A Voice, the Memories

Today was one of those days where I hadn't plan to do much. I'd spent the better part of the past few days designing a project for a film festival. I'd also finished a short film script and felt creativity in everything that I was doing. I felt good about the work that I'd put in on myself and projects I'd committed to (even though I didn't make any money).

I went food shopping with my mom and the strangest thing happened today. I was standing by the orange juice waiting as my mom browsed the frozen food section and the strangest thing happened. A woman spoke to another woman who was either her daughter or granddaughter. I don't even remember what she said, all I know is that she sounded exactly like my Grandmother Ida.

My Grandmother was the second to last child in a family of nine children. Born and raised in St. Thomas, US Virgin Islands, my grandmother is what I would call a spitfire. Being the second and youngest daughter, I'm sure there was a lot of fighting for attention in such a large family, including the pain of losing her mother at the age of three. We in the family talked about it over the years, and we believe she never got over that loss. And with her being sort of the black sheep of the gang, with a super-strict hard nosed father, an eventual step mother who did not like her, and abusive siblings - my Grandma definitely grew up feeling like it was her against the world (and trust me, I know all about growing up in a large family and feeling like a black sheep).

My Grandma had four children - three boys and one girl (my mom). All by different men. Never married any of them. The interesting thing is, from what I'm told, my Grandma had one of those 'deal with it or get the fuck out of my home' attitudes when it came to men, which makes me laugh when I think about how I wish I had a tenth of that attitude. According to her children she wasn't the most outwardly affectionate of people with them, but they all agreed that Grandma worked, took care of them, made sure the bills were paid, and knew how to party as well. I've seen photos of my Grandma when she was a young woman. Wow. She just had IT. And I could see how men would follow behind her no matter how much she'd curse them out, lolololol!

Anyway, I was actually the second of all of my Grandmother's children. My older cousin - whom I've never met to this day - wasn't so much in their lives after my uncle and his ex broke up. It's no excuse, but who am I to judge I suppose.

Growing up, I often had a hard time determining whether I was loved by family, except from my Grandma. She didn't baby me, she loved me. My Grandma is the only person, other than my son, I knew whose love I never had to wonder about. When I talk about how my Grandma loved me vs. how my mom and her siblings felt growing up, I wonder if all the expression of love that she didn't show to her own children, were bestowed upon me, my siblings, and my cousins.

My Grandma was around for most of my childhood before she moved to Colorado to live with my uncle and his family. She eventually came back to NY long before she passed away.

My Grandma had a lot of demons and anger, and as I got older I could feel her demons draining the life out of me at times, and this is one of the reasons why I'd kept my distance and my pregnancy from her. When I found out I was pregnant I literally lost my mind. I was a barely functioning zombie, and while I will forever feel guilty for staying away during my pregnancy, I also understand that it was for self-preservation in order to get through such a difficult time in my life. Although in retrospect, I wonder if I had gone to her would I have gotten the support I needed. I know I would have, but I also know I was so out of my mind (and sick) during that time, that I wouldn't have been able to accept comfort from her in the first place. It is one of few things that I continue to wonder about and the answer is always different (like trying to figure out the end of Inception, we always go back and forth about what the ending really means).

My Grandma died, alone, nude (she appeared to be changing her clothes), in the basement room she rented in a private house in the Bronx. It was estimated that this occurred August 20, 2002. We found her two days later. I remember looking at her, laying on the floor, and wondering what her last thoughts were before she passed. It had to be sudden because of the surprised look on her face and the fact that she appeared to be in motion of getting dressed. I hope she didn't suffer. I hope it was quick. It still devastates me to this very moment that I couldn't be there to comfort her. I still try not to be mad at God about that.

There's a book and a half worth of things that I could write about my Grandma, but of all of the things that happened during those last years of her life. I am beyond grateful that my Grandma met and knew my son. And she loved him. My mom told me she was so hurt when she found out I had a baby, and the punk in me is grateful for not seeing the look on her face when she found out, but I am so glad that God gave me the change to witness my Grandma and son together. I have a photo of them together, and the look on my son's face epitomizes how I feel about my Grandma.  And that's why when I heard that woman's voice in the supermarket today, I broke down and cried, right in front of the orange juice section, with strangers looking at me like I'd lost my mind. And interestingly, I was so grateful that my mom was there because I know she knew.

(Grandma & Elijah)

(Sigh) Dating...

...or should I say "not" dating. Ugh. It's just such a chore for me because I know I'm "different" and I have my issues, as noted in my aforementioned blog entries, but damn! Really? No amount of hypnotism and self reflection will make me understand why it's so damn hard for me.

The nastiest people, funkiest ho's (hey, ho's need love too), nastiest, ungrateful, unsympathetic people out there have someone, or at least have options, and my corny ass tries to flip things by turning "no one will date me" into, "well, I'm taking a dating hiatus" just to make myself feel better, lol!

It's funny, but it's sad at the same time. While I have acquired more confidence than I had even 10 years ago, I'm still not there, and I hate to admit (but I will) that the opinions of others do, in some way, feed into my timid approach to this dating thing.

