Nothing to Share, Nothing to Teach...

I Love You Guys.

I almost died recently. According to His will, I Am here now. By His spripes I Am healed.

I Love you guys.

I am walking a rough strech of road now and I Am Blessed to walk it with my Wife Carol.

I Am blessed to have the support of my family and dear friends.

Carol will leave with Zikora in two weeks because of her visa and will come back a month or so later. I will miss her. I miss her now just thinking about it. But she could use the break.

I have a brain tumor in the language processing part of my brain. I have a biopsy hole in my skull. I pass out, have bouts of lethargy, seizures, moments of confusion and i am in extreme pain all the time. I take meds for these things with varying success. (I do have have fewer siezures) The meds have side effects as well. Oh, I musn't forget the fractured shoulders. With all of this going on, I am weaker than I used to be.

I currently am not the bear-handed brick breaking, open-handed coconut cracking, 4-minute mile walking, mental giant of a man. I'm not supposed to be by myself, walk anywhere by myself, exert or stress myself. be around ye olde style TVs , My arms are in braces most of the time. I'm suppossed to be an invalid.

I am in constant pain and TVs and Computers do hurt me somehow, but I am actually afraid to live down to the standard I have been prescribed. I could only get worse living that way. So I walk a few miles a day.(slowly) I write when I can. I dont break bricks any more, but I can do a 15 minute mile.

My God is glorious! Jesus strengthens me and the Spirit carries me!

My health improves, but I havent started the treatments yet. The Radiation and the Chemo are said additional trails and trubulations on the way to recovery.

I pray and am thankful that the Spirit will conitue to carry me through this trial.

I may never regain my full strength, but that thought will not stop me from trying. I Will Be strong.

I love you guys and can use all the support you can spare.

Sean

My father is now my ancestor

Dr. Rev. Samuel Lee Varner: Sunrise 10/19/1937. Sunset 09/22/2009.

9.22.2009 I was awoken suddenly at 1:37 a.m. I couldn't determine what awoke me. I couldn't immediately return to sleep. 10 minutes or so later I was snoring. At 1:51 a.m. I'm awakened by a phone call. I hear my mother's muffled voice crying hysterically. My sister in-law then appears on the line saying "Seko, Papi's gone. He's gone."

I couldn't breathe......... "Are you saying that he's dead ? Is that what you're saying ?" hoping that Dad was moved to another room in the Rehab' Center. Life nudged me and I fought back throwing the telephone receiver at the mirror shocking my wife awake. "What, what is it Seko ?" I couldn't answer........Too busy screaming.......Too busy crying.....I wanted to break everything in sight. I ran out of the room yelling and grabbed a lamp on the way out hurling it towards the window. Rhonda's trying to calm me down while I run down the stairs and out of the house screaming. "Don't drive, don't get in the car" she begged as I ran down the streets of my neighborhood. I had to get somewhere where I couldn't break anything else. Finally I fell to my knees on a patch of grass near the main street. After a while I sobbingly returned to my house, dried my eyes, and gathered myself........ Until I looked into the worried face of my 7 year old daughter. The look on her face weakened me as I fell to the floor crying and trying to catch my breath. I couldn't look at my son, I didn't want to make eye contact with him as I couldn't be a strong supportive father at this moment in time. I hated that he saw me completely floored and unable to control myself. I tried to breathe to calm myself but I couldn't. I felt as if I lost the reason to breathe.

Eight hours ago I returned from an anniversary trip to New Orleans with my wife of twelve years. I planned to see Dad as soon as I returned, but became wrapped up in seeing a few counseling client's instead thinking that I'd be able to see Dad tomorrow. Tomorrow never came, tomorrow will never come. Enroute to the nursing home to hold the lifeless hand of my father I sent the text: "My father is now my ancestor."

When It Rains. . .

Samuel Lee Varner is now an ancestor.



He tried to teach me things and really wanted to see my marriage succeed. It was only very recently I was introduced to his wicked sense of humor, not to dissamilar from my own.

