TRIBUTE

I have a friend that is from El Salvador.  I always smile when I think of her because she speaks with this lovely accent and I can’t help but to hear it when I think of her. 

One day, we were discussing the matter of culture and how different cultures are communicated.  This of course was a very interesting concept to me (the nerd in me).  We kicked it around for a few minutes until somehow the topic of my nieces and nephew living with me became the lens through which we kept considering the topic. 

She indicated that the children living with me (it’s not really me – it’s “us” but for the sake of this conversation – I will stick with me) is a choice.  I told her “absolutely not – no choice in the matter.”  She said, yes, you didn’t have to agree – and I explained to agree or disagree didn’t even bare weight – because they belong to us and we take care of ours.  What a strange idea to have choice in this type of matter. 

I further shared with her that I once had a job recruiting Black Adoptive Families for Black children.  I always found the cognitive dissonance interesting to maneuver through because older African-Americans just didn’t believe there were black children without family or community – that were in foster care. 

In fact, throughout our entire family (immediate and extended; Kansas, Colorado, Texas, Oklahoma to California) one way or another the children stay in the family.  They may not have been raised with the part of the tribe they were born into but they’re still in the tribe. 

To me, it isn’t a choice – it just is.  Anyway, did you ever meet my Grandmother?  No way could I ever not have offered help and face her again when it’s my time to move to Glory. 

I know a very exceptional woman.  I’m blessed to call her my Aunt.  She raised my cousins as if she birthed them and to this day they huddle at her side.  I’m always reminded of Proverbs 31:28a when I think of her; “Her children arise up, and call her blessed.” 

She and her siblings recently lost their Father.  I knew her Father.  He was one of my friends.  He always had a smile and some little joke for me. 

The biggest thing is I always felt like he was genuinely happy to see me.  My air seemed to get caught when I heard his health was not well and I felt, yet again, the world was less safe when I learned he’d moved to Glory. 

I was away and not able to be with the family.  But I had the opportunity to think about them.  And, I have to tell you the thing that I like about my Aunt and her siblings; they take care of their parents! 

I don’t know if they had some kind of calendar meeting or what but there was never any doubt about supporting their mother and father as their health has declined.  “Granny” is still living – doing well.  And, they move when she says move - smile.  (Granny is a wonderful woman and still very feisty!  I pity the fool that tries to tell her 90 something self what to do!) 

Now are you ready for this?  They did and do all of this with a grace and graciousness unlike any I’ve seen before.  They don’t whine or complain (unlike myself; I bet if you look up whining and crying they have my picture in the book; I’m so good at it.)

They respected their father’s life and important relationships – even in writing.  What a tribute!  I know they miss their Daddy.   

I’m thankful that my cousins have my Aunt for their mother and her family for extended family.  See how God works?  I get to be in the extended tribe as well because I’ve been exposed to these exceptional folk and the experience adds to my desire to be a better person.

My friend from El Salvador and I haven’t had the chance to revisit the topic of culture – but it helped me to verbalize the fact that although I didn’t “have a choice” (the alternatives weren’t options) I’m not a “victim or hostage.”  It’s with the Grace of God - a tribute to which I embrace this - my life.