Skip to content

Posts tagged ‘Family’

Aug 9

1 Comment

Roaming Thoughts: A Blog Post

Parts of the city of Geneva and Lake Geneva wi...

Image via Wikipedia

The buzz of the birds shines outside our window in Geneva, Switzerland, jet lag still a dear friend so as she breathes heavily due to an impromptu day nap, I sit myself in front of you to spill the churning thoughts inside me.   Poetic I am not, overly bored definitely.  I am smiling involuntarily as images of dancing with my friends and family is still looking to be filed away to become a distant memory yet the amazing wedding and love shown are making me reluctant to tuck away wedding month of celebration.  I dare not admit that 5 years ago, this seemed impossible, with many writing off (including myself) a big wedding, instead hoping someone from her side would show up.   Yet, I seem hard pressed to remember that time, instead I am surrounded by smiling happy faces from both sides, her loving brothers, her amazing parents and finally my always there family, culminating in 7 perfect events, 1000s of pictures, 100s of hours of movie footage but more than a lifetime of commitment to each other and our families, yet somewhere lost between are the small little moments we had, rough to sweet and I wonder what it is that makes a marriage (yeah, can you tell I am married now)?  When does a couple stop being lovers and friends and move on to becoming a loving partnership?  I ask because only in a true partnership can we accept each other strengths and weaknesses, soldering them together to become even stronger, even more agile and finally even more loving.  When we are lovers and friends, we each have distinct needs and wants that need to be taken care of, but in a marriage everything becomes conjoined, shared, split, experienced together otherwise your just two really good roommates who happen to get it on once in a while, aren’t we?

So here I sit, while her snoring gets louder, and I still at the various images hitting my head, from the little things friends did for me (sing when they weren’t planning on it, plan a bachelor party for 13 loud and picky guys, fly down even thought we hadn’t seen each other in years), just a multitude of kindness that I am not sure I can ever repay to the present moment.  She lies in bed snoring away at 9pm (12 noon our times) and in room my thoughts roam and I wonder (yet again), how I ever got this lucky. :)   It is becoming hard to sign off, to stop this post because the smile is not going away but the dread of what lies in the future remains.  So she snores and I roam…

Related articles

May 30

5 Comments

My Writing Sucks: A Blog Post

Janss Steps, Royce Hall in background, UCLA

Image via Wikipedia

For the first time since I started on my UCLA extension classes, I am wondering what made me think I could actually write.  This is the first time also I took only one class, and yet it feels as if my entire certificate for creative non fiction depends on it.  The class is for personal essays, how to write one and get published.  We have only written 5 essays but it feels as if I have written 50.  The worse part: my writing absolutely, without any doubt in my mind, sucks.  I mean it’s awful.  Instead of showing, I am telling. Instead of describing people, I am using stock characters.  And grammar? Forget about it, it looks like I stopped around 8th grade.

At first, it was easy to blame the class (teacher sucks, essays too general, no lectures, etc) and then I realized that the issue really was me.  My first topic was about my grandfather, the second about my mom and sisters opening up Ziba, the third about my difficult writing, and the fourth and fifth about cancer.  Each topic emotionally loaded for me, but more importantly not really dealt with at the time so as I began writing, I lose myself into that time period so the writing resembles that of a child.

Writing about Ziba and my dad;s drinking is just plain hard mainly because I have such mixed emotions about it.  When Ziba started, I was at UCLA and then Law school and I was 13 when my dad drank and it has had a powerful effect on me.  The main reason its hard because Ziba is in my lifeblood and I love my dad so much now, more so because he is one of the few people I know in my life who did a 180 turn in life to save his family.  I have so much respect, pride and love for him that it’s hard to look at a time when I felt nothing for him.  As for Ziba, it;s just hard to write about it because I have the guilt that I could have done so much more and that perhaps I didn’t have much to do with it for it to be successful.  In a way, maybe I am riding it coattails, but then I see my family and they just don’t see it like that and won’t let me either.