Ashe, Ashe, Ashe

As a Conscious-Christian I have taught my children to pray and worship our Savior. As an African I have taught my children to pour libation. We honor and worship The Almighty, we then honor and worship our Savior, we then give honor to our ancestors.

Pouring libation has become very real to mi ninos since their Grammy (Maternal Grandmother) died 15 days ago. This photo taken by my daughter on the day of the funeral is one of my favorite memories of the home going. My wifey is adorned in the pink on the left, a flower blooms in the middle, a family member (Dionne) stands on the right. As our family grieves a flower blooms. My mother-in-law is now ancestor. Ashee

My son has been very strong-seeming. As I traveled to the hospital minutes before Grammy walked into glory he was crying. When we arrived at the hospital to drop off the Wifey he held a stiff upper-lip wiping away his tears with a look of hope and faith on his face. Looking at him I kinda of felt sorry for myself. He seemed to have a faith that The Almighty would heal his Grammy. I had a faith that God's will would be done. I wished I had his faith at that moment, it seemed to be more optimistic. Watching my praying-serving-tithing-minister-devout Christian father struggle lately has left me truly questioning my faith in my faith. During the funeral my son cried watching his mother stomp and shout forcing her pain into praise. He was more worried about his mother than anything. The daughter-girl held onto her Grandfather's (Grammy's widowed husband) hands, fell asleep in his lap, and kept him comforted. My kids were caring for their adults.......... Ashe.
A week prior the Lil-Man cried out loud as the Wifey and I tearfully shared with our kids the news of their Grammy's passing. He cried out loud for 30 seconds then trained his watered eyes on his mother watching her every move as he sobbed softly. The Lil-mama howled-out her pain for five minutes shaking, rocking, and reeling. Five minutes later both wiped their tears and hugged their parents, held their parents, looked towards their parents. A week later my son shared with me as we entered the house from a trip the son shared "When I walked into Grammy house I started to say "Hey Gra....." then I realized that she wouldn't be there. I almost said her name Dad. I'm so used to calling her as I walk into her house." Then the Lil-man started talking about Naurato a cartoon action figure. He was beginning to allow himself to grieve. As I later shared the experience with the Wifey I noted "He needed to wait until you were better before he could allow himself to feel it. It's hard watching your mother feel pain." Tonight after being directed to go to bed 45 minutes earlier the Lil-Man walked down the stairs. Normally I'd reach for the belt, this time I looked in his lowered face and knew that I needed to be patient. Son-Sun walked over to his mother without saying a word and fell into her arms sobbing. Wifey encouraged him to cry and we all shared a wealth of tears. Fresh out of tears the Lil-Man walked away and back towards the stairwell.............. Grammy will be missed..........Ashe.

All photos courtesy of Lil-Mama on the day of Grammy's funeral rites.

Open Palms

Tonight the Wifey and I carried our Ninos into the house, both dead-weights lumped over in our arms oblivious to the struggles of their parents. Tonight was a struggle. Tomorrow was going to be a struggle.

Tonight I returned from work with the Sun-son who was too sick to go to summer camp. It was about 6:15 pm. He hung with me today and I completed reports and delivered paperwork and such. As I sat down to take a phone call he ran up to me stating "Mom needs you upstairs immediately. The struggle begins...

Around 7:30 p.m. I drove into a car wash to vacuum the truck when I received the call from the Wifey. I had dropped her off minutes ago at the hospital to check on her mother who had been rushed into the hospital. She was now calling me telling me I needed to return. I dropped off the kids with a friend and returned to the the hospital.

It's now 12:00 am the next day and I'm writing this entry. I'm nervous about the struggle. We must now share with our kids that their beloved Grammy is an ancestor.

I know that there is nothing that I can say that will wipe away their tears. Truthfully I do not know what to say. I do not know how to say it. As I held onto my mother-in-laws lifeless hands in the Emergency room I asked her to allow Christ to tell her what to tell me to say. I know that as an ancestor I'll be visited by her somehow. I pray that it comes before my kids awake.

