Annush in the Sky with Diamonds**: family

Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

Sunday, May 08, 2011

Happy Mother's Day :)

I don't need a special day to tell you this but I love you mom!!!

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

#WeddingWednesday: The Love of My Life

I met the love of my life on April 9, 1981.

I don't remember the specifics, after all I was only a year old, but I do know that I have never in my life felt a love so intense as the love that I have felt for my brother all this time. At the risk of sounding inappropriate or even slightly disturbed, I am convinced that Ivan is my soulmate and that had the stars (and our genes) aligned differently, he would have been "the one".

So what does this have to do with anything?

According to Latina Lifestyle Bloggers, today is #WeddingWednesday . As everyone knows, I hate weddings so this topic definitely takes me out of my comfort zone. For the record, I don't believe in marriage. Not only do I find the institution dated, I find the concept ridiculous by every standard.

Still, it's somewhat ironic and I would be completely amiss if I didn't mention that my brother Ivan is celebrating his wedding this coming July.

Before Ivan got engaged, we went out to dinner and he told me all about his plans to propose to the woman he had been dating. I gave him my full support and told him that in the same way I would help him hide the body were he ever to kill someone, that he would not be alone in this either.

Still, I didn't like the woman. I still don't. I find her to be too tall, too thin, too pale, too simple, too quiet, too indecisive, etc. In her defense though, I have never liked any of the girls he has dated. I think he deserves the best and I don't know that in my eyes any woman will ever measure up. And it sucks for her because if she has agreed to spend the rest of her life trying to be the woman he needs, she has also indirectly agreed to spend the rest of her life proving to me that she is the woman that he deserves.

She has been warned by everyone, friends, family, even strangers, that my love for my brother is greater than even my love for myself. I think the world will bear witness of this at their wedding when they see that I won't be a bridesmaid and presume to be her ally because I will be standing in my rightful place by my brother's side.

People think that I am very stern and unyielding in regards to my beliefs.

This may be so.

But if I were to choose to be flexible or aloof, it would not be at the expense of my brother. If I were to settle, even if for the sake of convention, I would be failing him and this is simply unacceptable and hence not an option for me.

My brother is getting married.

...and this may very well be the only wedding I will attend/ have attended in my adult life (unless my other brother decides to get married) and rather than preoccupy myself with mindless nonsense like the color of a plate or a dress, I will take this #WeddingWednesday to celebrate family. My family.

This July, Giselle is taking a husband. A husband who happens to be my brother. And in acceptance (though not agreement) with social conventions, I am trusting her to care for the love of my life.

Tuesday, March 08, 2011

...on women's day...

In the past I've written about how I come from a matriarchal family.

Somewhere in the archive of this blog there are many stories about strong women who were the heads of their families, the breadwinners, and the ones who made sure that the kids went to school so that they would have a better life.

We hear stories about families that get caught in perpetual cycles. Not in my family. My great grand mother never went to school. The woman didn't know how to read or write and still she understood the importance of education and the need for her family to overcome adversity. Almost 100 years ago my illiterate great grandmother was a small business owner.

My grandmother went to school. She went to school long enough to learn how to read, write and do basic math. It was more than it was expected from girls at the time, but it was something that my great grandma understood would guide my grandma to a better life and with hard work and little formal education, she became a seamstress and when she found herself a single mother of 3 girls she did just as my great grandmother had done before: she sent her girls to school and pushed forward.

My mother is an attorney. Despite the fact that grandma never made it to college, she understood that not going to college wasn't an option so my mother lived by her example. My mother has succeeded beyond anyone's wildest expectations and all because grandma worked 3 jobs so that her girls could get an education.

And then there is me.

I was always told that I had to excel at everything because I was a woman and as such one day I would have to fend for my family. I have two brothers. And though they were given every opportunity to grow and learn, the focus was always on me- the disadvantaged one. So at 30 years old I have all the tools I need to lead a great life and, of course, to be the one to take care of my family if need be.

Today is international women's day and all day long I've been getting congratulated and seen women give each other high fives as if we, as women, have achieved gender equality. Quite frankly, it makes me sad.

