It's been a very rough few days, to understate the matter. And it's had me thinking a lot.
When any sort of tragedy hits, be it minor or major, you discover very quickly who your friends are. They're the ones who contact you, not just once, but a few times over the course of days, to see how you're doing. For everyone who did that with me, whether it was via phone call, text, email, or Facebook, I give you my biggest and most heartfelt thanks. I cannot express my gratitude in this language or in any other.
My friend Corey Robinson told me, years ago before he passed, that "family need not be blood." Basically, you have two families in this life. The family you are born into/are raised with, and the family that you choose, that you create with your heart. Some of us are lucky enough to have the two overlap. I'm one of those. I was born into a pretty kick-ass family, and as I have grown "from a seed to a tree" as Shannon Hoon put it, that family has only expanded. I have more people that I would consider family now than I would ever have imagined possible back when I was an angry freshman in high school.
One of those people was Scotty. I feel like crap for taking more time to get to know him than the rest of my family did. What can I say, I tend to hold people at arm's length at first, and I was much worse back then. Seriously. Scotty was very much responsible for relieving me of much of my cynical attitude that everyone was either out to get me or was laughing at me behind my back, and that no one short of my immediate family actually liked me. I am not saying this in an attempt to garner any sort of sympathy or reassurance as to who likes me and who does not, so if you comment, please refrain from doing so. I am explaining something here.
Scotty had no patience with me taking my time to warm up to him. Any time I glanced at him, he grinned at me. He carried on conversations no matter how limited my responses were. Hell, he snuck up behind me one night and decided to rub my shoulders, which scared the bejeezus out of me and almost got him punched. And his efforts paid off. He cracked my shell and pretty soon he'd made himself a spot in my heart.
Scotty introduced me as his sister, my siblings as his siblings. He called my parents his parents too. Whether there was common DNA between us or not is irrelevant. He was my brother, and I loved him for everything he was, everything he stood for, and everything he hoped for, wished for, dreamed of. I love him as much as I do Travis, Jeni, Mom, Dad, and Diddy. When he told me he considered me his sister, I never thought twice about it.
I don't need a piece of paper to tell me what's written in the heart. I know what he told me, and how I felt. I know what he'd say on the phone or what he would text me, or what I would text him. And I know what he said to his friends about me, my sibs, and my folks.
That being said, I am honoring him in the way I live my life. I am honoring the principle of love that he lived out every day. I am blessed with some of the best friends in the world, and I've deleted the ones from my friend list who weren't really friends at all. I'm going to stop being passive in regards to waiting for things to happen, because after all, you never know what's going to happen. I'm going to go after what I want, and do what I need to do. I'm going to email people regarding job applications (including the people at the casino). I'm going to start wearing bright colors more often and wearing makeup whenever I leave the house, because those are things he brought up to me frequently. I'm going to sing more often, even though my voice is mediocre at best. I'm going to raise my boys to be accepting of people of all sorts, to determine who they associate with based on each individual's personality, rather than the other things kids tend to judge people on. Compassion instead of prejudice, love instead of fear. I'll teach them to dance like no one is watching, to greet the world with an open heart and open eyes, and to treat people the way they'd want to be treated themselves.
For the legacy of love, acceptance, and joy that he left me, I give thanks.
For the privilege of knowing him, I give thanks.
For the honor of being considered his sister, for being part of his heart family, I give thanks.
When any sort of tragedy hits, be it minor or major, you discover very quickly who your friends are. They're the ones who contact you, not just once, but a few times over the course of days, to see how you're doing. For everyone who did that with me, whether it was via phone call, text, email, or Facebook, I give you my biggest and most heartfelt thanks. I cannot express my gratitude in this language or in any other.
My friend Corey Robinson told me, years ago before he passed, that "family need not be blood." Basically, you have two families in this life. The family you are born into/are raised with, and the family that you choose, that you create with your heart. Some of us are lucky enough to have the two overlap. I'm one of those. I was born into a pretty kick-ass family, and as I have grown "from a seed to a tree" as Shannon Hoon put it, that family has only expanded. I have more people that I would consider family now than I would ever have imagined possible back when I was an angry freshman in high school.
One of those people was Scotty. I feel like crap for taking more time to get to know him than the rest of my family did. What can I say, I tend to hold people at arm's length at first, and I was much worse back then. Seriously. Scotty was very much responsible for relieving me of much of my cynical attitude that everyone was either out to get me or was laughing at me behind my back, and that no one short of my immediate family actually liked me. I am not saying this in an attempt to garner any sort of sympathy or reassurance as to who likes me and who does not, so if you comment, please refrain from doing so. I am explaining something here.
Scotty had no patience with me taking my time to warm up to him. Any time I glanced at him, he grinned at me. He carried on conversations no matter how limited my responses were. Hell, he snuck up behind me one night and decided to rub my shoulders, which scared the bejeezus out of me and almost got him punched. And his efforts paid off. He cracked my shell and pretty soon he'd made himself a spot in my heart.
Scotty introduced me as his sister, my siblings as his siblings. He called my parents his parents too. Whether there was common DNA between us or not is irrelevant. He was my brother, and I loved him for everything he was, everything he stood for, and everything he hoped for, wished for, dreamed of. I love him as much as I do Travis, Jeni, Mom, Dad, and Diddy. When he told me he considered me his sister, I never thought twice about it.
I don't need a piece of paper to tell me what's written in the heart. I know what he told me, and how I felt. I know what he'd say on the phone or what he would text me, or what I would text him. And I know what he said to his friends about me, my sibs, and my folks.
That being said, I am honoring him in the way I live my life. I am honoring the principle of love that he lived out every day. I am blessed with some of the best friends in the world, and I've deleted the ones from my friend list who weren't really friends at all. I'm going to stop being passive in regards to waiting for things to happen, because after all, you never know what's going to happen. I'm going to go after what I want, and do what I need to do. I'm going to email people regarding job applications (including the people at the casino). I'm going to start wearing bright colors more often and wearing makeup whenever I leave the house, because those are things he brought up to me frequently. I'm going to sing more often, even though my voice is mediocre at best. I'm going to raise my boys to be accepting of people of all sorts, to determine who they associate with based on each individual's personality, rather than the other things kids tend to judge people on. Compassion instead of prejudice, love instead of fear. I'll teach them to dance like no one is watching, to greet the world with an open heart and open eyes, and to treat people the way they'd want to be treated themselves.
For the legacy of love, acceptance, and joy that he left me, I give thanks.
For the privilege of knowing him, I give thanks.
For the honor of being considered his sister, for being part of his heart family, I give thanks.
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