Finally, my love and cancer. This part’s the hardest just because it was so recent but more importantly it involved someone I love so completely that it’s hard to imagine being without her.  So here I am, in a personal essay class where all the essays are so personal that they don’t mean much to others because I havent dealt with my own issues, and thus the writings are full of meandering thoughts and emotions that frankly aren’t very fun to read if I was totally honest with myself.  Let’s hope I figure it out soon before I truly feel like a failure.  I am open to suggestions :)

Related articles

May 8

To My Mom: A Blog Post

Mother's Day

Image via Wikipedia

by Jemal Yarbrough

This Mother’s day, I failed to give my mom material gifts, failed to organize a brunch at a 5 star restaurant, failed to even give her a card, instead all I had to offer her was my undying love expressed through the beautiful words of my nieces who did write wonderful cards to their mothers. As she sat there, and heard aloud their words, I sorely wished my mom could hear how their words were all of ours.  How 2 sixteen year old’s  managed to capture all of our angst, hurt sorrow and love.    We shared just a few hours with mom, letting her know how much she means to us when in reality if we could spend the rest of our lives thanking her, it would not be enough.

I haven’t made it easy for her, from the sicknesses to my idealistic business plans, it’s always been something out of the norm, and yet she has accept each and every single instance in my life with grace I can only dream to pass onto my children.  Her patience, seemingly limitless, her faith undying, but most of all, her love, always there for the taking with nothing expected in return.  It amazes me how much she takes on a daily basis, and always seems ready for more, weakness something that doesn’t seem to exist in her, strength and love her weapons of choice.

It used to be easy to buy her expensive gifts to show her how much I loved her until it hit me that a single heartfelt hug did more for her than a $2000 LV bag ever could.  Even in gifts, she managed to teach that the only ones of value are the ones that come from the heart regardless of cost.

Thank you mom, for always teaching, for always being there but most of all, for always loving me defects and all.  I love you

Feb 16

1 Comment

Almost There

by Jemal Yarbrough

The mural next to these words marks a strong contrast to the real world facing me outside: grey, dreary, drizzling enough so even the dog doesn’t want to go around and sniff aimlessly. Just paid all the bills and miraculously have exactly 11 cents to my name, well to our names to be precise, so I have plenty to frown about, but I am not.  In fact, seems nothing can get me down.

The heart is light, can’t stop smiling, and looking forward to the week ahead. It’s funny how certain things don’t matter as much when so much has happened.  Friends who you cared about deeply barely a bleep, strangers who you ignored now dear acquaintances, but you know over all, that you matter a lot to many out there, and that’s enough.   Each one in our lives contributed the way they could, or better yet the way they were meant to.  This was our battle, and they were just the small break shops that give you water and food so you have the strength to keep going.  Blaming those for not running with you was not only realistic but completely unfair.  True, the damage is done but I know my friends, they will bounce back since those who know me well know that I hold no ill will.  More like, it was a cry for help but I managed to push some away and for that I will always be sorry.  The choice to continue is really up to them because although I am sorry, I am not going to be a slave to regret for the rest of my life.

I finished my first short story in years, and while I am tempted to share it here, I know it still needs to be tightened up more.  Who knew in the whirling days of chemo and radiation, an idea would be born. On this dreary day, my heart shines, smiling at the thought of her being almost done.  Nothing else matters really.  All the old accusations, decisions, bad thoughts, put away to stand clear for the finish line.  Who knew that in a matter of weeks, we will put this saga behind us and while the results are not 100%, they are good enough for me. Can/t worry about what’s not there or has not happened.  Actually, that’s not true. It is 1005 over in a week, and what will come next, I cannot worry about.  For now, I have her to love fully, full-time, and always. Also  my dear friends and family who are always there.  We are almost there, thank you for coming along this bumpy ride.  Hope I didn’t scar you too much. :)

Related Articles

Jan 6

Prayers, Friends and Family

Goodenough, PhD

Image via Wikipedia

 

by Jemal Yarbrough

 

In the fading light of the day, I say a small prayer for my friend’s father who passed away 2 nights ago.  The house is quiet as usual, and she rests uneasily but expectantly for the nausea to follow.  A friend had just visited, the  worry lines creased deep into her forehead due to the recent seizure experienced by her little brother. 2011 seems to be foreboding, and I wonder if more bad news is to come.

