Took the good !

Sooooo.... We're drivinng in the car from Church and from a lil' shopping when I roll down the windows reveling in the serene summer sun and such. In the back the Lil' ones are chomping hard upon some Tropical flavored chewing-gum. The car smells like a tropical forest until.....A car approaches and passes that reeks of gasoline. I hear some sniffing from the back seat, then almost urined upon myself while laughing. The Lil' Diva asks "What's that smell ?" Here Mother-Dearest replies "It's gas." Lil' Diva responds "That gas took the 'good' out of my 'gum !"

When I get married...

Lately the Lil' Diva has had to deal with a lot of loss. In July 2009 her beloved maternal grandmother became an ancestor. In September 2009 her beloved paternal grandfather became an ancestor and her paternal grandmother was placed into the intensive care unit almost becoming an ancestor. She, the Lil' Diva, dealt with celebrating both of their birthdays without them yet full of tears by our family. She smiled and laughed through a difficult Thanksgiving-Christmas-Kwanzaa-New Years Holy-day/holiday season hiding her loss with comedy and artistic engagement. Then in January I, her Dad was placed in the hospital for an emergency surgery on the same night that her paternal grandmother was placed into the hospital again. During all of this time she has become more apt to shed tears or crack a joke than previously. Yesterday while folding clothes she huffed up the stairs opened the door to my bedroom and stated to my wife and I "Men's underwear are gross ! When I get married my husband is going to have to do his own laundry !" Then she looked directly at me still recovering from my surgery and added "Unless he's sick of course." and semi-slammed the door as she returned to her unfortunate chore. Children say the darnedest things.

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."

Struggle, People, Hope

This has been a difficult year. I know I lost a significant amount of funds from my investments, I've struggled with my D.J. business and my Real Estate business, I've struggled with decisions regarding returning to College, I've struggled with fidelity (and have been victorious) as I've been presented with so many tempting opportunities, struggled with not wanting to go to Church on Sunday mornings, struggled to force myself to maintain a calendar, struggled with a year-end's loss of income as many of my dependable year-end D.J. clients have cancelled or have not had their events, struggled with maintaining a consistent work-out schedule as I'm struggling to get my sexy back, and most of all I've struggled with trying to rearrange my schedule to include more time with my family. "Where there is no struggle there is no progress." - Frederick Douglass

During our annual Umoja dinner celebrating the first night of Kwanzaa the family (Wifey & Kiddies) and I were enjoying a great meal prepared by the Wifey. Being lazy and knowing that I'd be involved in two public Kwanzaa celebrations that would require a lot of work and decided not to venture into the garage to search for the Kwanzaa Shrine. I began saying Habri-Gani and the Ninos both shouted out "Umoja !" It was on ! I then asked the kids the annual "What do you know about Kwanzaa?" and the son and daughter both shared much more that my Wife and I thought that they could remember. The son then described the process of the candle-lighting in the manner that I've taught them: Red candle, Green candle....(repeat).......ending with the Black candle. The daughter then stated "First the struggle (Red), then the hope (Green), for the people of God." The son quickly blurted "You know, people who struggle have to have hope." The wife and I stared at each other for about 10 seconds shaking our heads. The Lil' man did it again. Every once in a while he will naively say something so thought provoking and revealing that you would expect it to come from an elder. I then considered the struggles I've handled this year, and the struggles our country has handled this year. 2008 was a difficult year for the United States. One great thing about our country is our ability to struggle the struggle and to struggle to have hope for our people. I began smiling in wonderment until noticing that the children have been looking at me with that look as if they were saying "Dad.......Are you here ?" We finished our meal and held our Candle lighting ceremony without the candles doing it all in our heads. As I left the table I remained stuck on the words from my son. "People who struggle have to have hope." Feeling warm I realized that once again the Almighty has spoken to me through my children..........Parenthood is such a wonderful struggle.

Seko

Daddy doesn't take points.

The wifey' has developed a point system to address the sun-son's third grade transition. Whenever he makes a 'bad choice' he looses points. At the beginning of the week he begins with 100 points. I've smiled and been very supportive of the process and have reminded him to make sure his behavior doesn't result in a loss of points from his mother. I didn't realize that he had noticed that I hadn't used the point system in my guiding interactions with lil' man. He shared with my wifey "Daddy doesn't take points. Maybe you should teach him how..."

