Not As Far As I Can Throw You

Trust…it’s big…yet it’s small. Trust is being a baby and knowing mommy will hold you when you’re tired. Trust is in the child’s eyes that expects their parent to walk them across the street safely. It’s in their expectation that the teacher will have the right answer in class. It is NOT simply about romantic relationships. It’s about relationships, period. Trust is knowing that someone will be what they say…at all times. Holding someone to their displayed character and being at peace with who they are.

A mom says, “Baby…I’ll pick you up at 3pm.” The child waits for mom to return…to no avail. Mom got sidetracked…not meaning to be late. Once, maybe…the child may forget. But, repeated offenses will send the child into anxiety. From that point forward, being dropped off will become traumatic. Trust lost…issues found.

When a person has given their trust over to someone, who ultimately proves to be untrustworthy…it brings about trauma. The idea of being “left out front” waiting for someone to pick you up…to keep their word…is enough to induce fits of fear. Those broken promises become the trigger. Hearing someone say, “I won’t hurt you” or “I’ll never leave you” or anything remotely close to that can and will bring about sensations of worry that can make someone want to escape. To shut down and become unreachable. The idea of the broken trust being founded in lapse of judgment or an err in decision is lost on the victim of the betrayal. All the victim can do is think of the feelings…abandonment, loneliness, betrayal, fear…and become hardened to words.

How can trust be restored? Is it something like when a mom plays peekaboo with her baby? Making it safe for the child to close his or hers eyes, knowing that when they reopen them…mom will be there. That first lesson in trust…telling the baby from the next room, “Mommy’s right here”…so they’ll know that mom’s love is never too far. Does a person who has royally screwed up have to shout from where they are…”I’m here!”? Soothing and relaxing their loved one into a trustful game of peekaboo. Helping them become reacquainted with knowing that the person they love is who they say. Where they’re supposed to be. What they claim to be.

Makes it all the more important to for a person to be WORTHY of the trust before the trust is given.

**found this in the drafts and decided to publish**

love’s sea

love said to me…
“follow me…
into the abyss,
plunge willingly into me…
trust me…” love said
love lured me
with a crooked finger
and a knowing wink
then love said…
“i know you cannot swim…
but place your lips upon mine…
and i shall breathe for you”
love lifted me by my pits
in the liquid swish
and carried me
with it
love said,
“i love you…
so come be free,
stay and be
a wave in my sea”
i looked upon love
with eyes wet…
but perhaps
in the abyssal mess
love could not tell
why my eyes did swell
…and perhaps
with my eyes
seeing nothing
but love
i spoke not
but embraced love
with a hug
and love could not see
that i was struggling to breathe
…that the water in my eyes
was not from love’s sea
but the asphyxiation
from love’s clench
which caused my heart to wrench
i wiggled free
asking love,
“please release me…
let me float
alongside thee…
not encumbered
by the pressure of
relying on you solely…
so deep, i cant see”
love assented,
relenting it’s hold on me
love said,
“be WITH me…
along side me”
and together
we paddled
above the abyss
and below the surface’s kiss
where light lives
giving way to a tandem wade
in love’s sparkling sea…

Is This 2009 or WHAT?

I received this email from my friend, Angela after viewing the above picture on her wall on Facebook. I laughed at first, because besides it’s obvious buffoonery (a monkey with a bottle) I laughed a little out of disgust. I’m sure some may have seen this picture and heard this story but for those who haven’t, here’s the email:

In this day and age, racism and ugly stereotypes continue to rear its ugly head. The recent Gates case, the Boston police officer calling Gates a “banana eating jungle monkey”, and others are strong examples.

Racism and negative stereotypical portrayals of African Americans comes in many forms.

John Taylor and his wife, Donna who live in North Carolina , recently went to COSTCO in Greensboro and could not believe what they saw perched on the shelf for sale. As the photos show, the

baby doll is being hugged by a monkey and the doll has a cap on its head that says ” lil’monkey” !They have lodged complaints with the COSTCO Corporate HQS and while their efforts succeeded in getting the doll

pulled from the Greensboro store, the doll is still on sale in Winston Salem and likely in other locations.

