I come from a family of strong characters. My dad is a quiet, strong-willed and talented man, my mother is more outspoken and stubborn, my sisters get it from her and my brother, I’m not sure what he got or where he sourced it.
Now I know this really should have nothing to do with me, but I imagined that after my brother lost who I still believe was the perfect girl for him, he would move on and eventually start his life with a woman of my choosing.
Yup I wanted to pimp my brother out to a nice, wealthy/financially stable, educated, good looking, well mannered, spiritual and all the other stuff that make a woman wife material; yellow boned or Caucasian woman.
This woman would be taught by my family how to love a Marshall man. Unfortunately, people think I’m not supposed to have a say in his love life and that my standards and thoughts for him are just wrong. Oh well I’m sticking to it.
My character is passionate, stubborn and creative and I’m only being modest.
When my sisters left my parents house to purpose to higher education, I was left at home with my adult brother, who before he had this stable job which has been quite sometime now, would take me to school, maybe pick me up, make dinner for the whole family along with other good stuff.
Now picture it, Jamaica 2010, yup 2010, a big brother wakes up his adorable baby sister from her well deserved beauty sleep at 6 a.m on a Saturday morning, after she spent an entire week being difficult and retrogressive, to accompany him from their home to the main road so that he can take public transportation to wherever he was going because right now I don’t want to be that specific…moving on.
Being the loving and selfless baby sister she is/was, she alights from her comfortable bed, pulls on warm clothes, wakes up and walks her big 250lb 5 feet 11 inches, brother out to take a taxi. For quite a while this becomes a Saturday morning ritual and even Sunday afternoons she would walk him out. She even walked him out when he was going to work during the week.
This ritual made her very protective of her brother because she had to walk him pass some really annoying mongrels who tried to attack her brother from time to time. He’s had some traumatic experiences with dogs that mentally scarred him.
This time became a time of bonding between them. She would wake up before him to ensure that he woke up on time, but most times made him late because they would watch cartoons together while he tried to get dressed.
The brother bought a car some time after and his adorable and protective baby sister became redundant.
That big brother was my big brother and that adorable baby sister is me.
My brother’s purchase of that car was not the only thing that came between us. He found himself “love”. He replaced her. I mean me.
Of course I know I could never do for my brother what other women do but that hasn’t made me any less angry. I realize I might be angry with the wrong person…his “love”, but I prefer to be angry with someone I don’t know and would like to keep it that way than be angry with my brother. After all, he’s the only one I have left.
That’s another story.
Our bond was replaced and I didn’t even get a warning, it was like the worst breakup you could ever imagine. One Saturday afternoon, while slaving away at chores that were supposed to be shared and completed between myself and him, he showed up in a friend’s car, walks around to the other side of the car, takes out a handbag and then helps an awkward body out of the car. And I’m not saying awkward because I don’t care for her but because she exited the car in an awkward way I won’t try to describe.
He comes into the house I’m still cleaning, all by myself and introduces her to mother, while completely ignoring me even though he knows I’m there. I became Cinderella.
I felt like I was only good enough to protect him from dogs and clean the house with but in my industrious state, I was not worthy of an introduction. Right then and there the verdict came in…I don’t like her!
Shut up! Of course she knew I was there, they all did! They saw me! But I didn’t count.
I can hold a grudge for long, and I’ve had this one for over three years. I don’t acknowledge her presence, I really could care less. She’s of course done things and said things to make matters worse…like the time I tried to make peace with her and told her if she hurt my brother I would personally come after her and she told my mother I threatened her. Like who does that? That wasn’t a threat! If I should threaten a person I would tell them to be careful because I never deal with people personally…
I was just being my adorable and protective baby sister self.
My brother is a good guy and of course he deserves the best…and I wish them well but now he knows a part of why I don’t take to her.
In my family, you have to be strong. Especially women! My sisters, cousins and I have great examples of strong women. My mother who has served the education system for over 40 years, raised three girls and a boy on a meager income and still never turned away people who came knocking at her door asking her to help because they knew she would; my mother put herself through college while her children were in school and now has a degree in Guidance Counselling . She has helped and continues to help so many.
My Aunt who is described as A MASTER TEACHER, who to this day greatly molds the minds and lives entrusted in her care, has a masters in education and is currently ensuring that all her children, just the two she gave birth to, acquire tertiary educations and aim for even greater than she does. She’s also been married for quite some time, is under 5 5″. She is a strong, determined and charismatic character.
We have an Aunt who has survived the failure of a vital organ, though she has to be treated everyday, she has lived longer than I’m sure she even imagined. She is a great cook and is sweet and full of vibes. Her life reminds me that as strong as I think I am, there is One greater than we can imagine. Who determines how we live and how we die; He’s given her to us for a while longer and this time we aren’t taking her for granted.
All my aunties are strong women; women who keep their families together, their men can’t live without them…literally and they are examples for their children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews, strangers and friends.
Walker/Marshall/Henry/Davis/Dunn/Sinclair(I can’t remember them all right now) epitomize Proverbs 18:22 “He who finds a wife finds a good thing, and obtaineth favour from The Lord…” We are royalties and the males born of our clan are expected to find wives, and not just women.
I only want what’s best for my big brother…and I’m highly opinionated. Maybe I’m wrong about a lot things like how I treat her. But I don’t mind.