Death of a Family

I bet they would go bowling!

My family is DEAD to me! Well some of my paternal cousins are at least. My brother is the only person who loves me (in addition to my parents, granny, aunts and uncles).

the family rant

I love my family. I really do. But sometimes they drive me insane. This is not limited to just my parents and brother. Other family members irk me too, particularly some of my cousins. It's not like they do anything major to annoy me. Unfortunately my irritable personality syndrome magnifies the little things.

Still the last to know

It's happening again. Someone in the family is in a serious condition and no one bothers to tell me until DAYS later. I've said it before, I'm always the last to know when it comes to family matters.

The ultimate blocker

Blocker– block·er, noun, /ˈbläkər/ blockers, plural

Dictionary.com definition: A person or thing that blocks, in particular.
Urbandictionary.com definition: The person who blocks the progress of any “play” when a man is trying to talk to and flirt with a woman.

For years I have unjustly declared my father the ultimate blocker. Everyone wants to date the son of a preacher man, but such is not the case for the daughter. Numerous guys, real or imagined, were too afraid to pursue me because my father is a pastor (or maybe because they didn’t even know I was interested). Well there’s a new ultimate blocker in town and her name is MOMMY!

The Family Rules

Think I could write a book of reunion survival tips?

It’s family reunion time! This weekend yours truly is kickin’ it with the kin for the annual Lawson Family Reunion. We’ve been going strong for five years now. Yes, our reunion gatherings are fairly young, but momentum continues to build. The reunions have been in a variety of places including Belle Glade, Jacksonville, Atlanta and Orlando. This year we’re heading to West Palm Beach.

Family gatherings are always a joyous occasion for me. What’s not to enjoy? You’re together with all your family. The family elders talk about the past. The young folks talk about the present. The babies dream about the future. Family love is just all over the place.

There might be some people that find family gatherings less than appealing. Well no need to fear. If you’re headed to a family gathering anytime soon, I have a few survival rules to make the day as entertaining as possible.

1. Prepare funny responses to annoying questions and comments from family members, particularly Grandpa Buford, who you haven’t seen or talked to recently. If he asks, “When are you getting married?” just respond, “Never. I want to be a cat lady.” Then start meowing and rubbing your imaginary cat. This works if you’re a male or female.

2. When Uncle Buster starts telling you the stories from back in 1902 begin singing every last word of the sentence. He’ll look at you crazy, stop sharing and go tell Cousin Bridgette instead.

3. Do not, I repeat, do not eat anything cooked by Aunt Bessie who lives alone with two cats, three dogs, a ferret and a snake. They probably helped in the preparation process because she considers them her children. If she asks why you aren’t eating her runny potato salad, start asking to see pictures of her “babies.” She’ll forget all about it.

4. Once Cousin Bob and his new flavor of the month, Beatrice, start to argue, immediately find Grandma Bertha. Then grab a bag of popcorn to watch the fireworks that are sure to come when she gets to fussing at everyone. For some extra cash, pre-sell tickets to the upcoming fight of the century.
Ok maybe none of this takes place at your family gatherings. But just in case it does, you’ll be prepared.
*Disclaimer: Try at your own risk. I assume no responsibility for your family putting you in a jacket that makes you hug yourself all day.*

Family bonding time

My trips home are sometimes few and far between. I don’t do much when I come to visit anyway. Usually it consists of me coming home late on a Friday night or early on a Saturday morning, sleeping, visiting my grandma and going to church with my parents on a Sunday. Did I mention I have to sleep on the couch? There is no bed for me to lay my head, and my former room is now used for storage. Also my parents never had food. I usually have to grocery shop for myself. Not too much of a reason to come home, right?


Then last week at church I had an epiphany while the pastor was delivering his sermon: I missed my daddy’s preaching. That’s not to say the pastor in Lake City wasn’t a decent preacher, but after growing up under my daddy’s tutelage I have developed a certain affinity for his sermons. I toyed with the idea of going home this weekend. I was just home about two weeks ago, and I don’t like them getting too used to visits from me. Ma Dukes mentioned she was speaking at a church Sunday and that sealed the deal for me to come home.

I’m glad I did. If nothing else I got to enjoy ample amounts of family togetherness with the top people in my family. My mother and I were cuddle bunnies Friday night, and I talked her ear off while she tried to sleep. She probably wasn’t listening but just our moments of closeness made my night (until my daddy kicked me out the bedroom). Then Saturday night my daddy and I bonded over a showing of “Our Family Wedding.” We laughed and joked about what my wedding would be like (if it ever happens) Sunday night brought bonding with my little brother. Together we went to our granny’s house and visited with her and an aunt.

