Childhood remembrances are always a drag, if you're black

Nikki-Rosa
childhood rememberances are always a drag
if you're Black
you always remember things like living in Woodlawn
with no inside toilet
and if you become famous or something
they never talk about how happy you were to have
your mother
all to yourself and
how good the water felt when you got your bath
from one of those
big tubs that folk in chicago barbeque in
and somehow when you talk about home
it never gets across how much you
understood their feelings
as the whole family attended meetings about Hollydale
and even though you remember
your biographers never understand
your father's pain as he sells his stock
and another dream goes
And though your're poor it isn't poverty that
concerns you
and though they fought a lot
it isn't your father's drinking that makes any difference
but only that everybody is together and you
and your sister have happy birthdays and very good
Christmasses
and I really hope no white person ever has cause
to write about me
because they never understand
Black love is Black wealth and they'll
probably talk about my hard childhood
and never understand that
all the while I was quite happy

So I spent the day with my grandmother yesterday, and we just hung out. I cleaned, received an heirloom dresser, it's gorgeous. It all went well, but then my mom came over and my grandmother and her were having a general discussion about fathers and my grandmother says, "just like her {to me}, she knows nothing about her father it's just a shame", and I immediately was extremely upset, and I wonder if that's the story that she uses to describe my relationship with my father to others. That's not the wording I would ever use to describe my dealings with him. I could know my father. It's untrue for me to say that he's never reached out before. It's not true that I've never communicated with him, that he didn't act like he wanted further communication. He did. But, as I said in the post "He is Not My Father" I didn't want to get to know him for fear that he would ruin the good image of what a father should be that my grandfather gave me. 

I didn't say anything to her in that moment, but it's been on my mind since it happened. I honestly feel like when people tell your story, it never gets the nuance that it should, and it's my pet peeve. I really wish people wouldn't do that. Please don't ever try and tell my story.  I'm complicated. My story and my relationships even more so. I'm a loner, slow to warm-up, introvert. I'm happy in that. It's me. I would be unhappy if I was anything else. I also feel like it's one of the things that's kind of an issue with the blog, because I'm so open on here, people think that they know my story, the complete picture, or everything about me. There's no way that anyone could. I focus all my posts on a central issue or lesson I've learned. Things get left out. I purposely keep some of me to myself. My cup is full, and you're getting the run over. 

I just felt like I needed to say that.