Am I My Brother's Keeper

Like most little brothers, I grew up idolizing my big Bro. I wanted to be as quick, cute, strong, and charismatic as he was. I wanted to attract females that were as pretty as his girlfriends. In fact, I began loving the Lakers only because he loved Magic and Kareem. Because I was his little brother, I could walk through my neighborhood knowing I would not be touched. This excluded his friends that believed the dumb ass notion that they could beat me up to make me tougher in the future. But for everyone else...hands off Baby Bro! Oh yeah, that dumb ass notion may have proven to be true.


The story sounds sweet so far, doesn't it? One would think its all good, right? Unfortunately for me, things changed pretty quickly at this point. Life as I knew it, for the entire ten years of my life, changed drastically. My brother left me. He moved three states away. I hated him for that. How could my mom allow this? Why didn't grandma stop this from happening? Why wasn't my opinion asked? It wasn't until many years later that I finally understood sometimes a young unprepared mother and an angry confused son is a recipe for disaster. I get it. I actually do understand. But still...that wasn't fair to me. I was at a funny age. A preteen in Jamaica Queens when crack was at its peak. Who would I learn the code of the streets from? Like many other black boys in my neighborhood, a big brother was the closest substitute for the commonly absent father. Damn, I started out with a father and big brother...what happened? Why did both of them leave me?


Fast forward to my High School years. I'm sure you've heard the saying "it will get worse before it gets better." No truer words were ever spoken (or written). Not only was my brother six hours away now, but then he decides to join the military. WTF! How could this happen? When I heard this news I immediately thought of Furious Styles telling Tre (Boyz In The Hood) that the "army ain't no place for a black man." As he was preparing to leave for the Gulf War, I was preparing for more senseless trouble here in New York. I now know I was simply angry, confused, and hurt. Tupac had become my idol. Negativity filled the void left by my brother. I started repeating F*&k the world at every opportunity, and I actually meant it. This is when I needed a big brother the most. Mischief and meaningless trouble began consuming much of my time.


Fast forward to his return. Yes, he's back. Several years later, but he's back. This is great, isn't it? Well, lets see. I've already had my first few fights. I've already "touched" my first girl. Damn, I even already experienced escaping the long arm of the law. I don't know what I need my big brother for now. He hasn't been around enough to teach me how to get over on mom and the other stuff I learned by trial and error. In fact, I found myself telling him how to keep mom off of his back. As he attempted to acclimate to the real world again and began his job search, I was in a position to offer some financial assistance. Having been forced to mature quickly, I understood then how difficult it must have been to accept anything from a little brother and more important, his one time biggest fan.


Fast forward to recent years. To avoid tears, not yours but mine, I'll keep this section's summary brief. My brother made me an uncle by having three children. My relationship with his children has brought us closer and been the root of some tough battles. I've often felt that my brother and I each felt, at different times, we were our brother's keeper. During this one sided post, I didn't mention the time I got jumped by some dudes and my brother arrived prepared to make sure they never ever jumped anyone again. I also neglected to mention his willingness to take a charge for me in an attempt to keep me out of "the system". Oh yeah, I also forgot to mention the time his gift of gab allowed me to spend some quality time with a woman I'd otherwise have no shot with.


In the past I felt the pressure involved with being my brother's keeper. I now realize why I have been. However, what I didn't realize is that in a weird way he can also say he has been my keeper. Maybe not directly, but there is very little doubt that our relationship has helped shape my personality. It is said that different people play different roles in the life of others. As the years pass so do the clouds that once blurred my vision of my past. I have yet to fully understand why our relationship has involved so many bumps and bruises (literally), but I have realized that they were necessary. I may regret admitting this to the world, but...I love you Big Bro.

A Gift & A Curse

Many people are fortunate enough to have great relationships with both sets of grandparents. Others aren't as fortunate. Some people are lucky enough to be spoiled by their grandparents. Others aren't as lucky. Few of us, yes I am including myself, are blessed to be the favorite grandchild. Maybe it is their unique ability to have us believe their world revolves around us. Maybe they make us feel so special that we create a reality that convinces us that we are their world. Whatever it is, I felt that I was the reason my grandmother opened her eyes every morning. It was great having someone that I could always count on to have my back. You know, the one voice my mother had to listen to. Yep, even when I was dead wrong. The only problem with truly believing you are the reason another person wakes up is one day at least one of you doesn't wake up. Then what? If you're anything like me and over analyze things, there are many questions left unanswered by this tragic happenstance.

