Eastbound

So, We're going back east, again.

This time for Ge's dad's wedding. Ge's dad who I'll here fore refer to as Pater is marrying a wonderful gal. Beautiful, bright, successful. She is a definite match for him. I think she's perfect for him, I really do, AND I have a very high opinion of her. Ge's mom doesn't like her so much. Big brassy blond vs tiny swarthy brunette, hell I can relate.

I wonder if the bride (Who I'll call Bab's) has any idea of what she's getting into?

See, I'm already starting to get anxious about the whole thing.
I'm already practising linguistic shields, parrys and thrusts for having to deal with Ge's relations sharp tongued and dull witted comments.

I'm still licking my wounds from last Christmas. I'm so thankful we aren't able to spend THIS Christmas with them, even if it means forgoing Christmas with my own recently widowed mother.

I KNOW! It's that bad.

I remember that dinner. No one should experience a dinner like this. I was Phylis of Malcolm in the middle at Hal's family reunion.

We spent Christmas dinner with his family. A great big formal affair, with ties and gowns and make up and everything. Only no one thought of telling me it was a dress up affair.
Being unaware that Christmas dinner was so formal, I was under dressed and undistinguished.

There was a lot of talk that night about high class and low class. Ge's Mom (lets call her Ladonna, meaning the Lady) looked down at her fingernails a lot. I felt she exhibited the most class out of everyone in the room, and have found that to be the case generally whenever she is in the room. Any room.

I felt sick.

His sister, a real big mouth, bigger mouthed than me if you can believe it would stop breathing if I opened mine, and basically held it til I was done speaking at which time she would invariably exhale and say and so anyway... or Well then... or some other dismissive type of thing.

I wanted to punch her in the nose at least fifteen times. But instead took some time to spend with her kids. Later, as they were climbing all over me at Ladonna's get together, a guest mentioned how much the oldest one takes after me. I smiled, and felt Tiara's rage rise behind me. The little hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

Later Ladonna was extolling her daughters virtues. She said She must have got her strength from Ladonna, as her biological mother was a "milk toast". I disagree, Tiara's "Strength" is simple minded meanness. All her children exhibit this trait, and its from Pater they get it.

See what they don't know is, I know their secrets. I KNOW the fucking truth about their high class chi chi family. I've lived with their scapegoat for eleven years. I KNOW the number they did on him.

Class is providing for your children. Class, is making sure they are safe. Class is encouraging them and not tearing them down. Class is refraining from bloodying your childs rear end in anger. Class is keeping your commitments, class is ensuring your children are educated. Class is not stealing from your children, Class is not throwing teens into the street to beg for a living, Class is not checking out your son's wife's BOOTY!

I'm learning a thing or two about dysfunction.
My mother claims dysfunction isn't dysfunctional at all, but just a different kind of function.

See? Denial fuels dysfunction.

And Ge's family is swimming thick in it.

Get this okay, here is a perfect example.

Shortly before we got married he wanted to know how my family felt about me marrying a white guy.
Well my white mother was shocked for some strange reason she always expected me to end up with a black guy. I think that was a bit of projection on her part. And father's family is very proud of our mixed heritage, well mostly. I do have a great aunt who "passed" (as white) and in doing so had to disown her brown family. My Grandma once told me about bumping into her on a bus in Harlem, they were so happy to see each other, but when her white friends got on the bus, my aunt introduced my Grandma as her maid. Yup, her maid.

So I turned the question around to him, I wanted to know how he felt coming from an interracial couple?

He freaked. He really did. His mother is white.

PBahh hahahahah Right and I'm a monkeys uncle! Hahahahah

"No really she is white!"

"Wha?" "You serious?"

"Yeah."

"Ge, she and her family are Bahamian, with near Eastern roots."

"Yeah, but NO".

"Ge, what language did your mother teach you as a child."

"Wha? Uh, oh Lebanese."

"Exactly, your mother's family is Lebanese."

"Yeah, but she's white."

Oh my god.


Ge's mom's family is a near mirror image of my own which is; a mixture of European, African and Carib Indian. My ancestor Lord Jamaica (as he was called) owned a sugar plantation only as you can guess it was in Jamaica, so I know the score. From what Ladonna tells me, her family were wealthy landowners in the Bahama's. From photo's I can tell her parents are seriously near or middle eastern. In fact, Ladonna is even darker than I am.

So Recently, Ge and I revisited this conversation.
He is as deeply convinced his mother is caucasian. Its actually a little bit disturbing. When I brought up logic, geography, language and history to try and get him to see the chocolate, he countered with: "Well she used to be whiter."

PBahh hahahahah Wha? Oh, you're serious.

So, a few days after that he's talking to his mom all quiet and secret like on the phone.
A few days after that, we get a fat envelope in the mail, addressed to Ge, only. I've never seen Ladonna send something only to Ge before. He read the letter laughed a little, carefully folded it and put it away. He dared not look at me, and I dared not ask what it said.

He eventually passed me some photo's, a beautiful family picture of Christmas dinner, without me in it. And a whack of old photo's, black and white over exposed from the late sixties. Photo's in which his mother, actually does look "whiter".

I felt sick.