has a hole in it!”

“Where does her skin have a hole in it?”

“On her breast!”

“What?!”

Finally mom picked up the phone. She calmly told me daddy was overreacting.

“What’s wrong, Mama?” I demanded.

“Nothing,” she said.

“Then what is daddy talking about? Why is he so upset?”

“He saw a cut on my skin while I was sleeping, and because he hadn’t seen it before, it upset him.”

My head was pounding and my voice was shaking. “What kind of cut, Mama?”

She promised she would go to the doctor and call me later. I hung up the phone and tried to let go of the sound of my dad’s voice, but his terror was too much to ignore. I felt like I had run head-on into a brick wall. I was temporarily paralyzed. My mind was reeling, and I thought: This cannot be happening!

Normalcy. I wanted normalcy. I wanted my life back—back to the way it was before Delores got sick. I wanted to go home with my husband. I wanted happiness back, for myself and for my whole family.

Book Excerpt Two:

We were in trouble, and I wanted to save our marriage. Even though we attempted damage control, it just wasn’t enough. Though our love was strong, sometimes love is not enough. We were in a rut. Nevertheless, Todd never neglected me. He did all the things a man should do for his wife (just like my dad). The problem was that I wasn’t feeling emotionally connected to him anymore. But no matter how I explained that to him, Todd didn’t understand my concerns. Telling him over and over again that I needed him to hear me, feel me, and reach for me was falling on deaf ears. I was wearing myself out expressing my needs. I knew Todd had to be exhausted too.

I grew weary of my efforts to convince Todd we needed help, so I finally decided I would just get some help for myself. I found a Christian marriage counselor and began seeing her every week. It was the best decision I ever made. It not only saved me; it would later save my marriage.

I walked into Dr. Karen Terry’s office for my first session expecting her to tell me everything I needed to do for myself, and everything I needed to do to get Todd to come to his senses. I wanted her to be the black-and-white-shirted referee who blows the whistle and calls the game for my team. Boy, did I have a lot to learn! It was not her job to tell me what to do; it was her job to help me see things as they really were. To see me as I really was. It was painful and ugly, emotionally and mentally draining. I was forced to confront all the ways my childhood had shaped me as an adult. I had to face the fact that I was much more like my father than I had ever imagined. Over time, she helped me learn how to fix myself.

Book Excerpt Three:

Darkness greets me . . . my alarm clock, set as always for 3:30 a.m., jolts me. My internal alarm begs to differ. And the light of dawn that usually cheers early-morning commuters eludes me.

It’s five o’clock in the morning and the start of my day as a morning drive-show news anchor and radio personality for Radio One Columbus. I enjoy my job. My co-hosts are like family to me. I serve as Public Affairs Director for our station, and I love it. It affords me the opportunity to meet and develop lasting relationships with our community leaders. Community service requests pour in weekly. If I don’t check and clear my voicemail daily, it would fill up by the evening. I listen to every message; but I can’t say that I return all the calls.

Because I’m on the air every day, listeners feel like they know me personally. Along with requests to host or emcee community events, I receive countless invitations to attend family reunions, weddings, and graduations. Of course, some things touch me differently than others—and the touch of some things moves me more than others.

I’m asked to deliver a speech for the African-American Healthy Heart Luncheon, hosted by the Coalition of 100 Black Women. I am quite aware that heart disease is the number 1 killer among women. And most importantly, I feel that this disease is not in the forefront of our minds. It doesn’t receive enough media exposure.

I accept the invitation. I welcome the opportunity to help create awareness about heart disease because it relates to all women, and we should all be concerned. The organizers of the luncheon don’t mind that I can’t stay long; I promise to do my thing and then leave. They’re just delighted that I can make it.

One month later on February 23, 2005, during Go Red Month, I stand here speaking before a sea of black women in solidarity—all so beautifully decked out in red. I share the story of my family history of breast cancer, along with the work I do to support research and awareness about this grave disease. But because breast cancer is the greatest health scare for most women, I believe heart disease is not recognized as the deadly killer it can be. As devastating as breast cancer is, I want the women in attendance to understand the very serious threat of heart disease. Even though I’m pressed for time, I don’t leave early. I wind up staying until the end, and I learn a great deal from the doctor conducting the lecture. He discusses maintaining a healthy heart and preventative care.

As I leave the luncheon and head to my next appointment, I so appreciate the light of this heart-filled day. What a great day!

Thank God . . . I cannot see what lies just around the corner.