A Universe expressed through a Window of Experience

3 Reasons to Live

The mother of my son, Reka (top) and my sister, Kita (bottom)

The mother of my son, Reka (top) and my sister, Kita (bottom)

I can be real insensitive when it comes to holidays because I don’t like being obligated to celebrate. I wrote this yesterday and decided to post this today. I wanna speak on 3 very important reasons why I live.

Markita

My sister, Markita is a two-time Mother. I have more tidbits about her children than I have about her. A generous portion of my time has been dedicated to those two, yet what I am to them is also in support of my sister’s position. I remember her telling me that her ex-boyfriend Derrick was a dwarf. It was intriguing to me especially coming from my sister; but, not as intriguing as her becoming a mother. She didn’t become a mother during high school, but in reach for an industrious license in nursing she exchanged one graduation for the other – to be a mother. I see now that she mirrors my mother’s tolerance. The family acknowledges that my sister’s culinary skills exceed our mother; and Kita sports it like a badge. She carries a silent strength, and summons it in the most critical moments. Her decision to leave Derrick can be awarded to human instinct or woman’s intuition, but that hush-hush strength was undoubtedly instrumental in propelling her to stability with the family. I’ve never been afforded an intimate observation of her caregiving skills, but she’s got it. And just like many women, she’s looking for affection and companionship. I love the fact that she doesn’t allow her career as a mother to deter her from her financial and professional goals. Kita has the caregiver spirit within her, and I sense that diving into the nursing profession is going to be a terrific marriage. Kita can be read in a couple of ways. Sometimes she’s bears this very stern I-don’t-play-that-sh!t attitude; it’s a camouflaged ferocity really. It’s not expressed with sarcasm that’s as poignant as hot-sauce. But, if she catches a hint of suspicion about you, it will be felt in a very recluse way. But usually, Kita moves like a R&B song with her soft-spoken voice that’s resembles her spirit. She endures a lot of pressure with Amari due to his bone-brittle ailment; but she’s learning. She doesn’t have time for life’s thrills. Even in the pictures that I’ve captured her in, there’s always an image of her with the kids. It seems that life has slowed down a lot for her at such an early age. She doesn’t complain about the fact that she has yet to collide recklessly in love with her aspirations. And very rarely does she nag about going to the club, the theme park, or a salon. She’s not high-maintenance nor is she ghetto. She has a very commendable balance of pragmatism and emotional content. I’m excited to see her master these aspects of her personality. Like I said, Kita is a very simple woman whom was family-oriented early in life. We always fashioned this complex closeness; supported each other, but not in the traditional brother-sister way. I never had to fight for her, and she never had to screen the women I was with……(laughs) that’s a lie….she kept an eagle eye on my ex-wife! And she was a ninja about it too (chuckles). Ultimately, I’m very excited about Kita’s career as a mother because she’s showcased her inherent capacity to love without expectation. In a few years, my sister will parallel the Oracle from the Matrix…..she just has this quiet essence that cradles so much intensity….she’s just unraveling her gifts slowly.

Reka

Reka and I are bonded by our son. And unless there’s a blood test that contests this reality, I’m going to act as such. I haven’t always respected this reality though. I’ve confessed in my previous blogs of my treachery in the midst of our relationship. We nurtured a very stable friendship that had a healthy blend of wild sex. We were very promiscuous and youthful; and with each of us coming from an impoverished lifestyle, we were on an expedition of self-discovery. I had my little sphere of women on the side, and she had her little compass of men that she kept pocketed away. We’d go clubbing together, fishing for new ventures; yet we always agreed that if we didn’t get any bites…we’d spend the night with each other. It was an adventurous life complimented by the job security that the US Army offered. It’s perplexing how all that fun dies when the unexpected is enlivened. When she announced that she was pregnant, I was cloaked in denial. I never really considered her feelings back then because of my self-centeredness. If motherhood is a type of graduation, I resented hers during those years; mainly because it involved my graduation into fatherhood. I guess I wanted to be held back a grade. I was absent for the childbirth due to my military obligations – my unit was progressing through a field training exercise in California. And when I asked my 1st Sergeant about attending the childbirth, I was denied – and I accepted it without a fight. “We need you here, Nick”. Reka needed me there. I needed to be there. What have I done differently from my father in those moments? I was unsupportive….during the pregnancy and after the birth. I remember when I even asked her if she was going to keep the baby. She was flabbergasted. But, the mixture of dismay and anger that she experienced when I refused to marry her was tiny compared to the sting of betrayal when I married Angela (whom was my ex-girlfriend at the time) 5 months later. I administered an uncompromising venom to Reka’s life from that point forward. She struggled through her military career; staggering through the hormonal storms of pregnancy while still recovering from a catastrophic heartbreak. She became vacuumed in another relationship that casted her into a field of suffering. Sarya was born, and her father supplied Reka with the same sting of betrayal that I dealt her. Over time, Reka was discharged from the Army because she couldn’t adapt to the added pressure of her life. This is in light of a deployment to Iraq and caring for a child…solo. The 6 years that succeeded afterwards would be an unprecedented ocean of deterred hopes and overwhelming conflicts. She sought solace back in Florida, gathering the shards of her dreams, and molding what she could out of them. And I would maintain my stride as a married man complimented with a successful career and the spoils of a lavish lifestyle. Was it fair to her? Some would call her a fool for love, yet disappointments are packaged with the gift of life. I’m glad she issued a child support order back then, because somehow, she managed to survive on that plus welfare. She was always resisted in receiving support; this resistance has always motivated her in being self-sufficient. << She’s still working on that.  I admire the fact that she never gave up. All women don’t accept the call of motherhood; they let that phone ring off the hook as they’re out at the club marketing themselves for marriage and exotic sexcapades. I also admire her courage in cutting through the webs of resentment that she had towards me.

