It Don't Have To Change

Oh do you remember (ooh)
When the family was everything? (ooh)
Oh do you remember? (ooh)


It seems like an eternity, but it was only two years ago when Kia and I spent Christmas down home in Millington, Tennessee. The snow was falling, the family, mines and hers, was all together. If you wanted to see what Christmas was supposed to be like, you should've been there. I mean that we had cocoa, presents, cobblers and turkey. It was right out of those cheesy movies, especially with the horrific snowman and reindeer sweaters we were all rocking.

I can still smell the cinnamon in the air and hear the laughter. Kia and I would always start off the dancing. It was The Ojays' "She Used to Be My Girl" that got us pumped up and ready. All I did was move my skinny hips to the beat and offer her my hand. She took it and we were off. Everybody would clap and slowly, but surely, join us on the living room floor.


It was so long ago and so much has changed (ooh)
I wanna go back (go back . . . ooh)
Wanna go back to those simple days (ooh)


Life was so much easier then. It was a time where everybody thought There's always tomorrow. . . . But I know better now. I feel somewhat guilty for not cherishing those moments just a little bit more. For not remembering every inside joke me and Kia shared in whispers at the dining room table.


I wanna go back (go back . . . ooh)


"Justin Randall, get your sticky fingers out of my cobbler!" I laughed as my nana swatted my hand away from the counter. I sucked the gooey peach filling off of my finger before planting a kiss on her cheek.

"It's so good though, Grams." She looked at me through the corner of her eyes and smiled at me. I grinned, happy that I got away with that, as I walked over to Kia. For a minute, I stood behind her and watched as she placed the dinner rolls on a baking pan. Her small hands delicately laid them out, making sure there was enough space between them so that they wouldn't form a gigantic blob when they expanded.

"If you're not helping, you're in the way." I smiled, surprised that she noticed my presence without me saying a word.

"How'd you know I was behind you?" I asked as I wrapped my arms around her and bent down to place my chin on her shoulder. I could hear her take in a deep breath.

"I could smell your cologne," she answered, "What is that? Essence of Sexy?" I chuckled and tried to stop the blush from forming on my cheeks. My lips gently grazed her ear.

"Take away the 'y'." My hands grabbed her ass, eliciting a tiny yelp from her. As I briskly walked away, my mother shot me a knowing look. I offered a wink and she rolled her eyes, causing me to laugh.


Times is hard (times is hard)
And things are a changin'


It's funny how things change. You blink and your perfect life, well, semi-perfect life, is instantly taken away from you.


I pray to God
That we can remain the same
All I'm trying to say is our love don't have to change
No it don't have to change


Laughter. That's what's been missing. I used to laugh all the time. Especially on that glorious Christmas Day. According to Josie, it was the best Christmas ever. It was the last one before Nana died. It was the last one before gramps died. It was the last one before all this shit with Kia happened. It was a blessing that I had that Christmas off. I really do think God planned it. With everything falling into place the way it did, somebody had to be helping it along.


Do you remember (ooh)
Back at Grannie's house on Christmas Day? (ooh)
Help me sing . . .
Do you remember (ooh)
How we'd gather 'round and sing all day? (ooh)


It was also the first time Josie was confident enough to sing for us. She had been so nervous about things. Granted, she wasn't Alicia Keys, yet, her voice was still great. She had apparently gotten that gene from me because Kia couldn't sing if her life. . . Nevermind.

Anyway, Josie decided to sing "Last Christmas.” With her red and green dress on, Mary Janes adorning her tiny feet, she stood in front of the tree. Everybody was sitting in front of her, all smiles and cheers. Her cheeks were rosy and her shy smile made her ten times cuter than normal. As her hands nervously ran down her dress, she cleared her throat and looked over at me.

"This is for daddy," she mumbled, "Because he gave me a hundred dollars to do this." Everybody laughed and Kia poked my side.

"I thought you talked to her," she smiled, "You bribed her?" I laughed, guilty as charged.

"I talked to her and then I gave her the money," I explained, "You know, just to seal the deal." Everybody laughed again and Josie began to sing.

"Last Christmas. . ." she began slowly, "I gave you my heart. . ." She paused, her nervousness coming over her.

". . . But the very next day you took it away. . . " my dad, Paul, added on as everybody began to clap out the beat.

" This year, to save me from tears, " Josie cut in, " I'll give it to someone special ." Before I knew it, Kia joined in and I was singing at the top of my lungs. Johnathan and Steve added a few lyrics and the whole family was singing in full swing by the time the second verse was on.