These dolls are in insult to us all and need to be pulled from all COSTCO stores or wherever they are being sold. COSTCO also owes their customers an apology. I hope you are as outraged as I am and if so,

call COSTCO HQs and demand that this product be removed from their shelves without delay. It is the “Cuddle Baby” product #404860 and the corporate headquarters number is 800-7742678.

Please feel free to spread the word to your networks to contact COSTCO and demand they stop selling this doll.

Most of us have already heard or seen the fiasco behind the watermelon flavored soda sold in Target with the minstrel-like logo. It’s becoming ridiculous that we’re still fighting THIS level of ignorance in 2009 when we should be evolving AWAY from the blatant hatred of people’s skin color. I sigh in exhaust off of the different things I see daily that set us back hundreds of years. I JUST wrote a blog on how people use the texture of their hair to become classicist within our own people. So, as Black people struggle to get hold of some semblance of unity in the wake of our Black president’s induction…in a country where most media marketing uses our music to touch the younger demographic…where women tan and implant to achieve a more “ethnic” or “exotic” appearance…I just can’t believe there’s a black doll packaged with a monkey. I asked my friend to let me know if there were “Caucasian counterparts” to this doll. Just so that I could relate, relax, release. Yet, when I thought of it, how different would it be? It would be just like the soda can’s other side having a little Caucasian boy on it. All to offset the impact. A few friends laughed and said, that if there ARE other dolls…they’re probably not with the same animal. There might be a puppy or kitten, etc…but no monkey. As I researched, I didn’t find much on any other versions of the doll…but, I did read that there WERE dolls of the Caucasian and Hispanic persuasion that also came with monkeys…but as I said, it doesn’t matter. The damage was done. By the time I’d read about this, the dolls had already been swiftly removed from Costco’s shelves. This one site where it was being discussed in comments had very good points. One person states:

“Mom’s across the world refer to their children as “Little Monkey”, it is a term of endearment like “Sweet Pea”. The “Little Monkey” doll set comes in all ethnic “colors” and is accompanied by an actual stuffed monkey. People look for reasons to be insulted. You would think people would tire of looking for insults around every corner, it’s energy consuming. First you have to convince yourself you look like a monkey, then you have to declare the monkey uncute or undesirable so the comparison is offensive, then you have to find someone to complain to and wait for sympathy. Geeze. Find something better to do with your time.”

She could have a point, but then I am curious to know her ethnicity…yet again, it doesn’t matter. Most BLACK people don’t need to go through a step-by-step process to comprehend the offensiveness. It’s instant. When in the history of racism, there have been certain images and stereotypes linked to our appearance, one doesn’t need to “feel” ugly to see the ugliness in something like this. Some things just need more careful consideration and research when being marketed to a country where the history of slavery and racism doesn’t always quite feel like history. From now on companies should have that ONE token Black dude or chick from the mail dept. to come up and give their opinion. If they’d asked someone from the streets…they would’ve known better.

Do you want to know what is funny ironic…not funny comedic? When I was pushing opinion on the watermelon soda and fighting against it’s imagery, not the fruit…I likened it to the concept of someone throwing a banana in a black kid’s hand and inferring that the child was a monkey. That we wouldn’t stop liking bananas…just the hate behind the concept. Right about now, the thought of a banana is making me nauseous.


As I am about to do my hair…I thought back to a few things I’ve seen posted here and there and I gotta say…

I am SO sick of hair snobs. I don’t care if you’re hair is the nappiest kink, an extreme coil, a silky wave or a naturally thin straight. I don’t care if you “found” yourself one year and decided that you were tired of wearing the white woman’s crown. I don’t care if you grew up with a hair complex and think that long straight hair is the most beautiful hair. I don’t care if you’re weave-licious but wear your hair natural underneath. Do you see where I’m going? I hope so…because AGAIN…black people have found a reason to continuously separate themselves from each other. This is NOT a Spike Lee joint. This is life…and life is about appreciating our differences and various physicality. The slave mentality is NOT the desire to look white…it’s the lack of desire to embrace each OTHER. It’s the ignorance that comes with our own inner caste system which divides us from the top of our heads to the souls of our feat. The mentality begins and ends with blurred lines of self-inflicted alienation from our brethren.