I might not do much on my trips homes but there is one activity that is always a given: family bonding. I may lack a bed and a room but their love is always there. That’s enough to make me come home any weekend.

Chronicles of Life ... Auntie-for-hire

At 24, my maternal instincts haven’t kicked in yet, but I am quite ready to be an auntie.
I want millions of nieces and nephews running around in shirts that say, “I’m as cute as my auntie,” or “Auntie’s baby.”
This fixation with being an aunt was bound to happen sooner or later.
I think aunties are the third greatest people after grandmothers, who are number one, and mothers who are number two.
Clearly if I’m not a mother I can’t be a grandmother. I do think I could definitely handle being a grandmother. You don’t have to put in nearly as much effort into raising grandkids as your did your own children (unless you are completely raising them).
I’m not at that level to be a mother, but oh an auntie I could be.
I tried the cool older cousin thing. It didn’t work because I had a heifer of an ex-cousin (yes, I do disown unappreciative kin).
I tried the cool young mentor thing. It was moderately successful during the school year.
Naturally, the next step is the cool auntie.
However, there are several obstacles standing in my way. The chief one being my only brother is still but a babe of 17.
He better not have children any time soon or I will beat him silly. Neither my nerves nor my parents’ could take him procreating just yet.
I do have millions of little cousins running around. I could probably claim one of them as a niece or nephew, but even that plan has a few flaws. Mainly I don’t think most of them even like me.
Perhaps it is because they don’t know me.
I was away in college when most of them were born. They know my brother and just look at me like, “Who are you and why should we care?”
It kind of lowers your self-esteem to hear a little child act all disinterested in you when you’re trying to bond but brighten up with such joy when they see everyone else, especially your brother. I’m not jealous, just unloved.
I need to start afresh with somebody else’s baby who can grow to adore me as the cool favorite auntie.
None of my friends are expecting, and even if they were we don’t live in the same area. The ones with nieces and nephews aren’t sharing.
So where does that leave me? Niece and nephewless.
Or does it?
Undeterred, I have decided to proclaim myself an auntie-for-hire.
I know there is someone out there whose children are lacking the joys of a cool, young and hip auntie. I just know I was meant to be such a person.
I would love to spoil somebody else’s child with lots of attention, gifts and whatever else being an auntie entails. I'm not really sure about all the duties of an auntie. Hopefully diaper changes, getting covered in drool and cleaning dirty noses aren't a part of it.
It can't be that hard, because at the end of the day the children go home to their parents. Not me!
Ralphie, my betta fish, and I can’t be bothered with full-time children. We’re just fine with part-timers.
I can’t possibly mess up a child with me for only part of the day.
I know my brother wants to have at least four children in the future. Well I can’t wait that long.
The time is now for me to be elevated to the status of auntie.
Now if only I knew who was in need of an auntie-for-hire. This future auntie is ready and waiting.

Chronicles of Life...Two of a Kind

There’s no escaping it. I am my mother’s child.
Not only do we look alike, but our personalities are similar... too similar.
People have always pointed out how we seem like carbon copies of each other. But we both used to brush it off.
“We are nothing alike,” I would say.
“She’s just copying me,” would be her response.
Now we’ve both realized the truth of the matter. We’re twins in more ways that one.
My cousin sent us both the “getting to know you Christmas edition” survey.
It had the usual questions such as wrapping paper or gift bags (gift bags), favorite Christmas movie (A Christmas Story) and song (This Christmas by Donny Hathaway) and most annoying thing of the year (bad children).
I filled out my answers and sent it to others, including my mom. I saw her answers later that day.
“You heffa!” I e-mailed her. “You copied my answers.”
(Yes, we affectionately call each other heffa and other variations.)
“No, you copied mine,” she sent back.
Actually, we both sent our answers independently of each other.
I know they say great minds think alike, but our responses were just too close for words. That’s when it truly hit me we are cut from the same cloth.
The signs have always been there. We both like to write, enjoy photography and are crazy in a funny way.
Sometimes, I feel like I’m looking at a mirror when I see my mother. And of course her issues usually are the same ones I have.
I seek guidance from my mother for a lot of things. Who better to know your than someone exactly like you?
Of course there are differences.
I’m more of an extrovert and she’s the introvert. I’m happy to be nappy and she religiously goes to get that fresh relaxer.
Growing up, I used to think we were like oil and water: we don’t mix. The truth is we were too much alike.
Two Alpha Females cannot live together. But once I went to college we were just fine.
We still have our oil and water moments, but not as much. I think we’ve come to an understanding about one another.
She does things her way. I do things mine, and often we do them just alike.
Maya Angelou best sums us up in her poem “Human Family.”
“In minor ways we differ, in major we’re the same. ... but we are more alike, my friends, than we are unlike.”
Besides I kind of enjoy being like my mommy.

