Making Amazing Journeys
Stories from the road where synchronicity meets soul,
and every mile sparks transformation.
Every time I travel, something extraordinary happens—out-of-the-ordinary moments, synchronicities, and lessons that remind me how deeply we’re all connected. These are not just travel stories; they’re life stories, and just maybe, they’ll spark something in your own journey too.
I was sent on a journey…
To write the stories of fatherlessness and the power of paternal reunion.”
Not my story alone, but the stories of seven lives, seven journeys, and the ripple effects of growing up without a father.
That journey became my book, MACnificently Made.
But let me be clear! This book is more than just stories about fatherlessness.
It’s the book you didn’t know you needed.
Don’t dismiss it just because you don’t personally identify with fatherlessness. The life lessons, resilience, and revelations inside are for all of us.
When I said yes to this assignment, I didn’t know it would heal my spirit, and open the door for others to tell their truths and begin their healing journey........
Family is Everything
#hallmarkmovies minus the snow...
I traveled back in time last weekend.
Sort of. Okay, no hot tub time machine, no DeLorean…but trust me, it felt like time travel.
Like most of my assignments, I was traveling solo.
For the first time in almost 40 years, I found myself back in a small Maryland town where my mother’s family name was known far and wide. I went to stand in for my mother, our family, as we honored the matriarch of her side, the Tilghman's. A name with roots, a legacy, and a whole line of people of service & phenomenal cooks.
On the drive down, I called my brother Walter Rankin and asked him what he thought I might discover on this journey. As usual, he offered his wisdom in that cool Walter-way: “It’ll reveal itself soon. Be safe, send photos.” And with that, he released the call.
I’ve written a book about the power of paternal reunion, but boy, did it come full circle for me as I headed south, down route 13/ DuPont Highway, asking myself, yet again: What’s the rest of my assignment? Why am I doing this alone? Where is everybody?
It was a beautiful Saturday morning. I was cruising in my upgraded rental (Thanks Enterprise). Farmland stretched out on both sides like an old Windows screensaver.
This was my first time attending
THE OFFICIAL ODUNDE FESTIVAL.
I took the opportunity to spend time with a looooonnngggg time bestie and a co-author of MACnificently Made Shaletta Kelly. And let me tell you, it was worth every minute.
I also got to hug my NYC Steppin fam-Martin Robert & Yvette White,—while navigating through a sea of beautiful people.
From the amazing vendors to the finger-licking food (seriously, my taste buds are still thanking me for the street corn on a stick), to the amazing people, the whole #jawn (event) was one giant “YES PLEASE and THANK YOU!” (Jawn: if you know, you know)
I was truly blessed when I sold the TWO copies of MACnificently Made (that I had in my purse) to Jay Books, an enthusiastic book vendor—what a highlight of the day! If you’re in Cowtown, Columbus (NJ) Flea Markets or Baltimore (MD) and need to get your hands on your own copy, just send me a message and I’ll make the connection!
The icing on the was to see Dougie Fresh (Doug E. Fresh) perform again. He served up a performance that had us feeling like it was 1985 again!
Yeah, we missed Rakim's performance(blame our epic search for authentic African food).
You know what: as a seasoned woman—meaning I no longer sign up for anything that involves standing in a giant mosh pit of sweat and selfies, due to... well y'all know why we don't do certain things when we get ummmm older...
Anyway...not once did I sense any of that “get me outta here” energy. The crowd flowed with good vibes and no drama and I for one was extremely grateful at the amount of times someone said oh I'm sorry, excuse me, you go first!
So you know what? I’ll be back.
Per Wikipedia
ODUNDE FESTIVAL: A one-day festival and street market that caters to African-American interests and the African diaspora. It is derived from the tradition of the Yoruba people of Nigeria in celebration of the new year according to the Yoruba calendar or Kọ́jọ́dá, which usually falls on the first moon of June (Òkudù) on the Gregorian calendar. It is centered at the intersection of Grays Ferry Avenue and South Street in the U.S. city of #Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
Spending quality time in the kitchen with my grandson turned into life lessons through baking.
Teaching him how to make 7-Up (Sprite) biscuits while watching #forever on Netflix we wove a dialogue of family, patience, perseverance, sports and relationships.
As the dough clung to his hands and the counter,
I asked him, “Whatcha gonna do now?”
His eyebrow raised in a questioning way, seeking guidance.
In so many words, I told him, “KNOW THYSELF” “Life is like this dough, sticky, unruly at first, but with patience and the right touch, more flour here, more grace there, it comes together beautifully.” Between laughter and gentle kneading, I watched him learn to adjust, adding flour and taming the sticky mess.
When the biscuits rose golden, he stood proud, eager to try again, driven by the desire for that perfect result to rise higher the next time.
He understands that he’s built from a different cloth, he comes from a family of skilled cooks and bakers. My father taught us how to cook, my mother owned a restaurant and perfected our skills.
I taught his father, my son, how to cook and bake.
This is our family—#builtdifferent
@redlotusmusic @red.lotus.music #legacy #cutfromadifferentcloth —cooks and makers of memories.
#familyiseverything #familytradition #grandchildren #grandparents #makingamazingchanges #macnificentlymade #generationalcooking #bakinglesson #lifelessons #kitchenchronicles #familylove #realmencook #passdowntherecipes #cookingwithlove #heirloomrecipes #homeeconomicmatters — and I wish it would return to our schools
Give Them Their Flowers (Literally)"
Anybody else raised with that unspoken rule?
Don’t show up to people’s houses empty-handed.
In our house, that was more than a rule—it was law.
Where did that rule even come from? The Bible? The ancestors? Social etiquette?
I don’t believe my mother made it up—though it definitely felt like it at times.
Anyway… some of y’all know about my long-standing relationship with flowers.
Specifically, Stargazer Lilies.
They’re dramatic. They smell AMAZING. They do the most—and I love them for it.
(Also obsessed with Alstroemerias. Just saying.)
And where does this floral love affair bloom?
My boo, Trader Joe’s—aka my unofficial boyfriend.
Don’t judge… he always has what I need and never talks back.
Quick flashback:
When I launched MACnificently Made in Atlanta, I ran straight to Trader Joe's- Norcross,GA looking for lilies to decorate my book signing table.
Funny enough, I ended up selling my very first copy right there in the flower section to Jonathan Redmon.
***Transparent Moment***
As I continue stepping into visibility…
I heard a song recently that didn’t just move me…it activated me.
Like a sacred whisper from the women who came before me, it said:
“Girl, stop hiding. Get out there. You’ve got to continue the mission.”
“I was born to walk through the fire, my mama raised me to be…”(view India’s powerful video, link below)
—@indiaarie
Let me tell you something… if you knew my grandmothers,
you’d understand why I’m free.
You’d understand how I can stand here… #bold, #visible, and unapologetically me.
“I was born for this mission.
I do not need your permission
To be who I was born to be.
That’s me. That’s me.”
Truth is, when you start healing… when you start learning boundaries…
when you learn to protect your peace…
it can feel safer to stay tucked away.