One morning I reminded him of his morning duties prior to taking my shower. As I finished getting dressed I checked-in on the lil' ones to ensure progress. I didn't hear the lil' ones upstairs so I traveled downstairs meeting my son at the bottom of the stairs with a surprised look on his face. "Did you clean your floor and make your bed son ?" He said "Uh....No Dad." I asked "Didn't I ask you to do your morning duties ?". He took one step up the stairs and turned around looking at me and returned "You really need to learn how to take away points Dad." I looked up responding "I don't take points, I give spankings."

He ran up the stairs, did his duties, did his sister's duties, and turned off the lights in my room.

Red, Black, Light, and White

This school year has entered a new dimension into the lives of a father................ Race.

Soulful of terms regarding Black complexion:

Light Skin/Red-bone: (Mariah Carey, Alicia Keys too Halle Berry)
Red/Caramel: (Halle Berry, Queen Latifah, too Oprah)
Black/Dark Skin: (Oprah too Wesley Snipes & beyond)

Today while eating lunch with my daughter she laughed with a peer sitting nearby saying She's red. She then looked at me and said "You and me are Red, Mommy is Black." I looked puzzled until a light-skinned boy who sat across from us said "I'm Red too !" The daughter looked at the peer smiling and said to me "Yep Daddy ! He's Red like Bebe (my light-skinned mother). My lil' mama is now race-conscious.

It's been interesting with lil' mama in public school as my son takes in everything but shares very little. Lil' man will tell you only the most interesting things that he experiences, while lil' mama' gives a full narrative. In example: The son: "Lunch was cool, I didn't get in trouble, I ate my veggies (Political talk: He ate a few of his veggies)." The daughter: "Ohh Daddy. We had hot-dogs, beans, and broccoli. I ate everything except for the fruit. I didn't have time to eat Daddy. So-and-so kept talking and our table moved from Green to Yellow. I told her to stop and she stuck her tongue out at me. I loved the hot dog. I added ketchup to it and ate it while the rest of the class was sitting down since I was at the front of the line".........and so on, and so on, and so on. So now the Wifey and I have a chance to really find out what's happening at their school.

Lil' man really didn't speak about racial differences when he was a first grade. Lil' mama, our current first grader, speaks about race in a very cavalier manner. This year's campaign of Senator Obama has made race a very interesting topic lately. Lil' man became intrigued with Obama towards the end of last year. "There has never been a Black President Dad?", "Why were people mean to Blacks and Dr. King Dad?", "If Barack has a White mother why does he look like he is Black ?" Now Lil' mama is asking about a lot of people. "What is she daddy ? Is he Chinese ? Are they Indian, do they live in Tee-Pees ?"

Lil' man is now noticing how many Soul-folk (people of color) are in a room as he enters the room. However, it's a little different than when I was younger. He thinks that it's cool to be Black "but it really doesn't matter Dad. Everyone is cool to me." I used to feel somewhat of an outsider as frequently I was raised in situations that were either primarily White frequently or primarily Black infrequently. I remember a friend named Brian who was a next-door neighbor cursing at me saying "It's all your fault Ni##er ! My family gotta' move all because you and the rest of your Coons moved in." I remember crying to a teacher who hugged all of the children in the class except me sobbing and saying "I feel all alone, I'm the only Christian in this Catholic school classroom." Without physically consoling me she said "Are you sure you are worried about that ?......We all love Jesus, and Jesus loves us all. Go back into the classroom and stop crying." I wasn't really worried about the Christian/Catholic thing. She knew it. I knew it. Kids wouldn't get near me saying that I had a special strain of cooties.....Ni##er Cooties. I then began a campaign to get my parents to remove me from the "costly" Catholic school to the "Free" public school so I could meet and matriculate with the Soulful neighbors who began to invade our Columbus Ohio neighborhood. I needed back-up. As a child I always looked for a Black looking face so I wouldn't feel alone, I felt the need for back-up. I was one of the only Black kids in the Columbus Boys Choir, I was the only Black kid in my mother's preferred church and was always in great demand for the Christmas play. They always held a special part in the play....... I was the Black King who visited the Christ-child. The year I tried out for the part of Joseph I caught peer-related hell. It's funny that I caught hell since the part of Mary that year (of one of the years I was the King) was played by a very light skinned girl who later became my best friend. [She now has changed her racial designation from African-American/Black to American Indian (with some African ancestry) and I believe that she has married a guy from Hawaii (He's lucky....Dawn is gorgeous, smart, and a very church-involved trust-worthy-faithful type of woman). Her father was known as one of the first Black Judges in Ohio and her mother has successfully sued that church for discrimination.] I was too dark to be Joseph, she was o.k. to be Mary as maybe no one would know the difference. I can't remove the fact that her mother was a very powerful member of that primarily-white congregation and I was a frequent visitor. She also earned the part as an active member of the youth group, and I may have been seen as a radical. I remember Dawn-Karima telling me in one of our conversations that people always expected me to join the Nation of Islam and how many people related me to Michael from Good Times who was the "radical" in the television show family. He thinks that counting the Soul-folk in a room is a novelty, I felt alone. Times have really changed for the better.