Father's Day 2009

Knowing that I'd be out of town on Sunday the Wifey & Los Ninos got the jump pon' me. I was surprised this morning with Lil' Ones bearing gifts shouting Happy Father's Day ! To semi-quote Lil' Wayne...... "I'd say it was beautiful, but it was beyond that."

I've noticed so many interesting things surrounding fatherhood recently. I was recently in a drug store that had Father's day cards. One stated "To my Mother, who has been both a Mother and a Father to me." Three days before that Drug Store visit the minister at a church we visit regularly discussed Fatherhood and a time described in the Holy Bible as a time when Men would turn their hearts to their children. The focus on this message was "Facing a Fatherless Culture." During this sermon the minister asked if anyone had ever heard a Pastor preach on this text, I rose my hands remembering that I heard 'The Minister Farrakhan' provide a moving message using that same text. As I surfed the net the Monday following church I found and listedn to some of Honorable Minster Farrakhan's speeches on Imeem.com . Interestingly enough I found that same Farrakhan speech where the Minister taught on the time when Men would turn their hearts to their children. That night I edited 2-Pac's classic "Dear Mama" for an upcoming Mother-Son dance at a wedding that I'm D.J.ing. Editing most of the original song I noticed how the whole second verse of the song is basically a statement of the anger that he had for his father: "All along I was looking for a Father who was gone." rhymes 2-Pac in this classic. The first verse is primarily about his (2-Pacs) screw-ups as a person. Luckily the third verse a sweet tribute to motherhood that any person could relate to. On that Tuesday a real estate client noted how his teacher-friend informed him of a 13 year old student that had climbed under a desk at his school sobbing that he hadn't heard from his Father in months and his mother doesn't spend time with him either. This child was reportedly being raised by his aunt's friend and was deeply angry towards his parents, especially his Father who once had custody of him as his Mother has never been a fit parent. This child reportedly simply couldn't understand how a man who raised him for years is now absent without an obvious reason.

As this client and I continued our conversation I overheard a woman complain that Fathers are never involved in children's lives. My client overheard the same and said "You should speak up for us." (as he also is Father). He then asked how many of my male friends were Fathers. We both noted that a majority of our male friends are very involved Fathers. we both agreed that too many Women have made decisions that have led them into Motherhood with Men that they were sexually attracted too but truthfully didn't expect much from. We both agreed that our kids were important to our growth as Men. We also both agreed that there are some B*#@h-@$$ed men out there. I painfully admitted that I have some in my family, I have a relative who takes great care of the children he birthed in his marriage but is extremely negligent towards the children he had with other Women prior to meeting his wife. These other Baby Mamas have given him loads of trouble, I understand that, but as some point I think that you have to be a Father no matter how screwed up the mothers can be or have been. Most of my friends who are great Dads have faced the Baby-Mama-Drama and fought for their kids. Most of these great Dads have taken these Baby-Mamas to court to fight for their Fatherhood position. All of the Fathers that I know who have chosen not to make their Fatherhood position legal turn out to be un-involved Punk-@##ed Fathers.

I've learned to be a involved Father one simply can't let anyone, Mother's included, or anything prevent them from being the type of Father that the children will benefit from. The Men who make that commitment evident in their actions can truly enjoy Father's Day. I've enjoyed Father's Day now for almost 9 years. It's been a blessed struggle. May we enter the time when all Fathers can say the same with their hearts turned towards their children.

Happy Birthday GOD !

Kofi (Male child born on a Friday) Trooper VArner
06/09/2000
The day I became a father......


My sun-son walked into the room this morning at about 5:55 AM and said "Hey Dad, Happy Son-day !" The ritual began. Normally the ritual would entail me calling him "Kofi" all day long until 7:00 P.M. and then calling him his given name symbolizing the seven days he was known as Baby Varner or Trooper until receiving his name seven days after his birth(day). He bested me today ! He went further... " Dad.....You known how you say that today is a birthday shared by Mommy, you , and I ? Well, I think we should include Mama's parents and your parents cause, I mean because....without them there would be no you and mommy. Then you married mommy and had me !"
- Foils ! Bested again !
Then the lil' Diva-daughter pipes in from down the hall "Don't forget the great grandparents ! Without them there would be no grandparents, there would be no parents, and then I wouldn't have a Big Brother !" (Emphasis on the last part, I think she relished the thought.)
Here's the kicker....