Today is meant to be an acknowledgement of how far we've come but mostly a reminder of how far we still have to go. I don't want to hear a congratulations when I know that there are girls out there who don't get an education because mom is at work and someone needs to take care of the household. I don't want to hear a congratulations, when I know that women still don't earn the same as a man for the same work. I certainly don't want to hear a congratulations when I see that my rights over my body are still debated like I'm incapable to choose for myself.

I think we should take a minute to think about these things before we do the victory dance.

Our plight is still nowhere near over.

Saturday, October 02, 2010

The soup chronicles

I talk a lot about my resemblance to Mafalda, which in my mind is mostly the hair. But there is one thing we don't have in common: I love soup. Due to the fact that I live in Miami, soup is not something I eat often. Let's just say that with this heat, even gazpacho is awful.

For the past 12 days I've been doing the clean detox program. Blame Gwyneth or Demi or who you will but after trying it, I feel great. I can't really explain it and I certainly won't recommend it to everyone but living caffeine-dairy-soy-gluten-sugar-caffeine-alcohol-preservative free has done wonders for me.

In it's two liquid meals a day goodness, it's made me crave soup.

...and not any soup, but my grandmother's "sancocho".

Let's back up a little. I'm a vegetarian. I'm not particularly fond of Dominican food. Furthermore, I tend to throw hissy fits at the thought of particular vegetables -ie. plantains (or is that even a vegetable?)

Anyway, all I've been thinking about is that soup. The soup my mother made with 5 different kinds of meat (who knew there were 5!) and that my grandma spent tons of time sifting through a colander to ensure that I would only have the broth. The soup my great-grandma used to make with animals from her farm.

My mother is turning 51 today. And this didn't come into being a material fact to this story until way after she agreed to modify the recipe so that it would have only chicken (for flavor) and I would have my grandmother's soup.

We are modern. We are hardcore. We BBM. And my mom patiently texted and modified my grandmother's recipe so that I would have a great soup to eat. In return, I skinned and removed fat from a chicken (ewwww) for the sole purpose of meeting her half way. Of meeting out tradition half way. As much as I'm a creature of habit, I couldn't concede to the whole 5 meats bit. But I could deal with one.

And yet it got to be too late. I skinned and seasoned and it got too late to spend the next 3 hours making a soup and that's when it hit me: as the clock struck midnight it was mom's birthday.

My chicken is marinading in the fridge until tomorrow when I can give it 3 hours of attention; but today my mother turns 51. And as she was turning 51, rather than celebrating in the way I would (okay not in the way I would but at the very least champagne in hand) she was there passing down our family's history to me who only wanted a soup.

And it makes you think. It's made me think.

I wished her happy birthday and she thanked me for giving her the opportunity to share her soup with me. What was originally just for me, became a family history lesson. Yet, it was part of the family history that had been changed just once. For me. For the one who wouldn't eat meat.

It is my mother's birthday but it is also a point when we caught our family evolving. I am the first down the line who has refused to have the 5 meats. But my mom was so proud. She said she knew one day I'd call to our ancestors.

I did. But I only wanted soup.

Monday, September 14, 2009

stop pressuring me.

Apparently blogs are not anonymous. I know that in my case it doesn't make a difference because this blog has only been intermitently anonymous but deep down this ruling is unsettling because certain things should be kept private should the writer deem it so- AS LONG AS it's not a threat to someone's well being (calling someone a skank is not a threat to their well-being).

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I know I've been M.I.A. lately. I've been busy turning 30 and dealing with all of that fun stuff. Patrick Swayze died today and these days it seems like a lot of people are checking out... It makes me think that maybe they know something we don't...

Death is a part of life and I like to believe that death is the end of it. I don't believe in heaven or hell but I find comfort in knowing that there is a definite end- like a story. The End. I do believe in lagacies though, and the connections we forge and the people we change.

Years ago, when I was a young girl, I remember when Michael and Janet Jackson released that song "Scream". I always thought that was the coolest song ever because it was a brother and sister collaboration which automatically made it extra-awesome. I saw that video earlier as shown on the VMAs.

I have 2 brothers I love dearly. I can't imagine trying to live through life without them. And there was Janet, dancing with her dead brother in homage of him.

She is a better person than me.

I wouldn't have been able to. Even in memoriam.