“Children of a Mother who taught all of her children to love and be loved by eachother”

The photo above is of (clockwise, beginning with my brother in pink) my brother, my cousin Philip’s fiance Stephane, Philip Jr., TJ, his wife and my cousin Kim, my cousin Kelly, my cousin Avery (who’s hand makes an appearance, my apologies Avery for the exclusion, we love you regardless) and lastly, but certainly not least – first even, as she’s the first Grandchild – Stephanie. The first to bring a beautiful child into the family.

This, above, is what ‘history’ in its essence. This past weekend we all gathered in order to celebrate my Grandmother’s 80th birthday. What’s significant about my Grandmother, of the many things, is the amount of people she’s managed to influence in her life and the things that have been set in motion as a result of it.

Many times, and I pray many more, we’ve sat down and discussed our family history. From Monongahela, Penn. to Pittsburgh, Penn., to Chicago, Ill., to Atlanta, GA., and places inbetween. No doubt the stories she’s left with me will remain as I dig further through the archives for, essentially, who I am.

What struck me about this past weekend was how everyone in the above picture is grown, and specifically Phil and Kim. His fiance and Her Husband are wonderful additions to our family unit and to hear people I’ve spent a majority of my life around begin to substantively discuss what it means to be family, to grow in unison with another, while in all coming to terms with our mortality, and lastly – perhaps most importantly – the need for divine recognition.

We are history in motion, specifically Black history and I am absolutely blessed to be a part of it.

Miles Davis – Blue in Green