I’m not a religious dude but I am very spiritual in my beliefs. When I went past my father last week I could tell he was trying to speak to me. I didn’t look his way either as I drove by the cemetery alongside the Interboro Parkway. Sure enough tho’ my dad hollered at me as I parked the car in East New York. I ran over a windblown umbrella which managed to puncture my tire inside the treadgroove.
I didn’t get paid until the following day (I did have some investments in the prA’li movement but still not enough to make anything happen). I left the car parked on the alternate side of the street so as to avoid any Friday parking summonses and I went to work. I didn’t get back into the East until after work Friday afternoon. I asked an old man where the nearest tire repair shop was and he gave me directions.
I thanked him and kept it moving since I was chasing daylight at this point. I gave a mental note to his Vietnam Veteran’s cap. I guess my dad was still looking after me. I’m sure he’s pissed at me for having my phone cutoff for all this time (FYI: I lost my Blackberry while in D.C. this past weekend. I lost my ID bundle in D.C. back in July. Does Obaama have operatives jacking me on the low? I should prA’li stay my azz out of D.C.).
When I got to my car, which is really C.S.’ whip since I don’t have a car anymore once Patty the PoloBear had been repo’d the Vietnam Vet was waiting for me. He had a jack and a tire iron. Both of which I had not. He helped me take off the tire so that I didn’t have to drive to the repair shop on the rim (which I was fully prepared to do). That would have stripped the tire and crushed the rim causing me to replace both.
Right then I decided to make the weekend a mini-dedication to my dad by activating myself for the things he believed in. I went to Washington D.C. to fight for power. Then I partied for my right to fight by going to the Brooklyn Museum of Art 1st Saturday to behold Black beauty, then and on Sunday I went to baseball game. I didn’t just go to a baseball game tho’. I went with my nephew who was my dad’s favorite grandchild, mostly because this was the one that he got to see the most. The eldest grandchild lives in North Carolina and the youngest was born a year after he passed away.
My nephew is certainly my younger brother too. He has no time for watching baseball. I think he is interested in making films tho’. The next time we are together I am going to let him hold the camera more since he knows how to operate it. My nephew is my chance to be the big brother that I wasn’t for my younger brother when he needed me the most. Of all the shit I have done to myself and others there is nothing I regret more than leaving my brother to fend for himself when he was a kid. Now as an adult I just can’t fux with him.
But I will help his son. And his son will help me. He will help me to learn patience, and understanding. He will help me to become unselfish. He will help me find tolerance in the things I dislike yet cannot change with others. Most of all he will help me find forgiveness for myself knowing that every new day is a new chance to become someone better than the day before.