I admit…I’m lazy when it comes to my hair. I hate washing my hair. I hate DOING my hair. I WILL whip it into something nice on the way out the door…but, I’m a pony tail girl any other day of the week. I once went 7 years without a perm. My hair grew like a weed on speed. I washed it, oiled it, braided it, etc…and you know what was so funny? People STILL thought my hair was a weave. Finally after years of going natural and not REALLY knowing what to do with it…I went back to the fried, dyed and laid to the side look. One chick ran her fingers through my scalp in search of tracks. *smh* I didn’t do it because I hated my natural hair. For me it was ease. I didn’t have to do crap to it but wash it and slick it back. Does that make me less than a REAL black woman…ABSOLUTELY not. Do I have a warped sense of self? NO ma’am/sir. Do I not own my “blackness”? (whatever the hell that is). Do I not still walk with kween swagger? Bitch.Boo.Bye! Check it. My hair is beautiful…in it’s natural state AND it’s “processed” state. Why? Because it is MINE…and it is a part of ME. I am not my hair, as India.Arie said. I am not my “lighter shade of skin”…I am not my “fluffy” frame…I am not my “geek status”…I am not the cheeseburgers I love…I am not my clothes, residence, or the friends I choose. I am a stand out, unequivocally GRAND design of God’s. I won’t let someone who chooses to relish in their kink, tell me that because I DON’T…somehow I’m stuck in a white woman’s world. With all of the amalgamations of genes in this world…how is anyone to define what “black hair” should look like. I know chicks who have natural hair and STILL rock wigs and weaves. No offense NOR judgment to those sistas…but, like me…they sometimes lean towards ease and variety. Is EVERY sista who wears her hair natural, confident? NOPE…because going natural doesn’t equate to cultural pride. It doesn’t mean that every insecure thought goes away. It doesn’t mean that she stops hating what she sees in the mirror…anymore than having a perm means you’re an oreo. I have friends who are natural and love it. I have FAB girls who go from the stunning shaved Ms. Tracey…to the newly natural, Dee…to Nya Papaya’s (Melissa) natural waves…and my loc’d sista Mahogany. They are as different as their choice of hair style.

Is beauty in this country warped? HELL YEA…there are barriers of beauty that are still stigmatized and perpetuated. From body shapes, to facial feature, to hair texture, to geographical origin, to height and on and on. Do they need to be debunked and put to bed? OF COURSE!! What will it take? How about start with living your own life…being at peace with who you are first…and instead of ridiculing, dismissing and harboring snobbish judgments…accept folk for who they are. If I wanna relax my hair, eat a burger and drink a Pepsi. So BE it…because I DAMN sure wont be trying to convince you to process your fro, give up tofu and wheat shakes in order to validate my own beliefs. Hell, I AM tryna put the burger down. My ass is thicker than a Frosty…lol. Yet…Between all the differences we encompass and the attitude of self-righteousness…our people are going to remain on the slow climb to unity. All because instead of worrying about my mind state…you’re concerned with my hair. Treat the mind set first…and then work on the hair, because lack of perm just means you’re nappy…not necessarily happy.

Shit…I’m tender-headed ANY damn way. And I’m TIDE!

Shout-outs to my natural beauties…Almondie, B-Cup, Blossom, Yesha, Letrice, Sun Ree, Twin, Aly Boo, Cousins Shelley & SheRah/Megan & Kaitlyn, Starrdusstt, Sonja…and my mommy! 🙂

Whitney…is that YOU?

