For the Brothers Who ARE Here

Back in my day, there was a coming-of-age movie called Cooley High, starring a young Glynn Turman as “Preach” and a young Lawrence Hilton-Jacobs as “Cochise.” One particularly moving scene (there were several) was when Preach poured some wine on Cochise’s untimely grave and quipped, “For the brothers who ain’t here.”

See, it was their custom to pour the first pass of libations in homage to the brothers who had gone on before; to honor their lives and presence with the best there was to offer.

Well, today, I want to honor and salute the Brothers who ARE here, or who, at least, have gone above and beyond for me.

As a single sister and single mom, it is impossible to manage everything on my own. As Jill Scott says in her song, The Fact Is (I Need You), we sisters are very, very capable, but still need the Brothers. She exquisitely lists a number of professions we can master and personas we can adopt, and even notes that we can often floss our own Bling Bling.

But, Brothers, we need you. And I, for one, am so glad you are here.

I simply cannot count the number of times the Brothers have supported Drew and me. Nor can I thank them enough. They have fixed things; bought stuff; taken us out to eat; helped us celebrate birthdays and holidays in style; sent love via email, Facebook, and text messages; and made sure we knew that there was nothing they would not do to make sure we lived like the Queen and Princess we indeed are. Just filling that male energy gap meant more than words could ever say. They all truly have gone above and beyond and, in many instances, continue to do so.

There’s one special Brother, however, who deserves an extra-special shout-out.

He’s my godfather, Uncle Rudy.

Upon losing my dad during my pregnancy, Uncle Rudy stepped up in his characteristically unassuming way and just became my Dad.

It all started when Drew was christened. We scheduled her blessing at an ungodly 7:30am service and in walked Dad after travelling all night for business. Even though he must have been exhausted, he drove from Philly and was on time! When asked why, he simply replied, “Well, neither one of you have a father so….”

That’s just him.

Uncle Rudy, or “Rufus,” as I am fond of calling him, is a fit and fine 70+ Original Playa who compliments his looks with savvy business acumen. He’s the kinda Dad that you can say swear words and take shots with but who also cooks infamous meals every Sunday just because.  His sense of humor is infectious and he creates a family out of everybody he meets. He takes all the licks the world tosses in stride and has no problem telling anyone how he sees it and exactly how he feels.

Once when my daughter was being bullied in camp, she said, “Well, Uncle Rudy, I shouldn’t fight people if they don’t hit me first.” He then shared this sage wisdom with my then eight-year-old: “Bullshit! Just trip ‘em when nobody is looking and say, ‘Oh, I’m sorry – did I bump into you?’”

Perfect, Dad. Might not have been my Sweet-Polly-Purebred advice but it worked. (What can I tell ya? He’s been working on Capitol Hill for over 20 years.)

Since then he has supported me in every way imaginable but, most importantly, has given me the fatherly love and affirmation I sorely miss, and, quite frankly, am not sure I ever had.

I thought of this because the other day I told him how, once again, life had been a bit bumpy and I had felt like I wasn’t providing the lifestyle he and my parents provided for my “cousins” and me. But I conceded, “Dad, I’ve decided that I truly am doing all I can and that will have to be enough.”

He replied, “Baby, you can look in the mirror and know without a doubt that you have done your best. I’m a witness.”

With tears in my eyes, I knew he was right and that I would have to keep on strengthening that “mental toughness” he often speaks of. He and a lot of other people got my back, know I can thrive, and are depending on me.

In that once again characteristically infectious fashion, he went on to say, “Every day, baby, is just gonna keep gettin’ brighter and brighter!”

So let’s all raise a glass (unlike Preach and Cochise, I ain’t pourin’ nothin’ out!) to all the uncles, friends, and Brothers who are here.

If nobody else says it, I will:

I need you, I love you, and I thank God for you.