On many occasions I have felt as if life threw plenty of shit in my direction. I often felt that not only did I have a bad hand, but maybe an entire deck without spades. Something was wrong. How could I always get the short end of the stick (whatever that really means)? Many years later, I view things differently. After maturing. After recognizing the benefits of being forced to handle adversity. After I no longer accepted my own excuses. After I began to get it. Who knew she had a bigger plan for me? Who knew the long road trips in which we talked about nothing until I fell asleep served a purpose? Who knew she expected me to accomplish things that she couldn't fathom? My grandma, that's who. Before my grandmother was chosen to reunite with her late husband, she helped set the path for me to be the man I've since become. I feel there are still several accomplishments not yet reached, but they will be in due time.

How much of me is her? Did I attend college an hour from her Maryland home because I had once lived there with her? Did I learn to navigate from New York to Maryland in my sleep (sometimes literally) because I had accompanied her so frequently on that same journey. Did I start buying property mainly because I always felt if she was able to do it with all of the barriers that were present, I had no legitimate excuses not to do the same. Over a decade has passed since I lost my grandmother and I am still learning about our relationship. One thing I learned quickly after she passed is that I really miss her. Maybe I'm nuts, but I honestly believe she misses me as much.

So, being the favorite has plenty of perks. I had my favorite meal prepared anytime I wanted. Unless Murder She Wrote , 60 Minutes, or Matlock were on, I was able to control the remote (okay...we didn't have a remote but you get the picture). Being the favorite also comes with plenty of pressure. I often felt the need to meet her expectations. Even when Alzheimer's entered the picture and she may not have remembered the expectations she set for me. In some ways the pressure has progressively increased because she is no longer physically with me. I recognize my growth and maturity. Because of this, I feel the bar to please her is that much higher. Maybe this is all my weird way of looking at things. Maybe I need excuses to pursue goals. Maybe I am just a bit confused because love often clouds our vision.

Whether you're the favorite or not, cherish time spent with those you love. The one thing you lose and can never find is time. Although I have no regrets regarding the time spent with my grandmother, I do regret not having more of it. In my opinion, the worst thing about being the favorite is I often think I hurt the most.

She Dumped Me

Okay, so I am about to show my vulnerable side. As the title suggests, I am writing about being dumped. Nobody enjoys being dumped. Being dumped hurts and often forces one to ask themselves several questions that can not immediately be answered. Well, I am currently asking many questions that I haven't been able to answer. Unfortunately for me, she dumped me. Why? Was it something I did? Did I say the wrong thing? Was I too hard on her? Are we growing apart? Will there be an even stronger bond when we get through this? I DON'T KNOW. I NEED ANSWERS.

Our relationship started off on the rocky side. It may be an understatement to say I didn't think I had a chance to get on her good side. Many years ago her mood would change for the worse as soon as I would get close. In fact, one time I got too close and she scratched my face. She actually scarred me. The scar lasted about three years. That was approximately ten years ago. The funny thing is shortly after that our relationship started to drastically improve. We began seeing each other more often. I was no longer away at college and had the time to foster a quality relationship. I began to take her out more often. We quickly reached a point we both looked forward to our time together. Me and my beautiful niece. It was great, she reminded me of me. She possessed so many of my habits and characteristics. I actually started to develop some of her habits. My closest friends know my niece taught me how to roll my eyes (don't judge me). Many thought we were a perfect pair. I called her my Princess. And yes, she often acted like one. The two of us were close to inseparable.

Fast forward to preteen years. This is the beginning of the sassy period. The start of body development. The confusing years that include changes...yeah, those changes. Some how things went from me getting two calls a day to not having my calls returned. Why did things change? Was it my increased role regarding the importance of school? Is it because I started discussing different career paths with a twelve year old that clearly couldn't care less? Is it because her favorite uncle became her most strict disciplinarian? Maybe, just maybe it is a necessary stage she has to go through. I went through a rough patch with my older niece when she was close to that age. That rough patch lasted approximately three years. Will I have to wait that long this time around?

Trust me...I'm trying to show patience. This ish hurts! My Princess acts like she doesn't want anything to do with me. Unfortunately for me, she doesn't view my wallet as an extension of me. I call her Princess and she calls me Uncle can I have. Being the bigger person here should be easy, right? She is the preteen drama queen, right? So why am I the one losing sleep? Why am I getting glossy eyed thinking about my Princess. Damn, getting dumped hurts. It hurts even when you know, or at least pray, it is only a temporary break.

Mama's Boy - Good thing or bad?