After hearing his little sister chime in the new nine year old had to say something. So he says:
"Without God there would be no birthdays. God is everybody father. Happy birthday GOD, happy birthday Mommy. Happy Birthday Daddy. Happy birthday ME !" I think he left his sister out on purpose for a purpose.

There was nothing that she (the daughter-diva) could say. There was nothing that I could say. I placed my hand on top of the Son's head saying "You're right. Now go downstairs and let's have breakfast." As he left he took a part of me with him. My concerns. My fears. My insecurities. His statements took away from me the things that didn't need to be a part of my life. Last night I placed my hand upon my ailing father's head and did the 'Blessing of the Head ritual' ending with thinking "I hope I can be the blessing that you have been to me." Hearing my sun-son this morning, I think I'm Nine years in the right direction. Happy Birthday GOD ! Thank you GOD, Thank you Yeshua (Jesus), Thank you Ancestors. ......................Amen- Ashee

Seko

Daddying my daddy

Then (1972) Pops & I:

Circa 1987 I was in a college psychology class and our instructor self-nicknamed "Mr. R.E.O." (Read Early & Often to pass my class) was encouraging us to debate each other. As the discussion turned to 'fathers' a classmate stated with extreme anger that "Fathers ain't nothing. We don't need fathers. Ain't nobody's father ever done nothing for them." I shared how my pops had cooked most of my life and had been in our house everyday except when he took the family our of town. I ended by saying how I enjoyed my pops' food until the #@tch interrupted me yelling out "I'm glad you grew up in the Huckstable's Home but the rest of us had to live in reality. " As I sat there confused I slowly realized how blessed I had been, how much this #@tch was gonna' pay for embarrassing me, and how much justified anger she showed for her mother's bad decisions. As the entire class erupted in laughter I attempted to respond by saying "I'm sorry that you grew up in the ........" stuttering I realized that I couldn't come back on her and be right. I sucked up the embarrassment and kept it moving. I kinda' laughed to myself, she was fat, unattractive, a female, and angry. There was no way I was gonna' win this war with words. A few seconds later on a young lady stated something nice about her father and a few other students agreed. The fat, unattractive, female kinda put her head down on the desk and then I felt a bit sorry for her. I also noted that she had some sexy legs for a fat unattractive female and she stopped being unattractive......... I digress...........
Now (2009) Pops:
All my life my pops has fathered me. The last 8 months I've washed him, fed him, cleaned after him at times, and guided him with some financial decisions. He shared one day how he ended up having to care for his father, and now his first son was caring for him. My pops has become legally blind and is so sick sometimes that life surely feels like torture. I'm having problems sleeping and I'm over-eating and I realized the other night that I'm making myself sick.

What's wild is how my son and daughter know how to say the wrong thing at the right time and make everything alright. Just when I begin to beat myself up comparing my son-status to my brother's son-status (he'll probably always win the "Best Child Award" if there is such a thing) or I begin to think about my pops becoming an ancestor, one of my kids walks up and hands me a handmade card/picture/structure that they made for me effectively washing away the depression. I know that I'll have future fears, pains, tears, and worries about my father - yet It's rejoicing to know that my kids will have a 'creation' up their sleeves to Daddy their Daddy. Thanks be to Father Almighty, thanks be to the Son of Father Almighty, thanks to the ancestors. I love you Pops. I love you Moms, I love ya' kids.

Not a big fan.

Friday nite':

The wife n' kids are in the truck. "Where are we going ?" asked the Lil' girl.

The wife replied "You two are going to your grandparents, Daddy's taking me out on a date !"

