I'm not your regular Huxtable…

Blast from the Past

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This past weekend for July 4th, my sister and I hit I-75 to travel to the great state of Ohio. The purpose of this trip was to pick up my 14 cousin for his summer vacation and most importantly, to see my father who is in a nursing home after the stroke he suffered 5 years ago. During the drive, I was sort of nervous about the whole experience.  I hadn’t seen my dad in a year and every time I saw him I felt drained physically and emotionally. I love my dad with all my heart, but just seeing how he has changed from a lively middle-aged man to become a partially wheel chair bound individual is difficult to handle sometimes.

When we arrived it was uplifting to see my cousin. He had actually lived with my father and I before the stroke and was 9 at the time. I remembered a round faced, squeaky voiced kid, but what stood in front of me was a much taller and deeper voice version of the previous boy. Although he had changed drastically physically, what was amazing to see was how he hadn’t changed spiritually. He hadn’t turn into a typical teenager. He was still courteous, friendly, and had the same familiar tendencies that I remembered before. Seeing him definitely awakened my past self and I felt energized to see my father.

When we reached where my dad lived, he was preparing to eat. The draining feeling started to creep upon me once again but soon blew away with the wind when we began to talk. He was extremely excited to see me and it felt like old times. We talked about everything under the sun. I noticed that he was progressing a lot when it came to walking, talking, and just knowing his overall whereabouts. It was encouraging to see him.

Throughout the next 3 days, more moments of amazing seem to occur everywhere I turned.  One occurred when my father asked me to search for his electric typewriter that we had put into storage. Through searching for his things, I discovered moments of my childhood that I had totally forgotten: yearbooks, old photos of my father and I, clothing, old records. All these items, reminded me of the great times I had with my father and reminded me of my name, which means “come and redeem us” in my father’s language.

My whole life I had been breathing for myself and living for myself. Seeing my father and other family relatives reminded me what I was not only living for myself; I was living for my family. I always felt that my name put to much pressure on me. Why did he want me to redeem them (my family)? What was the purpose of naming me that? But as I think about it, I’m one of the few members of my family to actually be born in the U.S. Also, I’m the only one from the current generation to go to college. Lastly, I’m his son; the only son that he has. In his culture, the so (who later turns into the man) is supposed to lead the family. Even though I’m the youngest in my immediate family that is my purpose.

I’ve been running from this destiny for so long, but going to Ohio and seeing everyone I’ve left behind and put a spark back into my drive. I know my purpose in life and I am going to fulfill it no matter what.


Written by thecosbykid

July 9, 2009 at 11:18 am

Posted in My Life

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