What I’ve Learned This Weekend

What I’ve Learned This Weekend

• I learned that I look damned good in a mask for a masquerade ball
• I learned that the stronger you initiate a hug, the better it is on both parts
• I learned that some folks make aging look like… it isn’t agony.
• I learned that at 70 after your children have married and your husband has passed, you can still dance a fox trot and smile if you want to
• I learned that I enjoy the company of others and especially helping others
• I learned that after a year of being engaged, I still feel giddy about the day that he proposed
• I learned that all my memories of high school are STILL dear and close to my heart.
• I learned that project heat is a MUTHER FUCKER
• I learned that I could cram 3 or 4 things into one weekend day and still feel rested when its over
• I learned that if I put my mind to it, I can drink an entire 2 litre of Schwepps Ginger Ale.
• I learned that no matter HOW MUCH YOU CLEAN, roaches will persevere. And there is MUCH to be learned from their resilency. Gotdayumed maggots *grumble grumble*
• I learned that disease can strike quickly and come frighteningly close to taking a close loved one OR even a marginal acquaintance away… and make you SO MUCH more loving when you do see them again.
• I learned that at 31, I can still make new great friends
• I learned that at 31, I can still look up to people and aspire to be more than I am
• I learned that I’d have more leverage to borrow the car if I had a license.
• I learned that daylight savings time can screw up your body clock something aweful…

G’nite

*

A Public Service Announcment

A Public Service Announcement

Okay… they often say that the reason we don’t find information (we being black folk) is because they hide it in books. Very true… Most black people DON’T like to read. They like to experience in vivid color. Okay then… Dig this message:

Can it be any clearer? I think not. Do I cringe in horror to think that the secret weapon was GRAPE FLAVORED MENTHOL #2 PENCILS?? No. Because it’s so typical to think that of us based on our behaviour sometimes. I truly believe that what is being done to us is so overt. But then… why aren’t we moving to change it?

*

Necessary

Necessary

I went through my phone messages today. 9 saved messages. Of the 9… 2 were worth keeping. But I guess at the time, the other 7 seemed important enough to hold on to. But that was weeks ago. But I just held on to them. Seems so like life. At certain times, some things or ideals or people seem SO pressing that we must hold on to them. Because they feel important. Because they seem indespensible. Given enough time though… things that are worth keeping make themselves known. And it’s undeniable.

I visited my uncle today at Lenox Hill Hospital. I really love that hospital. It’s old fashioned, but I feel like the care they give is just superior. Diagnosis… he has a fist sized tumor (No one has really told me whether it’s malignant or begnign for cancer). Luckily, the tumor is growing ON the brain, not into it and it’s pushing the brain. So they did an embolization to see what arteries are feeding the tumor and cut that supply off. The Drs are surprisingly optimistic. “You’ve probably been noticing that he’s slowed down considerably in the last year or so. It’s because of the pressure on the brain. Who knows… when we remove it, he may act like he’s 20 years younger.” I forgot what it’s like to talk to a doctor who has bedside manner.

On the way home, I commented on the girlfriends that showed up. My godson walked in with his girlfriend…. and introduced her as such. She greeted everyone and was very much interacting with the family. (he’s 20) His older (29) brother’s … um… female friend stayed down the hall for the most part… was very to herself, never introduced herself nor did he introduce her. Almost like she came to support him…but knew it wasn’t her place… or something. Plus… and this is the vain side of me talking (I only let this part of me talk occasionally, so indulge me). I feel that I’ve set a pretty high standard for the Cousins and my brother. I’m a beautiful, together, intelligent, no shit takin kind of female. They know not to even BRING their girls around me if they can’t handle this heat. I am the Alpha Wolf. (hear me roar). And she retreated like the beta. Many have met the test and failed… and didn’t last long. Didier’s girl has my approval. The other chick… there’s no room for weak females in this family….

…or is there?

As we discussed it more (my brother and I on the train)… we talked about the misfortune of the women in this family. They end up with a raw deal. A pattern that Domi has observed me as bucking in the near future. But the others… My dad is INTENSELY selfish and can’t see anyone but himself which has locked my mom into a life serving him and nothing else — even in her malady. My aunt’s ex-husband … well… the ex says it all. Rashes of infidelity run rampant. And then my brother dropped the bomb on me. “I wonder if Vava stopped beating his wife.”

