World Issues

It's strange to be ending my vacation in much of the same way it started -- with a party. Beginning tomorrow we will have a family reunion at my parent's home. We're expecting about 89 people. Luckily only 80 of them will be spending the night. I'm exaggerating. A little.

I'm at the point of my vacation where I'm beyond impressing. I just wanna sleep until noon about, sit by the stream, and read a book or two. I don't wanna put on a smile for anyone, or pretend to remember cousins I don't have any idea about.

Family reunions take a lot out of me. I'm not going to pull the adoption card -- well, maybe I'll pull it out for just a few moments: it's hard to be surrounded by people who will undoubtedly know who I am because I'm the only black person amongst them, but still feel like a complete stranger among people who all have the same blood running through their veins, have the same cute nose sitting on their faces, and even share the same diseases, heart problems, and bone structure. I get tired of the questions and the ten minute brief on what I've been up to and what I think is important. And the Lokens (my mother's family) are all thinkers.

Imagine this: 13 children growing up in a small 3 bedroom farm house in the middle of North Dakota back in the 20's -- and every single one of them going off to college. The Lokens are filled with doctors and dentists and nurses and teachers.

There is no "So, what's your favorite subject in school" small talk. Today, one of my aunties asked me: "So Kari, tell me what you think is the biggest problem we face in the world today and what would you do to help solve it if money and resources were no issue?" After I looked at her for a minute considering if my passing my higher level math class so that maybe I could think of getting a Masters in Creative Writing was a "world problem," she edited her question slightly and asked, "Ok, well how about telling me what moves you emotionally and spiritually? What does Kari care about most?"

I can tell 'you' that about 20 minutes ago what I cared most about was that a trip to Zorbaz cost me a goodnight talk with my darling. And that there is absolutely no reception for my laptop in the loft where I'll be sleeping for the next two nights. And that I'm considering spraying the upstairs loft with the "spider spray" aforementioned darling left behind in order to protect my poor body from even more insect itchy bites. About an hour ago I realized that my 47 year old self hardly fits in with my 20 something year old cousins, even though they insist I hang out with them (there was no way on God's green earth that I was going to a "barn" with them to take in bull riding and line dancing...) and that it's about 30 degrees hotter upstairs in the loft than it is downstairs.

I don't think my musings is what she had in mind.

I'm hardly thinking about world problems and what I can do to fix them. I'm thinking about my problems that feel as big as the world and wondering if I have time to conquer them at all. I'm thinking about how long it took me to "wake up" and if maybe it's possible that I waited too long. I'm thinking about this next phase of my life and looking at trivial things (more trivial than my lack of internet connection) and if maybe I should let a few of these time suckers go. I'm wondering if I have the courage and strength of mind to let go of the distractions and focus, for once, on myself and my goals. I'm thinking a lot about love. Wondering how it's even possible that I love her more now than ever and how it physically aches to not be able to tell her and show her every day just how much. I'm wondering if my little cousin sees how I look at her and her boyfriend (who is here for a day or two of the reunion) with envy -- I wish I was that young and that my darling was that close.

Not even sure what this blog is suppose to be about or what to name it at this point. I'm going to go upstairs, open up a book, and read it until I fall asleep. I'm going to pray that the next couple of days go by fast and that I find something worthwhile in the experience.

Oh -- before I fell asleep, I almost stumbled on what I wanted to write my next book about. I think I might write it about my mother. I think I'll write it about myself, too. I think I will write about the thirty or so years with her when I wondered if we could ever love one another even a tiny bit. And then the few years when suddenly I was the daughter she always wanted. And then I think I'll write about losing her again. And I think I'll make the daughter a Lesbian. But I don't think I'll make her black. Writing about trans-racial adoption, Lesbian issues and Alzheimer's disease just might be a bit too much, really. 

Not completely world issues -- even though sometimes it feels a bit like it.