Looks like your gonna be a red head
Everyday a new you emerging
Slowly so that we don’t notice so much
but we notice in retrospect
For instance
A one piece that used to be baggy
Is suddenly too small
The red haired blue eyed cluster feeding expansion machine
You are.
We have red hair in both our family lines
Your mama and me
On my dads side there’s both Scottish and Irish (I think. Maybe the Irish is on my moms side. When you have mutt genetics it gets confusing)
On my moms side I believe her grandma was a red head
My dads eyes are green
And there’s blue eyes on your mama’s side
And so it’s looking like your eyes will stay
Ocean prism blue
Like riding waves when you open them
Giant seas of wonder you bring in the room
Whenever you stare wildly at life
Without expectations or choice
Just authentically being in the moment
Shifting emotions and movements
After all everyday is it’s own invention.
You come from a long line of warriors
Shame that you won’t meet some of them except through reflections of them still living in me and your mama
West Virginia is a part of who you are
The mountains and hills and high ways
Your great grandfather Joe Leon
Was a Spanish immigrant who moved to America
When he was ten and worked his whole life in a factory
Loved watching Larry King
And football (especially football. The Steelers)
And squirrels on the porch
Had hunting dogs in cages behind the stand alone garage (always an immaculate truck inside and station wagon. Perfect. Like pit of a movie)
The highway, factory and firehouse
All within eye shot of their tiny house.
Which smelled of pollution from the factory close by
But a smell I always loved as a child
Smelled like love to me
I loved spending time in West Virginia
And that side of the family
I had cousins there my age and we would play football all day in Clarksburg
Or ride bikes or whatever
It was an alternate universe of friends from a different world
Like a bonus world but more magical for its rarity.
We spent Christmas there every year
My sister and I would share a room at Joe and Enid’s
Right next to our parents room separated only by a plastic sliding thing that doubled as a door
Everyone’s room was right on top of each other
It was a tiny house in Anmoore West Virginia but it felt like a palace to me
The fire station across the street would randomly sound it’s alarm
As we stared at the ceiling in anticipation for Santa clause with what looked like shadows of sleigh tracks flying across the ceiling
I could never sleep Christmas Eve
As Christmas was always an explosion of excitement and wonder
The tree stuffed under with presents
And stockings over flowing
A table full of peanut butter and chocolate fudge
And bowls of nuts
Pancakes for breakfast
Playing board games on the breakfast table straight after
Which was a bar style nook and attached to the kitchen
Wah hoo mostly
An Indian themed game with marbles and dice
The tv on
They had cable so I would watch MTV when I got a little older
Run DMC Christmas in Hollis
And David Bowie and Ben Crosby singing little drummer boy.
Christmas Lights all over the place and candles.
A giant furnace in the middle of the floor
You’d have to walk around it or jump over the grill when it was raging or you might burn your feet
Your great grandma Enid was feisty and fun
Her personality lit up the room more than the lights
And most of all you could tell how much she loved us all
It truly was a celebration
She would play with us
Tickle us and pinch our cheeks
Make fun of us
And look at us knowingly when telling jokes.
She was comedian locked in domestic union in the hills of West Virginia
Giants spirits often fill tiny homes. Never forget that.
Spray us with the hose outside as we ran around their yard in the summer laughing
Covered in hay from playing with the dogs behind the garage
When youre a child you don’t think about status or material possessions
Everything is framed by the reality of love
And a warmth that cannot be faked
They were loaded with that warmth
And so externally they might have been somewhat poor
But in my view they were very rich indeed
Your great grandfather Joe
Would March me up the hills out back
In my bare feet and call me a green beret
He was stoic and had something of an unspoken and quiet spirituality which exuded off of him
Or was easy to project onto him
(Maybe they’re the same thing)
I think they were believers of Christ
And maybe we went to church once or twice
As they all went sometimes Christmas Eve
My cousins and my Aunt Karen and Uncle Jerry.
But it was hit or miss
Our family never really went to church so that part of it wasn’t massively shoved down anyone’s throats
It was all just ok and accepted whatever your beliefs
It was about families coming together and love more than anything else.
Joe Leon one time shot one of those hunting dogs
Because he messed up a hunt (the story goes)
The dog ran away
And found his way back to Joe and Enid’s place months later missing an eye
Joe just put him back in a cage out back as if none of it ever happened
And kept that dog til it died of natural causes
I know that sounds like an awful story
And I guess it is
But it’s also amazing and unfortunately for Papa Joe
To good a story to just leave on the side of the road
(That story keeps showing up months after being shot as well. That’s karma for you)
Some stories are like one eyed dogs that always find their way home I guess.