Whitney is back! Or is she? I’m so scared for her. I’m in proverbial nail-biting mode over this latest release. See, if Prince and Michael were my leading musical men…Whitney and Janet were their leading lyrical ladies. I remember getting allowance and running up to the record shop on “the avenue” in Mt. Vernon, NY (known to most as Money Earnin’). I can’t even tell you how much that album cost. All I know is at 12 in 1985, I, Kali…bought my first Whitney Houston album. Yea, you know…when they were still vinyl? lol

I played the HELL out of that album. It ended up skipping to the lou until I just handed it off to my little sister. I still know the words to every song on it and at one point owned all she had to offer on CD’s. I no longer have those *grrrr* but, nonetheless…I am a FAN! One of my favorites from that album is the little heard, “Thinking About You“…an up-tempo song that is a MONSTER to find and download. Of course there was “Saving All My Love For You” the covetous ode to a married man. And who could forget “How Will I Know” with its colorful video and quintessential 80’s flavor. Yet, the song that when those first synthesized notes bang in, sets me into “me me me-mode”…is “You Give Good Love”. The first released song and video from the album. GEEZ…I listen to that now and remember that Whit was just 22. What a voice…purer and stronger than a 22 year old should behold.

Of course, when the 2nd album was released…I was ON it! My friend Leah and I used to sit there and listen to that album and cry. LOL She was 12 and I was 14…and we were some sappy girls who loved boys who didn’t love us. I even remember their names but I wont post for the sake of the innocent (meaning Leah and I) ha! It didn’t help that it was the same year Prince released, “Adore” which is my favorite of all time and we were STILL losing control over Janet’s Control album. Songs like “Just the Lonely Talking Again” a remake of the Manhattan’s song. “So Emotional” which is a song that still gets me up and dancing around with the fake mic and everything…lmao. The beautiful, “Where Do Broken Hearts Go” was a winner for me…but it was “For The Love of You” a remake of the Isley Brother’s classic, that had my heart and still does. I remember being in the car with Leah’s family on the way to the pool and her mother said, “Oh, this is the Isley Brother’s song” and know-it-all Kali says, “Nah uh…that’s Whitney Houston, Ms Judy!”. She quickly schooled me and told me that yes, Whitney was singing, but the Isley Brothers made it first. I just replied, “Well, I like Whitney’s better!”…even though I’d never heard the other version. FAN, much?

If I were to sit here and name every song she’s sung that I fell in love with, you all would be mad at me. So, I’ll just say…I’M A FAN!

I’ve seen my girl put out albums that just rocked us, and some that left the critics wondering where she was going. I saw her marry Bobby Brown from another fave group of mine, New Edition…and put more R&B into her repertoire which the critics REALLY didn’t like. There’s the tumultuous marriage of Bobby & Whitney…their monkey foolery on Bobby’s reality show, the rumors…the TRUTHS about drugs and other abuse. The infamous Wendy Williams’ interview. The Diane Sawyer interview and the birth of “CRACK IS WACK”. Hearing about her having affair with little Ray Ray…and the whispers of a resurfacing in the music industry.

I’ll be 100% with you…I heard her newest release, “I Look To You” and it was OKAY. It’s Whitney, years ago…watered down. I’m sure someone told her she needed a super ballad to bring her back in but, in my opinion…this wasn’t it. Don’t get me wrong. I like the song and was happier than a new California cow that she was back…but, there’s something missing. What makes it hit you IS understanding what she’s been through. All I know is that when things got really bad and it was APPARENT, like that HBO concert where she could barely talk let alone sing…people were SO down on her and I hated it. I just kept praying that she’d be ok. That my idol would loosen from whatever had grabbed hold of her and that she’d rise again to her former glory and reclaim her spot…but then we all know, no matter what she’s been through, no matter how hard she fell…no one will EVER be who she was in music legend. After all, she is still Just Whitney.

Some more faves: “Exhale (Shoop Shoop)“, “It’s Not Right, But It’s Okay“, “Lover for Life“, “Greatest Love of All“, “Jesus Loves Me

**This post his having commenting difficulties. Please comment in the CBox on the side under “Kween’s Kourt”. Thank you 🙂

Is Romance An Illusion?

