I was walking around my apartment complex last night when I saw a couple, with their toddler, having a picnic out on the lawn area. Seeing this family interact with each other instantly made me think of a line from rapper J. Cole’s song, Love Yourz.
“Always gon’ to be a bigger house somewhere, but n*gga feel me. Long as the people in that mothaf*cka love you dearly.”
Once I got back inside my apartment, I thought about my parents, their union, and the foundation that they set for my brother and me.
(By the way, that’s them in the feature image of this post—looking like an episode of Good Times)
There’s been a concerted effort, particularly by western media, to downplay the importance of a nuclear family. Healthy relationships between men, women, and their children seems like a pastime in today’s society. However, I was one of the fortunate ones to be anchored in said relationship. And the stability that I have now as an adult is due to the love and respect permeating throughout my home growing up.
My parents trained my brother and me on a myriad of things, but one, in particular, is to take accountability for everything that we do, good or bad. And it’s annoying to this day because I can still hear their voices whenever I plan on doing or not doing something. If I plan on spending money going out to eat, I can hear my mom telling me about my savings; if I plan on being lazy on the day that I set to clean up, I can hear my dad saying “get up, boy.”
I can’t escape these people…and I don’t want to.
My folks are my relationship, adulthood, and all around life goals. Not only am I proud of their individual accomplishments made in the midst of adversity, but I’m thankful to have two God-fearing soldiers in my life to lay down the blueprint on what I need to do going forward; especially when it comes to setting the standard for myself and my future family.
June 2, 2017, marked 33 years of marriage for my mom and dad, but they’ve actually been together since high school. And if you’ve been following my blog, you should know that I have no problem going back in time. So let’s have at it, in honor of Broderick and Nezzie.
Until Next Time…