When Kozo asked us to take a great leap for Bloggers4Peace and open our arms to the enemy, my mind snapped to the only person I would define by that term. This has been hard for me to write. This whole issue fires in me the anger I worked so hard to overcome and character traits that I don’t particularly love. I’ve had my share of life mishaps and trials, but though it all, I’ve been able to find peace with those who have played a part in my suffering– but I am still working through this one.
Usually I write these types of situations from the vantage of hindsight, once I’ve wrapped myself in a blanket of calm– but knee-deep in this now, I cried. It’s very stream of conscious, so I’m asking you to read with a gentle mind.
I know, to many, this whole thing is a gross over reaction to what is ultimately none of my business anymore– and that almost made me not post it– but I started my blog as a place to keepsake important reminders for myself. Right now, where I am today, this is the most important reminder in my life.
Tomorrow, I will love this woman. But not today.
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Let me start here.
I can’t think of anyone in this world who I dislike more than you.
When I become angry, I become very, very angry. It takes a lot to get me to that point, but I’m quite sensitive to issues regarding my brothers. You see, I’m the middle of six kids, and we stick together.
My little brother is like my own. His first steps were into my arms. His name is one I picked. My name was amongst his first words.
He is my brother. He is my confidante. He is my son. He is the kindest, most genuine person I’ve ever had the good grace to meet.
And you put your hands on him. You shook him.
You hurt him. You hit him. You beat him.
Angry doesn’t even begin to cover the full extent of hatred I felt for you when I heard the actions you took that day, and the reason why.
You hurt him because he wants you to be his mother-in-law.
No.
Because he wants to be a son to you.
I know that sounds like a semantics argument, but it isn’t one. He wants to dedicate his life to your happiness, as he does for everyone in his family. He thinks you are worth joining our ranks. He loves your daughter.
I want you to think about the fact that if situations had been reversed, and my father shook your daughter– he’d be in jail right now. And rightly so. People who take out the darkness and violence in their hearts on innocents deserve to be locked away forever and ever.
But you’re a woman.
A tiny woman.
And somehow that makes it alright to the world.
Let me tell you– it doesn’t make it alright to me. It doesn’t make it remotely okay, in any way.
When my baby brother was in kindergarten, I threatened to break the fingers off of a kid who bit him if he ever so much as thought about it again. It wasn’t a senseless threat. I was in a fury, and this was years before I learned to manage my anger. The kid was smart to take me seriously because 9-year-old-me would have surely tried her hardest.
29-year-old me doesn’t feel too managed right now.
29-year-old me barely remembers any method of anger management because not only did you try to hurt my brother physically– you wounded him emotionally.
Because of the color of his skin.
Because of the religions of his family members.
Because of his name.
Because he dared tell you that Gumbi and Gandhi were different people.
It’s racism. It’s bigotry. It’s stupidity. And you shot those things at my brother and broke his heart.
And now for the understatement of my life:
I hate that.
You should be in jail. You should have a restraining order against you. You should be suffering, because you made a good man suffer.
You should be in pain.
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Except.
My brother would hate it if you suffered more. He loves your daughter, and you made your daughter, so he loves you.
To him, it really is that simple.
He’s a genius, you know– and I’ve always counted myself lucky to be amongst those who could partake of his judgment.
One time, he stayed up for days to make 1000 paper cranes to ask a girl to a dance. She said no. I was annoyed on his behalf, but he said he didn’t consider it a wasted moment. He said she deserved to know she was lovely, and she deserved the right to decide who she dated and who she didn’t– and that he was honored to be any part of the life of such a strong woman.
Another time, a woman on a cellphone totaled his car and he barely walked out alive. He didn’t want to press charges. He just wanted to call everyone he knew and apologize for ever talking on his cellphone and driving at the same time. He said that he could hardly be angry at someone for doing something he’s done before. He said anger would be a waste of time and energy– but he could apologize for the risks he took with the lives of others, and do better for the world.
He’s the smartest man I know and the kindest. He’s my role model, and he wants me to forgive you.
He wants me to go to his wedding. He wants you to be there. He wants us to sit together, like family, and hug– or, at the very least, shake hands.
You don’t know this right now, because it’s months away– but you’ll be there.
You’ll be there because I won’t let you break his heart again, even if that means handcuffing you to my arm and dragging you all the way there.
You’ll be there because I’ve never seen anyone– no matter how cold-hearted, lonely-hearted, or dark-hearted– survive my brother’s love without it eventually seeping in. It needles you, and then absorbs– and the next thing you know, you’re whistling show tunes and taking pictures of flowers that look like they’re smiling.
To know my brother is to know someone who has never intentionally hurt anyone in his whole life. Do you know how incredibly rare that is in a full-grown man? Or anyone?
Your daughter is lucky. She is loved and– no matter how their relationship unfolds– she will be loved for the rest of her life. She’s marrying into a family of people who far extends our bloodline. She’s marrying into a community comprised of people my brother has saved– and it is a fierce, vivid, ever-growing village.
I’m struggling right now because I am still angry. At you, yes, but also at myself– because I wasn’t there for him. At you, yes, but also at the world– for telling my brother that he had no recourse but to take your abuse. At you, yes, but also at him– for not just giving up on people who are not worth saving. At you, yes, but also your daughter– for not volunteering to bite your fingers off.
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Except.
My brother is a genius. He’s my guru and I’m his big sister. He looked at me, with his frightfully focused brown eyes, and asked me to love you as much as I love him.
That’s a lot of love.
That’s a “no matter what” level of love.
And because I’ve never yet disappointed those eyes, and because I never want to, I will love you. I’ll love you with the type of love he defined for me. It’ll needle in, and absorb, and one day– I’ll send you flowers on your birthday and never remember this moment at all.
He says that everyone is worth saving. He says that he sees the goodness in you. He says you’re suffering because your dreams have been dented, because you see the glory of your daughter and you wanted her to have something as glorious.
I question this. Did you want someone better for your daughter? Or someone whiter?
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He says there is no greater purpose than to connect with other people, in a meaningful way. It is why we do everything we do. It is why we do everything we do with love.
He’s usually right, and I love him. In fact, just to prove his point– loving my brother has been a huge part of the purpose in my life.
I plan to trust in him. I plan to trust in love.
I’m going to do everything I can do to release my anger, even if it means hours of meditation a day and acknowledging that you may never change your mind. Even if it means knowing that you’ll continue to shoot arrows of negativity through his life.
Because as my brother– the wise, gentle man your daughter is lucky enough to marry– so often says, “You don’t change people to love them. You don’t change yourself to love them. You open your boundaries, and add to the ways you can love.”
Love doesn’t have to mean agreeing. Love doesn’t have to mean understanding. Love doesn’t have to mean anything it doesn’t want to mean.
So I will find love for you and pray my heathen prayers that this welcome from my family will seep into you and change the poisons that are eating the joy from your life.
And on the day we legally become family, I will hug you and smile.
You’ll feel my love in that hug — fueled by the power of a thousand suns. You’ll see the knowledge in my smile–that we’ve been family since the first time my brother heard your daughter’s beautiful wild laughter, and there was nothing either of us could do about it.
You will be loved, fully and completely, for who you are and who you can be– and hopefully that will give you a glimpse of the sort of happiness your daughter will see every minute of every day for the rest of her life.
Yes, tomorrow, in honor of the ones who have filled my life with joy, I will love you.
But not today.
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You can check out all the other B4Peace entries here: http://everydaygurus.com/2013/10/31/monthly-peace-challenge-love-thy-enemy/ They’re pretty awesome!
So is anything in the world more stressful than a wedding?