Thing is, I look at things too practically. I'm so concerned (overwhelmed) with how I'm going to pay for my 10 year old's college years that I've all but abandoned the idea of the possibility of having more children. It's not a stupid thing, but it is a fear that is damn near crippling because I know I wont be finish paying my student loans until I'm a Grandma, and I don't want that for my boy. Then there's also the fact that I am now in the late 30s category, and let's say I meet Mr. "he doesn't get on my nerves all the time" and allow myself to get impregnated (on purpose this time) - that's not something that I'm going to rush into! And if I do take my time, I'll be a woman in her 50s with a young child. WTF? The people in my family never look their age - despite how I feel, I know I don't look my age, and my sis who is 2 years behind me practically looks like a fetus, but regardless of how I look, if I make it to my 50s, I will have the body of someone in their damn 50s, and I don't want to go to no play dates at my current "parent-age" - what I look like, being the age of someone's Grandma, with my 5 year old, trying to relate to the young moms and their spa dates? lololol!

So, I have a couple of options:

• Date an older man (with kids of his own who are probably older than my youngest sibling - my youngest sibling is 15 by the way)
• Become a young cougar
• Try harder with the online dating thing (this is some exhausting shit! No one likes me- except for the fake West African scammers all names David - and they haven't even heard my voice yet, lol!)
• Wear more revealing clothes (back to the older man thing, because the men my age don't even see me)
• Get a nose job and liposuction, a weave, bleach my skin, trade in my Honda Civic for a Lexus, and shop at Macys and above only (no more $10 store) and trick some dude into liking something that isn't even a representation of who or what I am -- too much freaking work

I have to laugh. I have to, because I'm too old for this kind of thing to be keeping me up at night, and we all know I'm getting older so I need my sleep!

I would just love for someone to tell me that being myself - my practical, frugal, crazy, funny, serious, tough, loving, hardworking self - is actually enough, because it's either that, or make it clap on the pole so that I can pay these student loans off, make sure my son doesn't acquire student loans himself, and have someone tell me he loves me - despite his drunken stupor.

And so that ends my being a smart ass today :)

Family is all Relative

My son and I just spent the Thanksgiving holiday with the family of a friend of mine who I know from work, and the past few days just confirms what I've always believed, which is family is all relative.

To be welcomed into a family of people whom you've never met, and even better for me, to see my son embraced so lovingly (especially since he was a bit nervous beforehand) is something that any person would want and cherish should they be blessed to have such an experience.  I have not necessarily given up on one day having the big family dinner with my own blood relatives, but I live in the hear and now and I am not going to waste my time holding my breath, or tricking myself into believing that I can break bread with a 10 ton pound gorilla in the room.  And since I also have no desire to wallow in any type of self pity with regard to our 'family' situation, I will continue to go toward a place where love is being offered and where I can return it as well.  Family is not supposed to keep score.  Family is not supposed to vilify.  Family is not supposed to take sides.  Family is not supposed to ostracize as if we were in a high school cafeteria trying to figure out which table to sit at.  Family does not always have to agree, but family is supposed to be about respect - in both directions.  Non of this do as I say not as I do - grown ups should be held just as accountable for their actions as we do the children.  Family is the one place where one should be within a hair's reach of "fair."'m still supposed to be one of the kids.  Sure, with a bit more life experience, and maybe I should be setting some life examples for the others to be inspired by and maybe even follow to some degree, but I am still one of the kids.  I get tired of having to remind people of this  Anyway, going off on a tangent, sitting under the hair dryer will 500 rollers in my hair, the heat is burning my neck a little and this blog entry has no real structure, but at the end of the day, it's all in the title.  You can't choose your family, but actually you can :)

Love?

I don't know why I am doing this while waiting for some 4th of July barbecue, but I am going to attempt to discuss "love" (with the disclaimer that I a not very good at this).

(ticking....ticking....ticking...)
Ok.  So, this is what I think about romantic love.

It's being in the presence of your significant other and feeling easy breezy, even if things aren't necessarily so, because if there 's a problem between us two, even if we don't have the answer right away we will work together to figure it out.

It's wanting to take care of you 'honey' when they don't feel well. You want to take the day off, not answer the phone, not sleep a wink until you know that they are ok.  When your sweetheart isn't at their best you want to build them up.

It's 'wanting' to take care of their every need, even if they don't need you to.

It's being able to sit in the same room in a comfortable silence.  You can give your partner one look from across the room and the love is confirmed all over again.

It's about being able to express your feelings without feeling like you're giving your partner ammunition to throw back at you in a negative manner.

It's about when you are feeling your worst, and your partner being able to point out your best, just to remind you should you forget.

It's about giving to your partner (whether it's time, assistance, support, whatever) without keeping score.

It's about looking at your partner and thinking, 'my life is already great, and you make it better.'

It's about not feeling bad about giving so much of yourself because you are receiving just as much in return.

It's about being able to hug your partner and feel like you are HOME.

I am not an expert at this particular topic, and I haven't been in love in about 12 years (and that was unrequited), so maybe the things I listed is some outdated wish list of a girl and not the reality of a grown woman with a child.  The one thing I think I know is that these listed things touch on some fundamental basics when it comes to relationships. I guess my justification for this list is, even though I ain't never had it, don't mean I don't know what it is!  I don't know, but that's my story and I'm sticking to it (for now, lol)!  It's not poetic and I can definitely write more eloquently, but my contacts are bothering me and my food is ready, so I'm out, for now!