Romance, is defined in novels by poetic mack lines, flowers for smiles, serenades of seduction and promises of forever. It’s cheekily repetitive in cards, stuffed animals and online graphics…yet, the truth of romance is lost on a lot of people.

First, let’s research romance. Romance is defined (ref. Merriam-Webster’s Online Dictionary) as: a medieval tale based on legend, chivalric love and adventure; a prose narrative treating imaginary characters involved in events remote in time or place and usually heroic, adventurous, or mysterious; a love story especially in the form of a novel. So from the FIRST definition, we conclude it as being a tale or story based on things spread by word or writings about love and chivalry. Chivalry is certainly on a respirator if not already pronounced dead. It’s not even about opening doors and allowing ladies to pass first, as much as its about men being men. Taking the lead in a traditional sense, allowing for women to feel protected, cherished and cared for by their own personal knight. We live in a day and time where a man wants a woman who has her own. Sounds like he wants the package already wrapped and bow-tied, right? Whatever happened to a man going out and putting his physical body on the line to provide for a woman worthy of bearing his last name?

Then, we get to the SECOND description which puts romance definitely as writings, but dealing in fantasy. Mostly, in this form…romance is that idyllic story told of characters who cannot even remotely corroborate the beauty of such a love told. It’s strictly to be believed…for the awe of what could be. The THIRD explanation of the word romance also tips towards heroic sagas narrated, most likely in the 2nd person…telling of fairy-like obstacles surmounted in the name of love’s honor.

When you read all of that…what comes to mind? The Harlequin romances? Soap Operas? Movies like Titanic and The Notebook? The stories of love harrowed by time, circumstance and tragedy…made to beautifully capture the essence of an old cliche: “Love Conquers All”. I myself have never been so sweetly “romanced”…by ANYONE. I’ve received flowers by a lover ONCE and cannot remember a time when any man cooked for me with the intentions of it being all about me. I have never experienced candlelit meals nor breakfast in bed (well once, but that was because I was sick). Yet, is that not romance? A man who would know that his woman is sick and rather than leave her alone, he’d tend to her and make sure everything she needed…she had? Someone who would do her laundry and shop for food or buy her feminine products shamelessly? If romance is that “extra” mile…to prove love…to aver feelings of dedication…then aren’t those things possibly romantic?

Does romance HAVE to come in the form of a bouquet of flowers? (Even though I’m a sucker for a vase of tulips, gerbera daisies, roses or lilies). Isn’t romance, calling your paramour in the middle of the night and whispering as she falls away to slumber, “I love you”…fostering dreams of you? I DO sometimes wish to be wooed conventionally at times. Flowers, music, candles, poetry or prose written for my ears only. I also KNOW that romance can be as simple as a man fighting to prove his love, refusing to allow you to believe anything other than you are special, confessing undying love and letting the love of your life know that there is no other that compares.

To me…romance is the dance of inspiration that shows…SHOWS your lover how much they mean to you. I will leave you with a quote I found on the page of my sister’s friend:

“To love is to risk not being loved in return. To hope is to risk pain. To try is to risk failure, but risk must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.” ~Unknown~

A Little Princess

I swear sometimes I feel psychic. You all have NO clue how often I think of something and then it happens, or shows up wherever I am. Just the other day, I wished that “A Little Princess” would come on. It’s an enchanted story, set in 1954, of a little girl whose father goes off to war and leaves her in a school for girls. While there, she lives off of the adventures they’ve taken in their travels to India. After receiving word that her father died in the war…life becomes a little hard for her, but she gets through it by remembering what her father said, “All little girls are princesses…if you believe”. Her storytelling abilities become the sunshine in the lives of a few little girls who become taken with her. It’s kinda like an upscaled orphan Annie story, made in 1995. (It stars Liesel Matthews, who is also an heiress to the Hyatt Hotel fortune).