Chronicles of Life... a teenage love affair

My baby’s growing up!
Actually, he’s not a baby anymore.
The boy (aka my brother) has fancied himself on my level since I can remember. The fact that he’s newly 16 only further proves his theory that he is “grown.”
Whatever!
I will admit AQ (another nickname) is very mature for his age. He had to be.
All my cousins and I were already eight plus years older than him when he was born.
We didn’t care he was the last grandchild. He had to get on our level pronto.
So we all treated him as an equal. Not to mention my parents didn’t do the whole baby talk thing.
Most of his friends are a few years older. His love interests range no less than one year older.
Let AJ (yet another nickname) tell it, he’s playa, playa from the Himalayas.
He claims he has more game than me, been in more relationships than me and can pull more girls in one day quicker than I can boys in a month.
I won’t deny that. I’m not into the whole dating thing anyway.
But dear brother has always been crazy for the ladies. Recently it seems he’s crazy for only one lady.
Awww!!! A “teenage love affair.”
I’m really digging Alicia Keys’ song “Teenage Love Affair.”
Granted, I think it’s weird she’s singing about high school emotions as an adult with a video set in college. But you’ve got to admit, the song is still catchy:
“Can’t wait to get home
Baby dial your number
Can you pick up the phone
Cause I wanna holla
Daydreaming about you all day
In school can’t concentrate
Want have your voice in my ear
‘Till mama comes and says it’s too late
Cause the lights are on outside
Wish there was somewhere to hide
Cause I just don’t want to say goodbye
Cause you are my baby, baby
Nothing really matters
I don’t really care
What nobody tell me
I’m gunna be here
It’s a matter of extreme importance
My first teenage love affair.”
Makes me reminisce about my first teenage love affair. OK it was at 22, but the feelings still apply.
I learned of the boy’s boo – although he vehemently denies there is a relationship – late this spring.
During one trip home, he kept me awake texting back and forth with her all night long (yes we share a bed because I no longer have a room). I was fit to be tied.
“Go to sleep,” I demanded.
“Get out my bed,” he retorted.
The floor was hard, but at least quiet that night.
I was only home for 2.5 days, but the whole time he was cakin’ on the phone. His inbox and outbox had no less than 500 messages.
Soon enough my deeply ingrained nosiness took over. I learned her name, age, location, you know all the vital big sis questions.
I think we bonded over talks of his “friend that is a girl.”
From what I understand, she’s a nice person.
My parents got to officially meet her Sunday. She was at church and of course Senior (my daddy) had to put the boy on blast.
“Deacon Norwood wants to see you after church, and I want to see the one sitting next to you,” Senior announced.
That’s exactly why I never brought anyone home. Well that and the fact I don’t really date.
My mother, who doesn’t like anybody, even liked her. Now I just have to meet her and give my seal of approval.
I’m excited to officially learn of someone my brother has an interest in. In a way it show’s me he’s growing up and not the little baby I use to dress up in doll clothes.
That will be an interesting topic of discussion or his wifey one day.
But I doubt wedding bells will be ringing anytime soon.
He is only a teenager. And there is a certain friend of mine he would drop all others for in a heartbeat if she would merely bat her eye lashes at him.
Ah teenage love: so fresh, so fickle.

