Definitions of Family

Family.

That word is multi-faceted and the people that I have come to associate with it do not all fit the “traditional” western interpretation of the term. So, I thought now would be a good time to introduce those people who make up my Family.  In the weeks and months to come I am sure each of them will have their stories told  But, for now a simple introduction will serve.

In the beginning....

I suppose I should begin with my grandmother Mecca. As her name implies she is the center of my family and the bond that unites us all. No matter where I am in the world, I can turn to her and feel a sense of peace and calm. That is not to say that Mecca is always tranquil. Sometimes she can be as full of rage and turmoil as any of the rest of us. Her past is full of both beauty and struggle, and the years have brought her greater wisdom, if not greater fortune.

It is from Mecca that Isis was born.  (This is my blog and my rules, so please don't try to come at me with the accuracy of my mythology and geographic history.  Thanks.  The Management).  Isis had it pretty rough growing up.  I will probably do a entire post on her alone, but for now I will stick to the basics.  She was the goddess who controlled all the major forces in my life, but like most gods, that also meant she was usually to busy running shit to intervene directly in my life.  It has only been in the last few years that I have begun to understand the mythos of my mother.  To see her as more than figure.  To recognize her as a person.

I have four siblings: Bigger, Blackbird, Pandora, and Confusion.  The boys are older and the girls are young, which leaves me smack dab in the middle.  I shall introduce them in turn.

The Boys

Bigger like his namesake, grew up filled with a rage he didn't quite understand, and thus was not able to fully control.  And like Bigger, he has wound up behind a set of steel bars.  Blackbird is a a pretty slick cat (mixed metaphor, so what bite me).  Unfortunately, Blackbird never really learned how to fly, mostly because people kept his wings clipped.  He never really had a lot of encouragement to succeed and follow his passions because his interest (b-ball and art) were regulated to pipedreams by my kin.  As he has gotten older though, his feathers have grown out and he has begun to test his wings.

The Girls

Pandora was the center of my world growing up and in a lot of ways still is my touchstone for home.  When she was a little girl, I gladly stepped into the role of big brother and her happiness was synonymous with my own.  Sadly as we have grown older, the kindness in our relationship has been replaced by an animosity and combative energy that I struggle to understand, but find myself helpless to resist.  Confusion is the baby and to be honest most of us don't really know what to do with her.  She is really trying to figure herself out and keeps drawing a blank.  I know in the end she will find her way, but in the meantime I worry.

(Side note, both Blackbird and Confusion are really my half cousins, but they were informally adopted by Isis.  Confused yet?)

This is where things get more interesting, because like most members of Negrocity (Negro Society), I entertain a host of play siblings and cousins.  If you don't know what a "play cousin" is here is urban dictionary for you.

1. play cousin
n. someone who you growed up around, who you know like family but ain't related to yaz.

These are my closest friends and confidants and they make up my High Council.

The High Council

I never really thought about it until now, but the Council is pretty much made up of women.  My little band of Amazonians, who give me advice on life.  The High Council is really governed for the most part by Peaches, Black Laces, Bella Bilar, Pinay,  Tigress, Eb, and Profesora.  I met Peaches, Black Laces, and Bella Bilar in my college days and they were a large part of how I made it through.  I really don't see them as much as I would like and have been working on visiting more frequently and I am sure that they are about ready to kick my ass for my negligence.  Pinay, Tigress,  Eb, and Profesora have known me since my Cali days and I can still turn to them to remember the old days and to share in the shit I find myself in now.

There are a handful of others who sometimes attend meetings of the High Council and there are definitely a few new editions that I think will be nominated for lifetime appointments (Pixie and Bubbles for example).  There are also three guys who have been voting members of the High Council from time to time: Waru (The Lost One), Puck (The Betrayer), and Apollo (The Fallen).

So these are my people. The ones who keep me going in more ways than they could possibly imagine.

My Family.