I wanna go back (go back . . . ooh)
To playing basketball and football games
I wanna go back (go back . . . ooh)
To yesterday but it's not the same


I do wanna go back to that time. A place where I thought, we were invincible. I have foundations that fund treatments and give toys to children with cancer. I've donated to cancer related charities, in hopes that one day a cure would be found to heal all people. It was a naive thought. To think, we all acknowledge our world's problems. Some give money, others time, to help the cause. But we never truly give a damn about it until we're right in the middle of all the drama. All the pain. All the hopelessness.

Nothing really matters until it affects us directly.


Times is hard (times is hard)
And things are a changin'
I pray to God
That we can remain the same
All I'm trying to say is our love don't have to change
No it don't have to change


And as I sit here, reminiscing about the good old days, I realize just how heartless I was. I threw a couple of thousands at a cancer patient's family and wished them luck when money wasn't even an obstacle. Illness doesn't care about social status, or gender. Relationships or previous engagements. Love or pain. It's blind and deaf, all it cares about is taking something over and never leaving until the person deteriorates.

I wish it had chosen someone else though. Maybe Saddam Hussein or a pedophile. You know, the evil, cold, and uncaring bastards of the world. It sounds harsh, but if I could move this cancer to my worst enemy, I would. Heaven knows that Kia would smack me if she ever heard me say that, but I'm just being honest. This whole thing isn't fair. None of it.

Kia just doesn't deserve this. Josie doesn't deserve to watch her mother slip away with every passing day. Our families and friends don't deserve to witness this. I don't deserve to only sleep for twenty minutes a night and spend the rest of the time crying my eyes out, trying to cope with this awful blue that's hoovering over my breaking heart.

I cried so badly before that I think I ran out of tears. My face and eyes were red. The shirt I had been wearing was soaked with my pointless tears, and I had a headache the size of China for hours. But I don't know why I wasted so much energy. It doesn't help anything. Yet, I still do it.


Times is hard (times is hard)
And things are a changin'
So I pray to God
That we can remain the same
All I'm trying to say is our love don't have to change
No it don't have to change


It's embarrassing, really. A grown ass man crying and sniveling like a small child. A bruise to my ego is what it is. You would think that crying would be refreshing and help me feel better in the end. But it doesn't alleviate the pain. At times, I think it makes it worse.

"Jay?" Kia's raspy voice grabs my attention. I look up from her hand, which is enveloped in mine, and softly tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, sweetheart?" Her eyes tiredly rolled about her head as she paused to catch a breath.

"Open. . .please," I watch as her hand gestures toward the window. I lay her hand down on the mattress and get up. I'm at the window now and I'm pushing the blinds aside. My eye catches a couple. The man is opening up the side door and, whom I assume to be his wife, is carrying a bundle of blankets. I smile as I see a tiny hand poke out, grabbing the woman's finger. New parents.

I sigh disappointedly as I silently become envious of what they have. Weakly, my hands push up the window, allowing some air and sounds from outside enter the room. I reluctantly pull away from the scene and make my way back over to Kia. Her hand finds mine, resting in it comfortably.

"Do you miss it?" Kia asked suddenly, breaking the silence in the room.

"Miss what?" Again, a deep breath enters her body before she exhales it slowly.

"The world. . ." She paused, "Life." Of course of missed it. Who would choose this hospital over living life?

"You are my life," I answered honestly, "And my world." Her eyes closed, as if my words were the most sensational things to ever pass her ears.

"I don't think," Another pause, "That you could be more beautiful." My eyes involuntarily watered and I smirked.

"Of course I couldn't," I joked, "All my ugly is stopping it." Kia smiled weakly, barely showing a bit of her pearly white teeth.

"You don't have an ugly bone in your body," Kia assured, "Someone will see that and love it." My brows furrowed.

"I don't care what anybody else loves. You're all that matters." My eyes shifted down to the wedding ring on her finger as my thumb thoughtfully ran over it.

"You can't accept it now," Kia explained, "But you'll move on. I want you to." I gave her hand a tiny squeeze.

"No, I won't," I protested, "There's no point in moving on. Nobody'll be like you."

"So what?" Kia questioned, "There's only one of everybody."

"Kia. . ."

"Justin. . ." Kia repeated, "I want you to." The sternness in her tone caused me to quiet down. She was too weak to fight me, and I wasn't going to allow her to waste her energy on this pointless argument.

"I love you. That's all that matters now," I whispered, "That's all that matters."