Chronicles of Life... Family Affair

The Lawson’s shut it down again!
I had the pleasure of attending my second annual family reunion this past weekend in Jacksonville.
Yeah we started late.
There had been some talk for years of having one, but we all procrastinated on the idea.
The family finally realized how desperately we needed to have a reunion after my great-grandma died in 2006.
I think we brushed off the idea for so long because my family is pretty close knit in one way.
Church service every week was a mini family reunion for me. Pearl – my grandmother – and all her progeny went to the same little white church by the side of the railroad.
We all lived no less than 15 minutes apart from each other.
Everyone, grandchildren and great grandchildren included, have stayed extensively with Pearl.
Before day care, there is Pearl care. Those who are in day care all go to the same one.
And holidays, oh the holidays, are jam packed with people.
Who needed a family reunion? We were thick as thieves with each other.
But that was mainly with those of Robinson (RIP Henry) descent.
Here’s a quick family tree for you.
My grandmother is the oldest of 11 children. She and two other siblings live in Jacksonville. Three are dead. One is MIA and four live in Belle Glade.
The Jacksonville crew is pretty close with each other, but Pearl’s children are a clan all in themselves.
We didn’t really know the Belle Glade crew that well. We only made that painstakingly long and boring trip a few times.
My third time would have been the funeral.
The Glades group is probably a clan to themselves down there.
Something needed to be done to unite us all.
So we made a pilgrimage to Belle Glade in 2007 to celebrate two hearts - Hambrick and Emma - that helped produce the Lawson family.
All the remaining siblings, except for the MIA uncle, and most of their children gather together at the reunions.
Some people are just not going to come, no matter what. But hopefully one day we all can reunite.
I mean, who would want to miss out on all the fun?
We have the kiddie crew, the young and fabulous crowd and the old timers.
The children act like a pack of wild animals. The fab adults play games and socialize and the old folks talk about the good old days.
There was talk of switching the reunion to every other year after this one.
Luckily one of the young and fabulous spoke out against it.
“Our parents and grandparents aren’t getting any younger,” he said. “A lot could happen in a year, and we don’t want the next time we get together to be a funeral.”
So next year we will journey to Atlanta and shut it down too. Yours truly is on the planning committee as the self-appointed activities director (I was the self-appointed consultant this year. I need to work on getting a real title).
A town might stay down, but now when the Lawsons are around.
Don’t you just love a family affair?

The Hartwell Chronicles ... Just the two of us

I have a mini me for the summer.
OK not quite a mini me, because she is definitely her own person.
My little cousin is staying with me in the lovely city of Hartwell.
The idea came about when me and her mom, my older cousin, talked about the need to remediate my brother’s behavior. His parents didn’t deem it necessary to send him to me.
But my cousin thought it would be a wonderful idea to send her daughter here.
She would get to experience a new cultural environment and actually go somewhere cool for the summer.
Err, cool might not be the word, but hey hanging with her older cousin should be fun right?
I’m young, hip and in the know.
Actually, there are those who say I am lame. Namely my brother and one of my friends.
I will admit, I am not the picture of perfection when it comes to being trendy and whatnot.
This isn’t Sex and the City here. It’s small town single (a forthcoming novel by yours truly. The title has been copy written by me.)
But what I lack in trendsetting, I make up for in my quirky yet entertaining personality.
Hopefully my cousin sees that.
She started crying right before we left from the family reunion saying she didn’t want to go. Then the yelling started from everyone.
“My daughter doesn’t need to deal with her drama,” my daddy shouted.
“Get your stuff out the car if you’re going to act a fool,” my grandma chimed in.
“You need to experience new things, so get in the car” her mom said.
It was driving me crazy. I know she was headed there too.
So she said she would go.
My family did a lot of teasing to my cousin right before she left, and I think that’s what got to her. They said I would be running a boot camp.
I am not.
Yes, I do make her read, write and practice diction. But that’s because she needs improvement in those areas, especially if she aspires to be a lawyer.
When she’s a supreme court justice, she’ll thank me.
And we’ve been counting calories and exercising. Her mom said she needs to lose weight.
She’s slightly shorter than me, but weighs almost the same amount. We both need to drop some major pounds.
You do not want to start high school overweight, believe me.
I guess what everyone failed to realize is she is only 14. She’s never been away from home in another state.
That can be challenging when you’re young.
No friends, no family except a lame-o cousin and a summer filled with unfun activities (wait they’re not that bad). I think I would have started crying too.
By the time we got down the highway and made it to Hartwell she seemed fine. We sung along to the radio, laughed at my bad driving and talked about how I live in a retirement community.
I have to remember to be her cousin and not her parent.
I’m sure I’ll have my share of day’s wondering, “What did I get myself into?”
She mumbles, doesn’t want to listen to me and keeps telling me to turn the lights off (in my own house nonetheless. Her point is we’re in a recession.)
But I’m sure she’s thinking the same thing.
She probably resents me for my lack of culinary skills, my school like structure and my many idiosyncrasies.
Oh well, nobody’s perfect. The two of us are stuck together this summer.