Ties. Not neckties but Family Ties. Not the TV show but I guess family ties in general. Which is more about relationships of the built-in variety really. Maybe that’s what everything is about. Relationship with others. Relationships with yourself. Relationship singular…not sure if you can have a relationship with yourself. But maybe we all do.

I missed a phone call from my mom the other day. It was actually missed and not “missed” because sometimes I don’t hear it but truthfully, most times I don’t pick up. Answering a phone? What is this, the 90s?

Check it out I don’t answer my mom’s phone calls half the time ‘cause I’m a terrible child (yet still the best. More on this later).

My mom’s missed phone call? It was about my sister.

I don’t talk about my family much because…I don’t. But my sister had her second round with cancer and uh, she ain’t going to make it. I would normally save this post for after but it’s been brewing for a few weeks so I might as well post it.

Weird message. Weird to me as their relationship is strained at best. Still, I could only hear the care and concern when she called me. Which got me wondering and since I don’t have kids, do parents ever stop seeing their kids as kids? My sister is 40 and my mom was still concerned about her. They argue all the time and there’s some lots of yelling (shit they need to be cool like me) and well, I guess a mother’s love doesn’t ever go away. It’ll leave a voicemail if you try to ignore it, trust me.

I find that it’s a weird dynamic, people who don’t get along but somehow they have to. It’s like work but more meaningful as in there’s actually meaning. I guess that’s being an adult? Being part of a family? Maybe being a person? I wouldn’t know. But given how I’ve seen their dynamic play out I didn’t think, know, that it would end up like that. It’s just another thing I don’t know about yet or maybe won’t ever #faby #byfa #foreveralonebeeyang #beeyangforeveralone #fatassbeeyang #beeyangfatass

I went to my sister’s house and my mom let me in. I see the little boy – he’s the best by the way. Not ‘cause he’s a boy but because he’s the youngest. Sorry, it’s #science and you can’t argue with that (actually, that’s how science works). But really, the youngest child is the best child. I don’t make the rules it’s just known.

I ask him where his mom is and this mofo here says “mommy’s dead” like WTH. She’s just tired and sleepy kid. Bastard. At least he’s really good looking (and looks just like his cool uncle Bee). There’s 5 little monkeys running around here and I don’t know anything about raising kids but I think it’s 90% yelling “careful!” and “shhh!” because that’s all I ever say to them when I’m around them.

I head in to her room and she’s not looking good.

Turns out she’s not just tired and sleepy.

Damn.

My sister took care of me growing up. Not in the day-to-day raising (thanks mom, dad!) but she taught me to drive and do other cool shit. She had a huge influence on me growing up. Guess that’s what family does (thanks cousins, friends!). They’re as much a part of you and not as much a part of you as you want allow them to be. That’s not to say she’s all cool. She was a total bitch to me at times and my parents and well, everyone. But that’s who she is. I hesitated to leave that out but that would be denying her for who she is and that’s not the sister I know. She also gets angry. I had a conversation with my mom and later on, one of my cousins who mentioned that my sister and my brother both get angry. Incredibly angry. I guess it runs in the family cause I’ll get angry, too. Damned Yang blood.

She’s in the hospital now. She’s leaving behind her family, that’s the real tragedy. You shouldn’t have to bury anyone early and kids shouldn’t have to grow up without their mom. But that’s what we’ve got.

Anyway, writing is how I cope with shit so here we are. Thanks for reading.

written July 11 – July 25 2018