Surprises

Last week I went on a short vacation to visit family and old friends on the left coast.  It had been several months since last I'd seen anyone from my old stomping grounds so I was anticipating a trip full of spontaneous gatherings, excessive photos, and generally good vibes.  For the most part that is what I got.  There were a few exceptions including an awkward day with Waru (more on that later), but by my last day in Cali,  I had escaped any large scale drama and thought I was going to be able to leave with a pocket full of joy.  Enter my sister, Pandora. 

Pandora doesn't always intend to cause trouble, but as her name impies, it usually follows her whether she wants it to or not and this vacation (unfortunately) didn't end up being an exception.  BUt, I get ahead of myself.

On my last night I was planning on a nice night with the women in my family; my mom Isis, my youngest sister Confusion, Pandora, and I were all going to be home for dinner.  My brother's Blackbird and Bigger couldn't make it do to some obligations they couldn't get out of, but I'd spoken with both of them earlier that trip and it was all good.  (Look for a future post for explanations to the family's psuedonyms).  All in all, it was shaping up to be a nice farewell dinner until Pandora thought that this would be a perfect to time to invite my father Red.  

Now, one of my New Year's resolutions this year was to reconnect with one person that has drifted out of my life every month.  It could be someone I got into a fight with and never forgave, a friend who moved away that I don't get to see regularly, or that old mentor that used to inspire me that I kept meaning to write.  It seemed like a relatively simple task, but karma consulted with fate and decided to throw me a curve ball.  I didn't anticipate Red making it to this list.

My father and I have neither spoken nor seen each other in 6 years.  Pretty much the entire time I have lived on the east coast he has been nothing more than a ghost.  Ever since he and Isis got divorced when I was a little kid, he has not been actively involved in my life.  Only slipping in and out, sometimes with years in between.  In the last year or two however, he has been trying to reconnect with me and my siblings.

Personally I stopped looking for a father figure a long time ago and came to resent the notion that I should have to make room for him in my life when he felt it was important.   My mom and Pandora have both been advocates of me establishing a relationship with him, but everytime I asked them (and myself) why should I, all I got was blank stares and vague comments that he is my father and that is reason enough.

I am not sorry to say that I harbor a mix of ambivalence and anger.  The man fucked up and instead of being there for me when I really did need him, he disappeared.  I do not feel like I owe him a damn thing.  Some may say this is a selfish stance, but fuck it.  He was pretty damn selfish when he walked away from his family too.  All I am doing is serving as an agent of karma.

I still remember very vividly the last time I saw him before he went on his first hiatus.  Me and Pandora were maybe 10 and 11 years old respectively and we were waiting outside on my front porch for him to pick us up.  In those days I used to worship that man and was a daddy's boy through and through.   Bags packed two nights before, me and Pandora waited on the porch with great anticipation.

We waited all that morning, skipping breakfast because we didn't want to be running late when he showed up.

We waited into the warm afternoon and started to pick through the snacks my mom had packed for us to take over to his house.  Neither of us wanted to leave the porch in case he'd gotten lost and couldn't remember which house was ours.

We waited as the warmth of the day faded into the creeping chill of the evening.   My sister started to shiver a bit, her jacket in the house (why would we need to wear our jackets during the day), so I draped my arm around her to warm her up.  

I could hear my mother at the door looking out on us huddled on the porch steps.  I turned back to face her as she began to speak and the words dried up in her mouth.   She looked at us in silence and turned away, returning a few moments later with a blanket.

We waited until the street lights came on and my sister gave into the rumble in her stomach and went into the house to grab leftovers.

We became I and still I waited.

Little did I know that I would have to wait for years to come.  Wait for the excuse, the apology, the visit, the call, the letter.  Something, anything to explain why.

I waited for years until I forgot why I was waiting.  The image of the man everyone said I resembled began to blur around the edges and I went back into the house, to the people who loved me and didn't make me wait in the dark.

Pandora didn't mean to bring trouble in her wake and perhaps her forced encounter with Red will lead to a reconciliation in the future.  For now, he can take my place on the porch; I am already home and am done waiting for a ride to see the people I love.