If it’s one thing that I thought we didn’t have in our family, it was cowards and punks. I guess… I was wrong. I hate to be wrong about my favorite uncle. And then I thought about karma… if you do something physically wrong to purposefully hurt someone… how does the universe hurt your physical. Make you an addict? Give you cancer? Maybe a tumor…

Damnit. I wanted to believe that his only vice was his addiction.

*

Warmth

Warmth

It’s that familiar hissing coming out of the project radiator.
It’s a warm bowl of oatmeal in the evening specially prepared by daddy as our supper or just an evening snack.
It’s cuddling up to mommy to watch Murder She Wrote or Matlock.
It’s fuzzy slippers.
It’s a hot shower that restores the heat to your extremities.
It’s a house full of your immediate family and nothing is pressing with anyone.
It’s flipping through an old photo album and smiling while you reminisce.
It’s a baby falling asleep in your arms.
It’s comforters wrapped like shawls and bodies tucked underneath with a warm mug of tea or hot cocoa.
It’s reading an extra good passage from the Bible, just reinforcing what you already knew.
It’s a phone call from a loved one and enough time to take it and not be rushed off the phone.
It’s a walk down a quiet street holding hands with a loved one.
It’s your favorite sweater.
It’s knowing you have the day off tomorrow.
It’s spooning.
It’s a child cuddling up to you because they trust you and feel safe.
It’s laying down after the shower that rinses you clean after cleaning your house.
It’s listening to the heartbeat of the one you love while he sleeps.
It’s crisp skies with fluffy clouds and a biting wind, knowing that your home is warm and you can watch it from the inside.
It’s a good drink (for real).
It’s sleeping in peace when the day is done.

This is my favorite season.

*

Band of Brothers (and one sister)

Band of Brothers (and one sister)

So we made our way to go see my uncle in the hospital. All “The Cousins” as we refer to each other. Of my mom’s line there are 5 total (3 brothers and 2 sisters). All of their children are “the cousins”: Domi, Me, David, Ossen, Ollie, Didier. Growing up the only girl in all the cousins made me a tougher brand of female, I think; not all the way tomboyish, but definitely NOT dainty. It also placed me as the immediate next “matriarch” of whatever we decide to do with our lives and the one that would unify us. Seems like, in my family, the women are better at keeping us together than the men have been. Granny was the last one… Mommy is it now. And I guess I’m next.

I made all the phone calls to the cousins to round them up and inform them if they didn’t know and get them to motivate. My baby came to pick us up. Domi, Me and Ollie headed together… Didier and Ossen were at the hospital already (Vava is their dad). We got there and my baby stayed down stairs to elevate his knee… his arthritis is cripplingly painful in this change of weather. We headed up not knowing what to expect. I guess I expected that he’d be himself… all they did was diagnose him with something that he’s been living with so I thought that nothing much had changed. Boy, was I wrong. He was a complete shell of himself. Trembling. Hiccuping violently. Almost unable to feed himself. And whispering. Barely audible. He sat there looking so frail while the six of us stood towering over him… staring at him. At one point I ushered 4 of the cousins out into the hall way so as to not make Uncle Vava feel like he had an audience. How embarrassing that has to be.

So I caught up with Didier (who is not only my cousin but my first Godson – I baptized him when I was in the 7th grade) and Ossen who I’d not seen in a few months. After Vava ate, he sat still for a moment and then started to fuss. Started getting up. Where did he want to go? Right. To smoke a cigarette. True addiction, I thought to myself. Ossen, a nurse and myself had to convince him that he needed to sit down and NOT do that. After he conceded… we all headed out into the hallway while the nurse attended to him for the evening. All of the cousins were lined up against the wall chatting and I stood across the hall with my arms crossed admiring them all. Tall, chocolate, strapping young men. An artist. An aspiring lawyer. A computer programmer. An aspiring doctor. And I had the honor of being raised with them all. And it was going to be my job to keep us close.

I just pray that it’s not stuff like this that will constantly unify us.

*