Joseph. That name. That is my middle name. That was my father’s name. He got it from his father. It is the most important thing I have. It informs who I have been and who I am. My father’s son.
Joseph.
I am who I am. I cannot undo who I am. I am ultimately thankful for who I am.
I look at my life now.
I can see the future. I can see where I’ve been. I can see the people I love.
Greg is still married, with four kids. He’s doing well. I remember when I first met him in a gym in Queens. We became teammates and best friends.
Sonny and Pam Vaccaro are still together. They live in Malibu. He spends his days fighting the NCAA. He still cooks every night. Ask him about his pasta Bolognese.
Khloé and her boyfriend, NBA star Tristan Thompson, welcomed their first child into the world. I am happy for them. She will be an amazing mother.
Liza lives in New York with Destiny and Lamar Jr. She has been my rock through it all. I still remember her pretty face from homeroom freshman year.
Destiny will be twenty-one soon. She wants to be a dancer.
Lamar Jr. is six feet three. He is quiet, polite, and respectful. He has none of his father’s habits.
Gary Charles lives with his family in Long Island. He is still involved with the Panthers and works in New York’s financial district.
Taraji is the star of Empire, one of the best shows on television. She is still a perfect example of black womanhood.
Tavorris Bell lives in Atlanta, Georgia. He works at a publishing company. He often visits his seventeen-year-old daughter in Miami. I regularly bust his ass in NBA 2K.
Jerry DeGregorio, Poppa D, is an assistant coach with women’s basketball at Clemson.
Aunt JaNean still lives at 131st and Linden. She’s as feisty as ever. She’s still Aunt JaNean.
Joseph, my father, lives in Brooklyn, not far from the Wood-side Houses where he met my mother forty-one years ago. I talk to him once a week.
As for me, I’m still an addict. I still struggle. Some days I don’t want to get out of bed. Some days I feel like the world and everything in it is mine. I still have my sense of humor. I can still see the bright side.
I’m hopeful. I’m determined. I am fierce. I am blessed. I am a force. I am humbled.
But mostly, I’m still figuring out who I am. I’m in a good place. I love the journey I’m on, and it’s nowhere near done.
I will not go into the darkness. Ever again. I remember Grandma Mildred. I crave the light. I went from the darkness to the light. I died. And now I live. It is truly a gift. I still struggle. Pray for me because I will pray for you. If you see me, come up and say hello. Every person I meet is a light. Every smile, kind word, beautiful gesture is something that will keep me from the darkness.
I’ve never been truly able to express how I feel about the fans. You know what? Not fans. Just friends I’ve never met. I’ve been as low as a person can go. But you never let me fall. You kept me from the pit of despair. Your love saved my life even if I’ve never met you. Your spirit is with me. Thank you. Your love has been a light that has never gone out. These pages must show.
One day I will meet my mother again. I will tell her about my life, and I will ask her about hers. I will hold her as she once held me. I will tell her I tried to be kind to everyone. Just like she told me to be the last time I talked to her. I will tell her that Mookah did his best.
I will hug my mother and I will cry. I won’t ask why. I will tell her that I kept our room clean. I was tall and handsome and polite. Just like she wanted her boy to be. I hope she still loves me. I will tell her that I love her. I will hug my mom.
But not yet.
I am thirty-nine.
This is where I was born.
This is where she died.
I can close my eyes and still see it.
I will die.
But I will not die today.
I will not go into that sweet good night.
Not yet.
I made it this far.
I have lived to tell.
I am Lamar Joseph Odom.
And I am alive.