Thursday, June 28, 2012

Noah's Ark

I've come to truly enjoy observing the way my friends and their mates interact with each other. Once upon a time I used to make throw up noises at extremely lovey-dovey couples and I still do but I have to admit with maturity comes a certain appreciation for lovers of the world. I love the banter, the sarcasm, the worrisome remarks they use along with the admiration they have for each other. I enjoy watching that look in their eyes when it feels like everyone in the room has disappeared.

It's funny when they tell on each other, revealing the other person's idiosyncrasies, looking for a sign that their mate is seriously odd only to find out that I too share some of those quirky qualities. I love when my mom says Brian and I act like we're a ninety-year-old couple with no specific reason as to why but just a simple, "because of the way you two are."

Sometimes I feel like Noah's Ark is a humongous, round green and blue ship called Earth and we have found or are all looking for a mate to pass the time aboard with.

I love watching my friends and their children, remembering how the crazy act of two people falling of love lead to a bunch of little people with eager eyes, little fingers, infectious laughter and bustling abodes.

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Furrowed Brows

I know this man with furrowed brows and a deep stare. There's an air to his gait and no hesitation in his steps. Even though he appears stern, in his eyes and smile lives a gentleness that has no boundaries. I know this man very well and yet it seems I don't know him at all. Thirty years ahead of me and I wonder what life was like for the boy with furrowed brows learning and discovering the world on Haitian soil.

With a magic mirror, I'd travel back in time and sneak into his room fifty years ago to watch him closely. I'd see what familiar signs, I could recognize. I'd watch him wander through the fields and hear him speak his native tongue. I'd look for his mother and sit with his family during dinner, wondering what conversations I missed and never heard. 

I'd follow him to New York and watch him drive a cab. I'd go with him into the Air Force and be an invisible navigator. I'd watch him in his classrooms, unable to back down from a debate. I'd recognize the flamboyant Devietro, a classmate he told me about with ruffles and dainty embellishments.

I'd glance at him carefully pull a newly purchased jazz album out of its cover and set it down for the first time on his record player.

I would flash forward to the day his first son was born and watch those furrowed brows closely to see if I could understand how he felt the moment he became a father for the first time. After his second son was born, I'd sit there invisibly watching him gaze at his two sons play together (the youngest one, a bully) and think of what dreams he might have lingering in his head at that moment.

If I could rewind time to watch the life of the man with furrowed brows, I could wage the gap of thirty years between my father and I. It's hard to imagine their lives before us because we are so defined by them being our parents.

But today, on this day, in this quiet moment...

I think of the boy, teenager, and young man who became my father.

Saturday, June 2, 2012

Unexpected Beings

Last night, one of my friends was talking about how at this time in her life, the people she thought would be there for her weren't and the people that were in her life were unexpected. It is strange, this thing called time that weaves in and out the people in our lives like stitches on a quilt.

In my deepest of hearts, I believe that people are in your life for a reason and once that purpose is done, they are eclipsed. It isn't that they don't exist anymore, it is just that the universe has called them to do something else.

A few things that took me years to understand are that I have changed, am constantly changing and will change. My definitions of life, love and friendship when I was six, eighteen, twenty-five and today have similarities but have evolved as I have evolved. My expectations from people have changed because I am more concerned with the expectations I have for myself. My focus has shifted from analyzing the bad in relationships to appreciating what and who brings love and light to my life.

I have also learned to acknowledge the best friend that I have often ignored and ridiculed repeatedly--the one that never leaves and is always there...Me. I am one of my best friends and it feels awkward writing that but I believe that we often forget that the face staring back at us in the mirror is a face of love, hope, promise and compassion.

Sometimes the reason a person is in your life takes a lifetime to uncover. Where my mom, dad and brothers are concerned, they are pillars in my life that I continually learn from and feel like their purpose is infinite.

Brian also falls in this category but our purposes are simultaneous. As he changes, so do I, so do we. We're a meteor traveling through the galaxy absorbing everything around us as we fly forward. As he teaches me something about himself, I learn more about who I am and the definition of "us" transforms.

I am thankful for the people in my life and I am thankful for me being in my own.
*I titled this blog Unexpected Beings because at some point in my life, I believed (and I guess, I still kinda do) that I am from a different planet. I am just an alien visiting earth and the people I connect with are aliens too. We are light beings temporarily living here until we return to our home planet.