Scruncing up her face the Lil' girl screams in a long drawn out manner "Ill........Nasty !"

I stated "That's what husbands and wifes do."

The Lil' girl retorts "I know, I'm just not a big fan of that right now."

Looking all cute

I know I don't post here often. I've had soo much on my plate. Severe medical issues. Got fired. Looking to finally move over to Alternative Therapy as my main means of sustenance. I'm changing my 9-5 to somthing simple and stress free. So I'm applying for jobs that I've frowned upon in the past, but positions with benefits. This in efforts to avoid the palaver that happened at my last job.

All that being said. This is my lovely Wife Carol. Looking all cute. She's wearing a skirt that I made.:-)

Warrior Women

I really enjoy comic books and comic book inspired movies. I especially enjoy getting a particular author's answer to the "What If?" question, i.e. "What if you could fly?" or "What if you could stick to walls like a spider?", etc.

My daughter has said that there are no women superheros, so I've made it a point to try to introduce her to Storm and other Black women superheros. Its been pretty tough finding them, especially finding women that have starred in solo books. Captain Marvel & Storm are pretty much it for major publishers. Milestone Media has a bunch of good ones - none of them starring in solo books, but cuz they actually look like my daughter they'll do - but until I get copies I'm not about to hand my bagged and boxed runs over to my 5-year old!).

BTAIM, I recently stumbled across Dr. Germon "Askari" Miller. She was a victim of domestic violence in her early 20s, dragged herself several blocks to the emergency room, with broken bones and other busted body parts and was mostly homeless for two years while ducking her abuser. To defend herself, she began training in African Martial Art styles, becoming so good that she was recognized as a Grandmaster back in 2006.

I really wish I had encountered her back in 2000 when I was looking for an Afro-Centric art style and a connection to my roots. I stumbled across, and became a disciple of, Capoeira back in 2000 not knowing anything about N'golo, the Congolese/Angolan martial art it is based on. Turns out, there are still practioners out there of traditional African martial art styles (and some not so traditional - 52 Blocks, Shackled Hands, etc.) - I just didn't know how to find them in the dark ages before Google and Youtube.

Dr. Miller is organizing an *all-Female* Martial Arts tournament - April 25 @Riverdale Baptist School in the Fieldhouse - 1133 Largo Road - Upper Marlboro MD 20774. For info call 301-233-6659 or 202-550-1146 or email allfemaletournament@yahoo.com.

I can't wait to bring Eva and let her see real life superheros. Axé!

He's a greedy monster

"You know you're out of shape when your daughter who watches those The Biggest Loser shows with her mother starts creating songs to share with you how much she cares about your health"

My seven year old Lil' Mama:

"Here comes the Daddy,
he's a greedy monster.

Beware of his stomach,

it will push you

back-back-back-back-back-back.

It will push you back.

(repeat)

Seko

Is Our Children Learning?

I realized today that Eva has outgrown her current day care. She's in a Montessori school that is a half-day program. Today she helped bake bread and also ice-skated on grass (we just had snow and ice and there's still a layer of ice on the ground in many places). Since its a half-day program, she goes to a day care center in the afternoons and the woman that runs the center there lets the kids watch TV.

On our car trip home from the babysitters, Eva regaled me with a tale of how Clorox, Lysol and Dreamworks all were fighting to see who was the best. Apparently Lysol won because it got all the votes and then they all ate yellow flower petals.

The Sunshine of My Life

The other day my daughter Eva and I were walking out of her gymnastics class and we noticed some large christmas ornaments on a tree in front of a large house. The ornaments were easily the size of Eva's head.

"Look at those ornaments," I said, incredulusly. "They're HUGE! I wonder where you can get ornaments like that from"

"Maybe they come from Giant" she said with a grin.

Father Father

Hip-Hop artist NYOIL (formerly Kool Kim of the UMCs) has produced a video called Father Father about the men out there who deserve not only the big piece of chicken, but recognition for doing what they are supposed to do and doing it well.

http://www.nyoil.com/