But that really is the easy way out.  What is it about a series of bad events that makes us believe that we are unlucky or somehow cursed?  I close my eyes and see my family, and nothing but joy gratitude and loves comes into my soul.  There is not a single relative that I don’t love with all my heart and soul.  It almost seems like heresy to believe that I have the perfect family.  I know my love for them is imperfect because I do not thank God or revel in my blessings of having a truly amazing family enough.  I would daresay that my family is worlds better than the ones I hear about in fictional novels.  I have the ULTIMATE FAMILY, and their wondrous love and prayers are the reason I can sit here clacking away while she struggles with her pain.

Their thoughts and prayers are the reason I know with all my heart and soul that this too shall pass.  That this stupid Cancer is merely a minor bump on the long road of life.  And I pray even harder.  Pray for my blessings, pray that I am at the unfortunate cross roads to hear about friends parents dying, sibling suffering uncalled for pain,  and it makes me ache for my mom and dad who are merely a block away from me physically but always reside in my heart.  I fall in love each time my sisters come over or her brothers do.  Her mom’s pain reverberates in my heart, and I wish I could inhale all their worry and fear.  So I thank God yet again for joining us with them.  For giving us real soldiers so we can mercilessly kill the killer.

And then I come to my friends.  I always thought I had a few good friends, but this recent adventure of ours has introduced me to an amazing soul:Biba, who has selflessly given her time and energy to heal the love of my life.  She made the chemo session seem as just a routine doctor’s visit and I do not think I can ever thank enough.  And then there are others who think they can achieve comfort by merely texting or leaving quick voice mails.  Don’t get me wrong the concern is real but it’s minuscule as if the disease she’s batting is minor or one that can fit in 140 characters or less.   The sad part is that healing her takes nothing more than their physical contact but it’s treated as if  she’s not worth that.  And it hurts.  But we move on because we have to, and we will remember.  They are the past, and the future we have looks brighter due to the shining souls in our life.  The rest of them can take their indifferent asses back to Facebook, Twitter and texts, and become as irrelevant as the social media horse they rode in on.

Related Articles

Jan 1

Day of 1/1/11: I am number 1!

 

by Jemal Yarbrough

 

Too many unanswered texts, too few call backs, too much selfishness. I picked the picture to the right because it illustrates to me that there are many who will just continue with their lives not really concerned about friends or family.   I can’t but help be fascinated at the raw emotions I feel as those who I considered close to me once have left me to languish in the toughest battle of my life.  Others have surprised me at their tenderness and care and still other’s I cannot fathom their immaturity.  The reality is that friends come and go, family does the best it can, but only I can make the life I need to live.

So today, I celebrate letting go.  The 1′s being of particular important because at the end of the day I only have myself to rely on.  I no longer want to be dominated by disappointment, hurt or worse, Anger.  No longer will I give lip service to the ideal of being here NOW.  No longer will I dread cancer, chemotherapy, radiation or any of the myriads of  side effects we will face because the reality is we can either be overwhelmed by it or live day-to-day.

Moreover, I cannot expect people to be the way I want them to be.  They are going to be only true to their own nature and while some pay lip service to the ideals of great friendship or family, I just have to take it with a grain of salt.  I want today to be the only day I vent these sentiments because in the past 2 months alone, I know who my real friends and family are.  The rest just acquaintances who once provided fond memories and now just need to be relegated to old photo albums as reminders of a great past.  Some need to be removed completely, others left at a distance, and a few to be politely fake too because it matters to her so much.  So to some I say hello and to others Goodbye, it was nice while it lasted and thanks for the memories.

So 1/1/11 help me today to let go of the past, not worry about the future and just revel in the present.  That’s my gift to myself.

Related Articles
Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.