My dad has been ill for a few days or months depending on whether or not I count the length of time I was in denial for, but he hasn't lost his acerbic sense of humour. He's always been sharp-tongued, quick witted and unhealthily arrogant. So his tongue has been sharper because I imagine it's a sobering thought when Superman realises he's mortal, when he comes in contact with his kryptonite. He has spent the whole week telling my sisters and I not to let anyone come and pray for him because often the people who come bathed in the cloak of concern have really come to grab your cape and show the world. I don't know where his paranoia comes from. "I'm not cultured enough to stop people who come in here with a song, how's about Hi, how're you feeling." Dad.
I inherited my dad's bad eyesight, my mom's naivety, my grandad's insane intelligence (no really) and other awesome things I went shopping for in the gene pool. I didn't realise though that paranoia was inherent. I promise you my younger sister probably has exclusive rights on this. She believes everyone is out to get her and her all amazing everything, her and my dad are a glitch in my "benefit of the doubt" radar. She refuses to share blankets whose history she doesn't know, she won't eat food if your hands look suspect (of if your eye twitches), she won't take a bath unless she's filled the tub or mopped the shower floor with Domestos first. She finds herself turning that cynicism onto members of our family. She is like a wolf with her cubswhen it comes to her family, warding off perceived enemies with a single flick of her perfectly arched brow. She was protective with my father's ailment because people really do wear concern well. "Game recognises game and you're dressed funny!" Anele.
My other sister, the queen of amazing, the ruler of a land called awesome (I just live there). She is a warrior, a fighter who doesn't need heavy artillery. You look at her and you're thrown by her sweet and child-like demeanour. Put her in hot water and then you cower but not because of her imposing her awesomeness on you but because of how swiftly and effectively she deals with anything that may pose as a disturbance in her pursuit of awesome. Her one "flaw" like everyone in my family is her sharp sense of humour. Whether or not her heart is pumping tears and her intenstines are knotted from worry she always puts other's before herself. Like she did my ego this one night, I tell her about Anele likening my athletic skills to Caster Semenya and she says "sorry what, did she say you LOOK like Caster?" and I blank stare her, flick my hair, file my nails, pat my weave, click my heels (which my superpowers allow me to put on in 0.35 seconds) and through my pout I said "not look like but talented like" and she says "no wait take your glasses off..." then she walked out guffawing the whole way, she may have been mumbling "strike one" the whole way, I can't be sure being one-upped affects my hearing.
The jam on my bread
I've got other siblings, blessings, delicious somethings I call family. I'll blog about them next time, I told you I wanted to share my loaf of life with you, these strong people who dare to find humour where it has no right to exist. This is home. This is my heart.
Stay beautiful.
