Love, Rocks, & Ripples

Love, Rocks, & Ripples

By: Angela Crystal McClure

I just want to go fishing and create my own.

He was from “good means”. A two parent home. He asked if he could walk me home. My response was, “No, I’m good.’ His reaction was so sweet, “I want to be sure you make it home in one “good” piece.” He even asked, ”Can I meet your Family?”

He cared about me. No one ever expressed care quite in that way before. No one cared if I made it home safe or not before. Since I was 13 years old, I knew how to make it to the liquor store and back from purchasing after-school snacks in a sketchy neighborhood. I didn’t need help with that or with anything else, for that matter.

I am 19 now, and Kaya knows how to fend for herself.

What family? Which family? Those thoughts plagued my mind. “Naw, you don’t need to. I’m striving to create my own family. You know, start from scratch.”

He smiled kindly, “Come on Kaya, I just want to meet your infamous Dad. The Crazed Professor. Your words not mine.” We’re in Community College together and I shared with him that my Dad taught a few courses at a local University.

“Naw, let’s go fishing instead.” This had become my reply to any love interest. I find peace in fishing and skipping rocks at the lake. Something about the water’s ripples after the rock’s rupture.

Love hurts in the worst way. Especially when your family has mental health crises within it. Love is kind of like a ripple.

Disrupted by a skipping rock.

Why do I even attempt love in the first place? I have never seen love displayed properly. My parents divorced when I was 6. My first memory was my Mother walking away from our family. I was left holding the Barbie doll she’d just given me. “I love you Kaya.” My mom’s haunting words.

The pain from that loss still vibrates through my bones. My dad struggled with raising me and my brother. He busied himself with work. He would bury himself in case work and books galore.

He was the skipping rock that disturbed Mom’s peace. Left ripples for me and my brother to smooth out and make peace. Not exactly sure… was it an affair or his endless dreaming that drove her away. She just refused to pick up his broken pieces.

Dad came from brokenness. He witnessed abuse from his parents. He never physically abused my mom. At least I never saw it or don’t remember. Mom came from a beautiful loving family.

However, all love is not the best love. Mom’s family has it’s rough edges. Her folks were from the other side of the tracks, so says Dad. They protect their own. They love hard. Even unto death.

They shoot first and ask questions later. The motto that left my Dad’s first home riddled with bullets, after my Mom skipped town. My Dad stays away from my family with good reason. Personal protection.

Bullets like skipping rocks.

Dad was a bit of a hoarder. His office in our home mirrored his office at work. Piles of books and cardboard boxes everywhere. Our home was barely livable. Dad did keep the kitchen and bathrooms decent. Cluttered. But decent.

There are lessons to be learned from living your life surrounded by clutter. Fortunately/unfortunately you learn at an early age to discover treasure in trash. I say it’s a fine line between the fortunate and the unfortunate. The line between the two is a tightrope full of risks.

You also become careful about who you let in. Into your life, into your heart, or into your home. Too much isolation can lead to insanity. My Dad’s chosen isolation after driving my Mom away, led to the creation of life with missing puzzle pieces.

My brother lost his life to the streets. The loss of our mom tore him to pieces. He was so close to our mom. She left when he was 9. He would lay in bed many nights just crying. He’d often kick me out of his room.

He craved Dad’s attention but never received it. He wanted to toss a ball with Dad. He wanted to play two player video games with Dad. Dad never had the time…never made the time. Dad’s cluttered life and mind destroyed him. Neglect became my brother’s chaos.

As a young teen he’d always find Dad’s cigarettes and a can of beer that Dad forgot to put away. Most times he would squirrel it away behind the old oak tree in our vast backyard and smoke with buddies, from the next block over.

Even though he never really played with me he was always protective of me. I would watch him and his buddies throw rocks at the windows of neighbor’s homes they didn’t like. His punishments with Dad would be horrendous.

Protecting me was his way of showing his little sister love. Dwayne was super smart but never applied himself in school. Instead he urged that I be different from him and choose a better path.

He told me to be smart like Dad, but not that depressed. He taught me the importance of being street smart and aware.

Dwayne chose a fast life. As soon as he could he hooked up with one of our cousins and moved out at 18. Before he left he made me promise I’d do something with my life. A year later my Dad got word that Dwayne was selling crack.

Rocks shatter windows like skipping rocks.

My father banned me from ever hanging with that set of cousins again. Dad felt no connection to them; they were my Mom’s folks. In his mind they were to blame for my brother’s poor life choices. On the contrary, it was my Dad’s lack of presence that led to destructive holes in our family’s fabric..

I sneak to see family. Sometimes catching a second and third bus to get to my Auntie’s house. Dad doesn’t know. I’m “her Kaya”. She keeps my secrets. I treasure our closeness. She reminds me I have something special to give, when I want to give up.

This family is all I got. My only lifeline to my Momma is my Auntie. Word is my Mom is a waitress somewhere out west. She bounces between life in California and Nevada. Running. Family says she is raising a daughter out there.

One can barely imagine the hurt that stems from neglect. Trust me it sucks. I’d almost rather the story had ended with death. The pain from thinking she is somewhere pouring love into another little girl, when she left me stranded, deeply hurts. I was her little girl and she left me. What did I do wrong? What type of life is my little sister living?

“So I don’t know if I can ever give love. And you say you want to meet my family…Well, here’s how the introduction goes…”

My Brother sells rocks, Dad can go kick rocks…Mom skipped town...And well… I just want to go fishing and create my own.