I'm going to act as if I didn't disappear for several months (I need you to play along). Let's just say if I did actually disappear (which I'm not admitting to doing) it was necessary for me to move forward. Now that I've gotten that out of the way...

Understanding that most of my readers are female, I have a few questions to ask. Is dating a "Mama's Boy" good or bad? Does it matter to you? Do you feel the relationship a man has with his mom is indicative of how he'll treat you? Am I reading too much into this? As you may already know, most of my close friends are female. Because of this, I have already heard several responses to these questions.

I am extremely close to my mother. In the past I have been called a Mama's Boy. I never viewed this as an insult. Should I have?

All I Need Is 1 Mic - Find your mic

How many people can say they truly enjoy their work? Are you one of them? I recently changed careers (once again). Fortunately for me, I was taught the value in enjoying what I do. The need to make money still exist, but the importance of feeling fulfilled is as important for me. I have been able to consistently work in areas that I chose. These jobs were chosen because at different times, my passion led me to different places. Having been raised by my mother (those of you who know her just laughed), I'm not shocked that I haven't foolishly feared changing careers. I say foolishly only because some fear is expected.

The new job requires me to do much more than I initially expected. The new job has already required me to work some weekends. The new job has consistently caused me to go to work early and stay late (often on the same day). I am currently doing so much more than I expected to do when I accepted the job. Guess what? I have enjoyed every moment spent working on the new job. I am not shocked. Not at all. That is who I am. If I didn't enjoy the new job, this posting would probably be about me leaving a job I expected to be great. In a short period of time (less than 3-months) the impact I've made is clear. This isn't my opinion. This is what people have shared with me. I get excited knowing that this is only the beginning. I have so much more to offer and learn as I better understand the job. I truly hope all of you can feel what I've been fortunate to have felt several times.

If you aren't doing something you love, be careful. It has been proven...we can't get time back. Avoid being in a position where you have to ask yourself why didn't I value me or my time enough?

Break The Cycle - R.I.P. M. J.

I understand that for some this is a touchy subject. However, I also understand that there is a valuable lesson to be learned from this story. All of you that are interested have already searched the Internet and watched at least one of the many televised specials searching for answers. This posting has very little to do with M.J.s impact in music throughout the past four decades or the opportunities his success has led to in the entertainment industry. It has nothing to do with the questionable health of the King of Pop. This has everything to do with the poor decision making by the most popular entertainer in history. Michael Jackson has sold approximately 750 million records worldwide. He has 13 Grammy Awards and 13 number one singles (only counting his solo career).

With all of the money earned over the historic career, how could Michael Jackson be in debt? Remarkably, the answer is simple. The King of Pop died in debt due to poor decision making. The reason for the poor decision making may never be known, but the fact remains the cause of the enormous debt is poor decision making. As I stated, there is a valuable lesson to be learned from this story. It isn't necessary that one be a millionaire to learn from this tragic story. The principles behind financial management are the same for one earning $40,000 or $4,000,000.

With frivolous (a.k.a. STUPID) spending being pushed primarily through the "new hip-hop" culture, should we expect more financially appalling stories? Why are so many people foolish enough to follow the blueprint for financial ruin? The formula is simple; if you earn $50 but spend $100 you will end up in debt. Are that many people incapable of living within their means? Is it because of societal pressures or personal ignorance? There are many lessons in this sad saga, among the most crucial is the often ignored obligation to becoming financially educated.

Tell Her Today

Well, she is a woman. She may not say it, but she loves to hear those words. It doesn't matter if you're her son or daughter. Your mother and mine love to hear "I Love You." For them, it serves as a thank you. Thank you for all of the sacrifices made. It may remind them that they're sacrifices were worth it all. Although Mother's Day has passed, there are still numerous reasons to show appreciation for all she has done.

So often life proves to be an interesting cycle. If you're lucky, life starts with many people expressing their love for you. As one gets older, the unfortunate reality is realized...many of us hear those three words less often. However, most would agree the one person who remains consistent is MOM. Big Bro. and Little Sis. still love you (probably as much) but for various inexplicable reasons they say it much less. Then we (generally speaking) have children and accept that it is all about them. They need to know that they are loved. They need to be told how special they are. They are arguably the reason we hear "I Love You" much less. Very few of us would choose feeding our ego over properly developing a child's self-esteem and self-worth. Throughout this process (only if you're lucky), MOM has never stopped telling you "I Love You." If you are really lucky, she even calls you that embarrassing alias before expressing her feelings of affection.

Now that you recognize how good those words help you feel...go ahead...call Mom.