Raising children in today's America is different. I can't and won't give them my anger towards the racism I felt. I temper my statement that involve race to ensure that my scars are not passed on. I do imbue them with a love for their African, Indian, and European ancestry. I do imbue them with a love for African culture, an interest in the struggles and achievements of (so-called) Africans throughout the world, the historic accomplishments of (so-called) Indians and a love for the coolness of being Black. It's a little difficult when we discuss and watch movies such as Ruby Bridges, Dr. King videos, and when we recently saw The Express. Lil' mama has repeatedly asked "Why are they being so mean to them ?" while the Lil' man has heard me say my scripted statement "There was a time in America when unfair things happened to people of African ancestry. That time is over and ended a long time ago" so many times that he can almost say it with me.

This is a new America (USA). This is a new time. My children embrace the Red-Black-& Green as well as the Red-White-& Blue and don't see a problem. This is a good time.

Daddy Pride

Two years ago My Sun-son walked across that make-believe stage at his
Kindergarten graduation (from a religious school held in the sanctuary) as one of the highest scoring students in that class. He walked away from the event with a Bicycle as a present from the school. The Wifey is jumping up and down and screaming and all I could do was smile and bark (The Omega that I am) since I was holding the video camera. His test scores indicated that he was reading on a third grade level and mathing' on a second grade level.


This year (06/05/2008) the Lady-Girl graced the stage as the Valedictorian of her class. Her scores showed her reading on a 5th grade level and mathing' on "just under a" second grade level. She waltzed off the stage (make believe once again) with a bicycle and the entire crowd in hand. Her Mum is jumping, the family is jumping, and I keep yelling "That's Number Two !" Everyone on my row is looking at me and thinking "She's number one,
she had the highest scores) but I'm yelling "That's Number Two !" This was our second success story and second free bicycle ! God is good. Parenthood is good. I'm so proud.


I've counseled so many parents who have more to complain about than to be proud about. 14 years in the school system has filled me with so many kid-complaints. My kids have been a great buffer as I've really grown weary of the complaints. It's good to be proud.

The weird thing about this 'kid-pride' is the shared experience factor. I've done so many things incorrectly in my life, it's refreshing for me to see something go well. When my son-sun and lady girl walked the stage I walked with them. As I beam with pride watching their other accomplishments, I feel like I accomplished with them. When they struggle, I struggle. When they win, I win.

While en route to Disney Land a woman and her husband sat behind the family and I. After the plane landed the lady stopped the Wifey and I to share how impressed she was with our children. She noted how well behaved, smart, and articulate they were. She shared how she taught elementary school children for over 30 years and she recognized both bright students and good parents when she saw them. Initially I was a bit offended by her statements. She was an older Caucasian woman with a 'southern proper' personality, I initially thought she was surprised to see two Black (African-Indian descended) children behaving. It kinda' affected me the same way I've observed our White-American family marvel at the "articulate" speaking ability of Barrack Obama. "Why are you surprised people ?"......... As she detailed how she marvelled at the way my daughter read and the vocal inflections of our son I quickly dropped my defenses and began to listen to God speak through this messenger. When she was informed that the lil' girl just graduated from Kindergarten and the lil' man was just promoted to the third grade she was even more ecstatic. Her inviting smile warmed as she showered additional accolades upon "mis ninos" and then reminding me that the Wifey and I are great parents. As she continued to speak I thanked God, thanked Yeshua (Jesus), and thanked the ancestors for this moment. I then prayed quickly and in a non-obvious way that the remainder of my kids lives they will honor our Trinity and Ancestors in their walk-in-life. Jah-Bless !

Parenthood has been difficult. I've made countless mistakes.... The Wifey probably has a running list. However, it's been the best part of my life. When my boss stated "You are a failure.....You are a failure !" the thoughts of my kids' accomplishments kept me calm enough to brush my shoulders off.