So, I wished for this movie…and VOILA…this morning, as I was searching for a movie to watch. It was there slated to air @6:45pm. Only, I didn’t want miss Hancock which was coming on @7:45pm (they coincide) so I continued looking for another time it would air…and it was coming on right then.

I love this story. Here’s a little girl, who was schooled in LIFE. She comes to the school, where she’s supposed to take French and Latin…but she is already fluent in both. Her flair for the creative and her knowledge at such a young age makes her a target for an angry little bully…and even the head mistress. Who would think that a grown woman would hate on a child’s life? But, I suppose that perhaps there are adults whose lives are shells of what they once believed or dreamed they’d be. They covet the innocence, zest and wide-eyed faith that children possess and rather than encourage or bask in it’s shine…they try to beat it down…reprimanding and chastising away their hopes.

Here is one of the saddest and cruelest parts:

In this story…a father’s love for his daughter and hers for him…allows a little girl the ability to exist in her own lovely state. In spite of how she begins to get treated…she still feels irrepressible hope and joy, just because her father loved her more than anything.

I just thought I’d share that. Hmmm, I’ve been wanting to see Joy Luck Club…you think if I wish hard enough, it’ll come on?

Happy Happy, Joy Joy

I began talking to Ms Joyous (as I like to refer to her) over a year ago. We became friends through a mutual acquaintance and it just stuck. LOL

Truth is, the circumstances surrounding our friendship’s conception was hardly smooth or cordial. Sure, we were nice to each other. I thought she was sweet and her connection with our friend was cute to me…but some misunderstandings crept in that could’ve ended badly. She was always so sweet though, which is so funny, because the day I spoke to her on the phone I had no clue she was gonna be so……so……NEW YORK! LOL I knew she lived in the Bronx, but…well, I just expected something different. She was full of “Yo, son’s” and “Ya Heard May’s” and it was too funny. What’s even funnier is that she is from Alabama (can’t shake that state for THIT!) and I thought she might have a little twang…yea…RIGHT! lol

LAWD, lemme tell you…she’s a handful. In essence…we’re complete opposites. From our signs, she Cancer…me, Capricorn…to our nature. She’s a pessimist, I an optimist. She’s highly sexual…I’m more conservative. And THIS one…shocked me…she’s VERY sensitive and I, well…I’m sensitive as well…but, I more mental. *yall, better not touch that!*

SO, as our friendship burgeoned towards a sisterhood, we encountered some snafus but we made it out unscathed. Along the way, she brought Buttercup aka Celeste along for the ride and it was so cool that we decided to meet back in November 08. We missed a couple of dates, until we just couldn’t take it. At one point or another, Joy, Celeste and I were all going through emotional situations that we felt merited some sister love. So, on December 6th, 2008…I hopped on a Metro train and went to the Bronx. Joy met me at the train station and we clicked immediately (even though she accused me of being light-skinneded…which still has YET to be proved). We shot to her place, she made me breakfast and we waited for Celeste to show. We had a BALL. We had a GREAT time and that’s all I’m gonna say. *lmao*

This woman, whose love for hip hop isn’t rivaled by anyone I know is a piece of work. She’s a consummate Erykah Badu fan and lives by the music on her Ipod. She loves to blog and has a passion for make-up that is as strong as mine is for cooking. Give us $1000.00 and set us loose? She’ll go to MAC and Sephora…I’ll find Williams-Sonoma. We’re both lovers of the butterfly…but for different reasons (at least it began as such). Her motto is, “Change one thing…change everything” in reference to a theory and the movie, “Butterfly Effect”. I love butterflies, because although they’re gorgeous and can symbolize ANY one’s journey of growth. Together, we’ve hurt and cried…laughed and loved. We rarely miss IM sessions and try to touch base often on the phone (though she’s not a phone person…girl, gimme that BB) lol. This 5’7″ Alabama born beauty, has the most tender soul, which is covered by a harder shell (crab anyone?) and though she doesn’t know it…my helping her through her storms, helps me as well. She hard-headed as HEYELL…but, I still love her. lol

Since initially speaking over the phone, meeting at her house and us spending a couple of weekends together since…she’s surely become my sister. Now, don’t get me wrong…there are several tiers to sisterhood. There’s basic “we’re women” sisterhood. There’s “we’re strong black women” sisterhood. There’s “she cool as hell” sisterhood. There’s “we’re besties” sisterhood” and then there is “we couldn’t be closer if we had the same mama” sisterhood. I have a biological sister who is like my twin…and no one can replace her and no one tries…yet, there are a few ladies who I’d ride on a fool for in a HEARTBEAT! I can truly say, Joyous…is one of them.