She forgave me in 2009. And I forgave myself as well. And from that meadow of forgiveness, we streamed toward making a better future for the kids.

Reka may not be the most resourceful or the most intelligent, but she has spirit. She’s endured a blizzard of disappointments, and yet still, her heart remains warm enough to shelter her kids alone at times. And in her stride to support her labeled friends and family, she has muscled through more betrayal than I have. Consequently, I’m not sure if I would be able to accomplish what I have without her contributing so much energy to the kids…even if we were on a discord on parenting methods. We differ in a lot of ways, but I’m proud that she’s the mother of my child. A lot of black men don’t and won’t say that about their children’s mother in this era. She’s matured over the 8+ years that I’ve known her. And often, when I think about her, the 2nd verse to Geto Heaven (Pt. 2) settles in mind….the 2nd verse stands out the most. Deep down, I want for her what I want for all women….independence.

Love, your happiness don’t begin with a man
Strong woman, why should you depend on a man
I understand you want a man that’s resourceful
If he pay your bills, he feel like he bought you
Talkin to a friend, about what love is
Her man didn’t love her, ’cause he didn’t love his
Hugged her from afar, said what I felt
You never find a man, till you find yourself
Time helps mistakes, you can learn from
One man fucked up, but  you shouldn’t turn from
A certain type of guy, gotta reach a certain point too
At the destination, a king will annoint you
Goin through the storm, many bodies stay warm
That relationship died, for you to be born, you worth more
Than anything you could cop in a store
For you to grow he had to go so what you stoppin him for
Not even I could ignore bein alone it’s hard
Find heaven in yourself and god – Common

Denise

I’m writing a book about my mother….and it’s not for sale. My life’s experience with her is the book itself; occasionally I capture her on film and with words as a reminder. On the morning of Mother’s Day (1am), I delivered a gift to her. First, I relayed the gift that came from Eric, whom I mentioned before is an extended family member. My mother is not so enthusiastic in receiving gifts as she is giving them; simple acknowledgement is enough. But she shows the appreciation because she knows from experience that life begets life. We talked to Eric via Kinect on the XBOX 360 for a while. When we concluded the dialogue, I used the app on the XBOX 360 dashboard to bring up this video…..followed by the video from yesterday. And yes…there were tears, hugs, and smiles.

 

For now, little needs to be said or written….we are what we are. And it’s forever a sterling truth.

I’m living to make sure that I support these 3 women in my life. They don’t ask for a whole lot, and they’re not difficult to satisfy. It is within my power to give them more because of this awareness. They weren’t afforded the best schools or the more furnished economic lifestyles, but they’ve multiplied so much with so little. << That requires creativity, will, and observation. They’ve taught me a lot about being a father without really teaching, but just being. My family life relies heavily on their existence…and since I’ve been home, it’s been evermore …a…parent.

I look at my left hand as I conclude this journal entry. Under my index finger is a cross. This cross (in this specifically area of my hand) indicates a successful family life. I see now that these 3 women are instrumental in making this marking on my palm true to life. They are celestial planets of my destiny, enforcing my purpose. And I thank the Prime Creator for their presence.

2 responses

  1. That was beautiful!! I loved your words, the video, and the ding especially! 🙂

    May 14, 2013 at 1:14 am

  2. I meant song… *Sorry*

    May 14, 2013 at 1:15 am

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