A few days ago I was counseling a young man who felt the weight of the world on his shoulders as he and his girlfriend are expecting a child. As we talked and processed his problems I shared that over any personal achievement, the achievements of his children will give him the greatest pride. He wants to be the parent that his parents weren't. We discussed how difficult pregnancy is for women and for involved men. As he looked into my face with a sense of struggle I said "It's hard to be involved in a pregnancy. It's not for soft men. The woman will get on your nerves and wanting to truly leave the relationship is natural, but your strength is supernatural and you can overcome those short-lived feelings." He blew a breath of frustration as he shared how difficult dealing with his girlfriend has been and was glad to know that he wasn't a punk for having the feelings he was having. He did know that acting on those short-lived feelings would make him a punk. We then spoke more about parenting and the type of parent he planned to be. As he spoke I could only think of pride that I have with my kids. I'm so glad that I married and had children. Most of the women I dated prior to the Wifey were much older, already had teenagers or adult children, or didn't want children. I remember one woman telling me that our relationship needed to end because I will be a great father someday and she couldn't bear children. I hated her for her position then, I love her for her position now. Our break-up opened the way for me to find the best woman for me, and opened the way for a dude who didn't want children to become a proud father.

Blessings upon fathers.

"I'm bigger than that."

I had a dear friend ask me today how I was able to get past the "kid-resentment". I mentioned to him how at times I had problems with the time that my children take from me and the opportunities that having a family has prevented me from taking. He is a father as well, and is struggling with something that I heard other men speak of privately. I'm sure it sounds like a weakness of the spirit to speak of this in public, so I believe that many fathers keep this to ourselves. Actually, I've only heard a few mothers speak of the Kid-resentment factor.. I'm not sure what to make of that revelation.

My experience in Fatherhood has been based in marriage, in the creation of the foundation of a family. So in many ways this resentment is more of a difficulty of Family than it is with being a Father. When entering my marriage the idea that the two will share each others dreams seems all-inclusive. It's been my experience that our dreams are shared to an extent in the best of situations. For instance: I've always dreamed of living out of the country for a few years, my wife can't imagine being physically away from her family. My dream, her nightmare. There really is no way that the two dreams can be reconciled fully. In my decision to become one with my beloved I had to attempt to kill my dream. Simply visiting or traveling isn't my dream. Having a vacation home out of the country for a few months isn't my dream. The specifics of my particular dream will never come to fruition unless my Wife kills her dream of always being in close proximity with her family. A commitment to a relationship means the killing of some of one's dreams in some way. This situation causes some resentment. I'm sure this resentment is natural and healthy and expected and all that other BS......It's something I have to deal with. I see the commitment I have with my children as having a similar experience.

In becoming a Father I have to let go of some of my agenda-items. I have to make decisions to engage in activities that I'm not fully interested in, not really concerned with. Working for, and knowing that my movements are for the greater good, is not always going to make me feel good and in many instances don't match with my agenda. I can say that the joy and accomplishments I see in my children seem to quell the rise of resentment. The hugs and interest I receive from my kids often dispel the dream/freedom-loss that I experience. I told this friend to hug his kids more, enjoy their experiences, and to spend more time with them and his resentment will fade.

So then my friend wanted to know what he could do when the hugs, the interest, the pride, the love, the sharing, the accomplishments are not enough to wash away the resentment. I shared how I often tell myself "I'm bigger than that." seems to work for me. I use these few words as a mantra almost daily, not out of ritual, but out of necessity......

I've had to kill some of my dreams to be in a relationship. I've had to kill some of my dreams to be a father. Truthfully I have to keep killing these dreams as they seem to arise the next day, next week, next year. I found that these dreams are similar to a Phoenix, rising out of the ashes. It's similar to the "Christian" construct of dying to self daily to allow the Christ to live in you daily (I'm aware that historically the concept of dying to self daily to allow the creator to live more fully is older than my religion.....Back-up off of me you haters). I have to die to self daily to allow the Father and Husband in me live. Being myself and being a Father doesn't always jibe. Being a Father is a more developed position that being myself ever could be. Having a committed relationship is a far more advanced state of existence than simply 'being myself' could ever be. The truth is, being in a relationship makes one bigger.

I ended the conversation with my friend realizing that I really had nothing concrete to help him over the hump except for him to know that I was always here for him to speak too. Upon the close of our conversation I realized that having my friend to bounce ideas, concerns, and worries off of has indeed made me bigger. I just pray that he feels bigger from our call. Bless you my friend, let's grow together ! Daddies til' the day we die !

We are one....