Happy Birthday, Joyous One…

Love, Kiwi

**you can view her blog HERE! You can follow her on Twitter HERE**

the cusp of bluff

there’s this bluff
high and lofty
looks over vast ranges of promise
i’ve been here before
breath taken away
by the altitude
heart racing with fearful glee
when one is standing
where i stand now…
do they jump?
to own wings briefly
or does one stand
in awe of the sky’s infinity?
while standing here
on the crags of jagged dreams
does one begin to grasp the next move
doesn’t reaching the pinnacle
mean the world?
how do you decide
on whether to stay here…
on the precipice of awe
in the presence of life
knowing that…
remaining here…(while a beautiful plateau)
means being still
no forward movement
just feet planted
looking up at the universe’s offering
the intense feeling of the climb
peering down
at travels past below…
how do i stop bluffing…
and move?

Legacy of Marriage

My mother and I were out running errands the other day. She had on a yet to be released CD by Kirk Whalum. The Gospel According to Jazz 3 is a must have. One of my faves is the piano rendition of Celine Dion’s “Because You Loved Me” with George Duke on piano…but, I digress. LOL

Kirk was speaking to the audience (it’s a live CD with a DVD companion) and was telling everyone about his dad who at the time was still alive, but sick and making his transition. He said something that sparked this blog. He said, “My brothers and I and our wives…”

“OUR wives…”

I said to my mother, I love that…I love that when all the men in the family are married and there is a legacy of marriage. She said that it was indeed THAT reason…why it may work for them. They’ve known nothing BUT marriage in their family. Now, don’t get me wrong…there are people who have not seen an example of marriage and/or healthy relationships, and they’ve found happiness. Yet, what did they go through in order to find that place of peace? What I believe to be a great truth is that those shown healthy and I repeat…HEALTHY relationships and marriages lean more toward finding themselves married more contently. Just like a child needs two parents…they need to see their parents (or some semblance of it) interacting in a functional partnership of matrimony in order for them to navigate through the trials of being a couple. You learn behavior that is exampled…even if only from a mentor. For instance…my cousin has become his pastor’s honorary 4th child. The pastor has been married to his wife for long over 20yrs and have 3 productive children. My cousin befriended his eldest son when they were younger and have been roll dogs ever since. Seeing their example of family, “I” believe is the reason my cousin wanted to go to school…and why now he is striving to be a minister (even though he’s loved church since before he even knew this family)…but, again…SEEING it and knowing its possible are two different things.

My uncles are married. I have 3 on my mother’s side and 1 on my father’s side. My uncle on my dad’s side married finally 7 years ago…but, by then he’d done all a man could do and more. My mom and dad were never married and not so sure either of them are worried about that now. The three uncles on my mom’s side are married and have been married for several years. My oldest uncle has been married for over 20yrs…to his 3rd wife. My other two uncles were married the same year 2 months apart. They’re still with their wives even with all they’ve been through since. Yet, I noticed…the women in my family aren’t married…or in serious relationships for that matter. On my maternal side, my grandmother was never married, but her sisters were…and their children were. MY grandmother’s daughters and granddaughters have yet to find that to even be a possibility as of yet. On my paternal side…my grandmother was married to my grandfather, until they divorced before I was even born. She’s yet to be “seen” with a man. *laughing at my grandma*

I wonder how it is that the MEN found a legacy of marriage in a family where there was no example of relationships…yet the women have not. I would love to see someone’s take on it.