Joe really was a gentle spirit though
And a beautiful man
They just did things differently
He came from a harder world
Things that would be labeled abusive now
We’re just normal back then
Humanity evolves
Sometimes for the better
Sometimes for the worse
But you come from a long line of bad ass people
Your great grandfather on your mama’s side
Was a great believer in Christ
So much so that he chose to spend ten years in prison rather than denounce him
As the communists in the Ukraine demanded he did
Both him and your great grandmother raised your mother
And told her from the time she was small that there would be a shot that the government will try and make you take when you get older
And whatever you do don’t take it.
I kid you not kid. She’s been warned of all this from the time she was a little girl.
Your great grandfather would also fast every year for forty days
Now that’s discipline. And a discipline that led to great insight. To this day we listen to your great grandmother regarding a lot. They seem to know things. Like they have a direct line to the almighty.
Your great grandma on your mama’s side has made you your best outfits by hand
And is in love with you from the other-side of the country
Me and her have a connection
Your mama translating Russian as we hit off our unlikely friendship from across time and miles
These are all tough people
All salt of the earth
A lineage of warriors
Which explains the ferocious vibration coming off of you
Lovingly ferocious I mean
Not ferocious in a bad way
Probably not even the right word
A seed of a tiny bad ass
But also a love muffin 🙂
They called your great grandfather Bill
Lightning
From my dad’s side
A Scotsman from Glasgow
I believe he flew a fighter plane in World War Two
Met Ethel in NYC
And had four kids?
Jane
Frank
Jimmy
Anne
I grew up just down the street from them in Ohio
Bill passed when I was ten and I cried and ran up in my bedroom becoming acquainted with the concept of death
I don’t remember too much about him
Just that he talked funny as he never fully lost his Scottish accent
And he made the best toast on earth
Something about the way he laid the butter on thick
And melted it in the toaster oven
I remember him and me in the kitchen there one time
Having toast
Somehow we were alone there in this memory
Strange the things you remember
Shades of your life like shadows from the past shouting at your present
From the cosmic playground of what was
Alcohol was a part of that world
Your great grandmother Ethel smoked Marlboro lights and liked martinis
It’s not liked they lived in a mansion but they were more well off and had that air about them
But they also had a room for music
An old piano Ethel could play
And often to our amazement when we were young. She was the musical one.
And we would go in there and dance around our lack of understanding
The coats from the company piled up on the ottoman chair in the music room
Sometimes boldly Sitting on the piano bench ourselves
And playing the piano as chaos emanated from its hammers and strings
Violins sitting on top of it all as well
Probably vibrating from the resonance of the piano.
Little did I know how music would dominate my life later on
Then it was a just a mysterious thing that lived in a little room at grandmas house.
These people had love too but there was also something unresolved I could feel in the air but couldn’t understand as a child
Anyway all these memories came from the fact that it seems like you might have red hair
I don’t want you to miss out on the wonders of your history
And those times when people really could pursue this dream of freedom
In an America where everything was possible
Ps. I read this to your mama
As I do all my blog posts/letters to you
She always gives me encouragement and support. Always so nice about em. Very lucky indeed. I am.
But this one led to her asking me
Did you believe in Santa Claus?
Yeah I said
She laughed and said really?! Til when
Til I was ten
She laughed
How did you find out he wasn’t real?
I asked my dad and he just told me
He said you really wanna know?
I said I did
And he told me
And I ran up into my room crying and crying
Your mama laughed as
You were feeding at nine this morning
Attached to her as per usual. Leading into a discussion about what your relationship with Santa will become
Your blue eyes shifting this way and that
Unlatching into a smile and some kind of adorable sound
How about you I asked
No I never believed in Santa Claus she answered
And we never got presents
My grand parents told me it was about Christ
And not about Santa Claus at all
They said that he doesn’t exist and it’s something that’s in the world
(Man you come from a hard line)
It’s a greh (Russian for sin) or rooted in sin she said
They are devout and weren’t messing around with the birth of Christ or making it about anything but that
Do you feel like you missed out I asked
No she said
I just never believed it
I wonder why they set kids up to believe in something only to tell them later it’s not real
I feel like maybe it’s an attack on faith like
Setting you up to whatever you magically believe you later find out is a lie.
Dismantling perhaps people’s belief in God
Hmmm I said
I’m not sure. You’re probably right though
So what are we gonna do with her
I asked (pointing to you)
Looking at you still feeding
Are we gonna tell her the truth or make her believe in Santa or take a page from your grandparents?
Your mama said
You can tell her anything you want. I’m gonna tell her the truth.
That made me laugh
Well we still have time to decide
You want eggs I asked?
Yeah she said smiling
It’s time to break the fast.