Today we had a PJday. We remained in the home and the kids and the Wifey never left their pajamas. I left the home only to turn in some paperwork at one of my side hustles, and also to buy some food from Choice Pizza & Subs in Virginia Beach. We stayed in the whole day and played, watched t.v., ate together, and had family time. During dinner I turned off the television and picked up a newspaper article that asked the question "What do you know about Kwanzaa ?"

I've been celebrating Kwanzaa for over 30 years. While in Columbus, Ohio my pops/mum sponsored Dr. Karenga and his equally radical wife to stay with us as he did a three day cultural event for my pops' church Advent United Church of Christ. My Father (aided by my Mum) built this church from a few follks in my parent's living room. We had been celebrating our Kwanzaa for about seven years when Karenga came. He was a bit much for me then, as I really wanted just to fit in and Columbus Ohio in the 1980's was still a little scared of Kwanzaa. Each day during Kwanzaa in the 80's a group of Afrika-loving folk would gather together in homes, community centers, churches and in parks (t'was really cold in the parks) and revel in our ancestral love. (Circa 1977 - 1986) I loved these celebrations as people got together and pot-lucked, listened to story tellers, danced to African Drums from Tony West and The Imani Dancers, partied with a D.J. who threw-down, and the ladies were so hot !

Today will be my children's 7th and 6th Kwanzaa respectively. Kwanzaa is just something our family does, my parents have a well attended family Kwanzaa celebration every year and my daughter previously danced with a group (http://www.suwabiafricanballet.com/) named Suwabi Afrikan Ballet. I have also coordinated a long standing Kwanzaa celebration for the Imani Foundation (http://www.imanifoundation.com/) for about nine yars (tomorrow will be the 19th annual event for Imani Foundation which is 12 years old...we were members of Uhuruu African American Cultural for seven years and ran our program under that moniker). This year I declined to coordinate the event, and I will resign my position as the President of The Imani Foundation on 12/27/2008. Normally on 12/26 we are at somebodies public event. This year we stayed home, as Kwanzaa should stay at home, as it was intended. Karenga and the U.S. organization (Karenga did develop the celebration with other people) designed public Kwanzaa events as events to teach non-practitioners how to celebrate Kwanzaa.

At the close of tonight's dinner I asked my kids (to innitiate our Kwanzaa celebration) "What do you know about Kwanzaa ?" My daughter stated "The Red is for STRUGGLE, the Black is for PEOPLE, the Green is for HOPE." That's not completely the descriptions that the U.S. organization provided, yet that is what I have chosen to teach my kids. I didn't diverge from the truth, I removed some terms that may separate us from our peers. My wife greeted them with "Habri Gani" and my son said "Que Paso" (a loose translation into soulful-spanish). Then he and my daughter both said Umoja. Umoja being the principle of today prompted the question "What is Unity ?" My Son-sun answered that Unity is everything being stuck together and becoming like one. He then explained how the entire world is connected by touching. He said "The chair is touching the floor that's touching the wall that's touching the piano, that's touching the wall that's touching the painting. Everything in the world is touching something and we are all connected. As I searched for the exception to his rule I couldn't find one on a non-sub-atomic level. We are all touching each other in some way. We are all touched and effected by tragedies, and we are all touched by the breath of life. We are all touched by STRUGGLES. We are all touched by other PEOPLE. We are all touched by seeing others operate in HOPE. I don't celebrate Ramadan but I've been touched by the words and actions of the Honorable Minister Louis Farrakhan. I'm not Jewish, maybe I'm Hebrew (I'm sure some are not gonna' understand that), but I've been touched by my beloved friends of Temple Beth El who are Biblical Jews (Israelistes) as opposed to Rabbinical Jews. I'm constantly touched by Donnie D. who hosts "The Big Idea" on CNBC (One of my favorite shows and stations). As a child, every Chanaunach in New York (1968 - 1976) was spent with my parent's dear friends the Gluckmans (Rabbi Emeritus Donald N. Gluckman and family) who allowed me to get drunk on wine as a two year old at one of their celebrations when all the adults failed to notice that a little boy was drinking after everyone. I'm a Conscious-Christian and I've been touched by Christian people and groups who terrorized my family/ancestors with "Accept Christ or die" and the Trail of Tears, and the Klu Klux Klan (yes, they were a Christian group) as well as being loved, touched by, and prayed for by Christian absolute strangers who saw a frown on my face as I struggled with something in life.

I never could think of anything to debunk my son's theory. As I considered the origins of mankind I began singing a Frankie Beverly and Maze tune..... "We are one." My sons' simple observation was truly profound. We are one. May we remain one. May we exemplify oneness. One love yall'.