Tag: family

469: “Here In My Heart” (Moana)

“I will carry you here in my heart, you remind me
That come what may—I know the way—”
                –Moana

                Tomorrow I’m getting married!
                Tonight I just finished watching Moana with my partner, my siblings, my nieces, and my mom. This morning uncles and cousins and friends and family came together in a park to chat and meet and celebrate. (And eat delicious food). As one of my cousins was leaving, we paused in the parking lot, talking just a little more. I commented that when I moved away—to Massachusetts for college, at seventeen, then to India and Oklahoma and Illinois for work—I didn’t quite understand that moving meant all my people back here would be relationships I had to visit from far away. Of course I knew that. But I didn’t understand. 
                My cousin laughed and said something casual about here we were, though, chatting. Still connected.
                Tonight, one of my favorite parts of the movie is Moana running to hug her grandmother’s spirit. In lots of movies, the animators might depict the spirit as incorporeal—Moana’s hands could pass right through. A spirit could become a light to guide or talk but not to touch. Instead Moana throws herself forward and her grandmother’s spirit catches her. Holds her. The two leaning together. I love how real we are to each other, across whatever seas. I love how we love.

by Azlan

465: A “Photo of my Grandma” (Alexis Pauline Gumbs)

                “I found this yearbook photo of my grandma when she was sixteen yesterday and I can’t stop looking in her eyes. I am so grateful and proud to be in the lineage of this fierce black indigenous woman who would grow up to face her fear of flying, and all her other fears, participate in revolutions, found countless organizations, work in solidarity with women all over the world and speak destiny into her granddaughter’s ear. I love every version of you.💜”
                -Alexis Pauline Gumbs on her instagram

                I love every version of you.
                Going through boxes, today, finding photographs of my grandparents ten years younger than I am now, my great grandmother younger than I am now, I feel a kind of tickling glee. An excitement, almost mischievous, like sneaking downstairs at nine years old to taste the cookies I’m not supposed to eat and finding them something I can’t name. Ginger and cayenne pepper, maybe, and delicious. 
                And then I feel a kind of distance. All my grandparents have passed away. Looking into their eyes I wish I’d learned more from them. Sat more often with them. Stood or knelt at their elbow to work in the garden or play a game or plan a local meeting for one of the associations/clubs they joined/led. And I feel a kind of depth. It’s so easy, with instagram, with the press of a hustle culture and the fears of an expansion economy, to think that now is somehow more real than then. Today I held hair my great grandmother trimmed from my grandmother’s head. A little icky, honestly, and a lot sweet, and packed neatly in tissue paper. Today I held an award my grandparents’ won in a bridge tournament, and some of the cards they played with, and spare dice stored meticulously in my grandfather’s pill bottle. (My mom says I get my love of dice and card games from them). Today I stepped into the oceans of their wild, vibrant, chance, eclectic, chaotic lives. And those lives felt close. And those lives felt far away. And that everyday habit of pretending my life is somehow more real than theirs seemed so laughable. And Gumbs suggested one way through the distance and the closeness is gratitude and love for every version of you.

by Azlan