Page 301 of Invisible Bars
“S-sometimes I still feel like that little girl… shaking, apologizing for just being.”
She gave my hand a gentle squeeze, her grip both reassuring and empowering.
“Ain’t nothing wrong with being shaken, as long as you don’t break.”
A brief silence hung in the air, thick with unspoken feelings.
“But now it’s time to let go of the part that’s still holding on to that pain,” she urged softly. “You gotta forgive them... your parents, baby.”
A pressure rose behind my ribs, fluttered in my chest like wings too big for the cage.
“Forgive a thorn bush! Hug it and smile, why don’t you?! Hah—okay, okay…”
Nana Li raised her brows, wisdom shining in her gaze.
“I didn’t say you had to talk to them or welcome them back. But if you don’t let go of what they did, it will keep choking you. Forgiveness isn’t about reconnecting; it’s about releasing. Naji, you’re walking around carrying a weight they don’t even know they gave you. That ain’t fair to you, sugar.”
Tears began to slip unbidden down my cheeks, each one a memory of pain and unresolved feelings.
She rose and moved behind me, placing her hands gently on my shoulders, just like she used to when she'd pray over me before school.
“You don’t owe nobody a relationship… but you owe yourself peace. So give it to yourself.”
As her voice started to fade into a soft whisper, I fought to cling to the moment. “I love you, Naji.”
A lump rose in my throat. “I love you too… so much. Will I… will I see you again?”
Nana Li smiled with that quiet knowing, like she already had the answer to everything I hadn’t figured out yet. But instead of responding directly, she just touched my cheek—warm and weightless.
As the kitchen began to dissolve around me, I strained to hold onto her, the warmth of her embrace a lifeline in the unraveling dream.
Before the world disappeared completely, I heard her voice one final time, a parting gift that echoed in my heart: “And Naji, that husband of yours… I like him. Don’t push him away when it gets hard. You deserve love that stays. But let him know I’m watching. And if he ever acts up, his keys are gonna stay lost for life. And please, wear clean drawers, just in case y’all end up in somebody’s ER from all that swingin’ and flippin’ y’all be doing. Now, go live your life, baby… whole and free.”
And then… I woke up.
My breath felt shaky, a tremor running through me as my fingers tightened around the soft fabric of the blanket. My eyes stung from the tears that still lingered, a bitter reminder of the emotions I had been holding back. I lay there, motionless, staring up at the ceiling.
After a long moment, I whispered, “Okay…”
I understood what I needed to do. I wouldn’t carry that pain like an unwelcome part of my being any longer. No more letting fear constrict the love that I had fought so valiantly to preserve in my heart.
The Mississippi sun poured down gentle and gold, painting my old house in light like it was being born again.
Seven months… that’s how long the renovations took.
A house that once felt like a ghost, now stood tall, whole, and proud again. The chipped paint had been sanded down and refreshed to match the color it always wore, that soft, warm red. The porch no longer creaked under pressure. The steps were new but built to the exact measurements that my grandfather had left behind. The screen door still squeaked just a little. Imanio had wanted to replace it, but I told himno—some sounds didn’t need fixing.
The roof was brand new, the kitchen was redone, and the plumbing was tighter than ever. But thefeelingof the house? That stayed the same. I kept the wallpaper in the hallway—the one with faint roses climbing up toward the ceiling. It didn’t make sense to strip everything away just because it got old.
When I first came back, I wasn’t expecting anything to be touched, much less maintained. But the grass had beentrimmed, the hedges low and neat. A note was taped to the rusted mailbox.
"Figured somebody had to take care of it. Hope you don’t mind”. – Mr. Lacy (next door)
I had knocked on his door the same day, hugged his old bones, and thanked him with tears in my eyes.
He said,“Your granny and Papa raised you right. It didn’t feel right letting their house go wild.”
I stood by the porch swing, gently swaying in place, one hand resting on the soft curve of my belly. I am nine months pregnant, and I can feel every bit of that weight—especially today. My body aches, slow and low, but I haven’t said a word to Imanio. He was sitting nearby, watching me like he could sense things before I did. If I mentioned even the tiniest pain, he would likely scoop me up and drive me to the nearest hospital just to make sure the baby wasn’t on the way. He’d been that way my entire pregnancy—protective, present, patient. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner… a better forever.
