Building the Brood

The saying goes to never meet your heroes, because they’ll let you down or end up being huge jerks in real life – think Stu Wolff for my millennial girlies. I WANT ONION RINGS. But what do they, whoever the mysterious but apparently ever so wise ~they~, say when you grow up with your heroes? Shoot! Not only have we met, but now they carry the burden of being my hero? A subscription they didn’t sign up for but can’t even opt out of? Woof. But what if there was another perspective, rooted in the new covenant to love one another? We all know chapter 13 verse 4 of the first letter from St. Paul to the Corinthians, ‘love is patient, love is kind …’. And yet God knows we are not capable of loving each other the way He loves us, but he tells us to try anyway. Could it really be that simple? The secret lies with Charlotte.

What does it mean to be someone’s hero, an aspiration to try to emulate both in obvious ways (style) but also more subtle ways (character)? The way you respond to conflict out loud but also how you perceive the world around you, most often unaware someone is watching during those quieter moments just thinking to yourself or going about your business on auto pilot. For the same reason everyone loves a good comeback story, I think we're meant to look up to our heroes and love them the way God loves us. How we can love each other as God does is to keep our hearts open, forgive immediately, persevere on healing and never give up on trying to rebuild trust – 4 easy steps on how you become a hero! Hopefully everyone reading this can think of someone they look up to and maybe still have the opportunity to call on for guidance, or just a shoulder to cry on because they offer unconditional support. The peace and stability they’re able to provide is what draws us to them in the first place but also what give us the space to figure out the way forward. But, that’s also actually a lot of pressure when I think about it like that. Besides, did they even want that kind of arrangement?

I will forever maintain that is not my fault I am a Pisces, prone to emote and therefore it is everyone else around me who must bear the burden of my Daytime Emmy energy. God after all creates only good things, so – we must all deal with it. But for someone like me, it is mission (life) critical to have the abundant brood of hen-roes around to aspire to and call on for support. Love is patient, which for me looked like my mother, sisters, cousin, aunts, grandmothers and best girlfriends in the world never stop hearing about the same struggles for an indeterminate amount of time, maybe never ending on earth, and still offering the same -or sometimes more- amount of compassion. Love is kind, which is looking at my chicken noodle now porridge soup and eating it anyway with a smile. Kindness is cheering me on and rallying behind my newest idea that may or may not last longer than a season (present readers included). For a few minutes I was going to become a Kindle Unlimited novella writer, and you better believe I had nothing but a resounding YES when I shopped that around. Maybe that will still come to pass??? We’ll see how long this goes first :) Love is not self-seeking and rejoices in the truth (1 Cor 13:5-6) which looks like sacrificing your time, setting your own interests or problems aside, and giving mildly divided (mothers have to mother) attention to someone else to give them what they may not want but need to hear. Only the strongest of them could cut me off at Taylor’s 17th birthday party and hold back the laughter as I complained about being embarrassed in front of my friends. The ‘friends’ in question was actually just one person ten years my senior and was probably waiting for someone to get the hook before I opened the next Beverly.

Love does not dishonor others, anger easily or keep a record of wrongdoings (1 Cor 13:5). For anyone that's a parent or just alive, you know how hard it is sometimes to bite your tongue from saying (shouting) I TOLD YOU when you said not to touch that, for example. Maybe that's not exclusive to parents and eldest sibs, although I think everyone has a story about Tristan in mind (beach cactus or frozen flagpole, anyone?), but I think we corner the market at least. In any case, it's one of the harder challenges not to keep score and remind someone of their less than optimal choices when the consequences catch up eventually. Gentle, but firm guidance that has to be repeated time and time again, which takes incredible effort not to dishonor or demean, is the kind of love that got me through the Sims game that is college years.

The other, equally important, half of the brood that sustains my life are my husband, dads (not married to each other), uncles, brothers, cousins and grandfathers whom too many share my first name which is a great ice breaker I use often. But that doesn't mean I didn't try out some (great) nicknames I made up for myself ... to a crowd of sibs who DO corner the market on an elephants memory of things you don't need to remember so vividly. Can I get any votes for J Leigh??!! For at least an hour, one of the longest hours of my life, two of my uncles chased me through TJ Maxx loudly asking for Jay / J Leigh and telling strangers not to call me anything but that, I wouldn't answer to anything else. For a swarthy eleven year old with sideburns, I will never forget this character building experience.

Picture this - Sicily, 1948 ... But really, more like 1995 set of Heavyweights when Tony Perkis takes over and shares his experience working with children, I attended private Catholic schools for my entire life until college, so I was looking forward to interacting with children for the first time. The same sister who had a front row (passenger) seat for almost my entire- at least in living memory- life would no longer there to pester me to please drive us to school and give judgmental looks at my breakfast of Pop-tarts and Dr. Pepper. Never underestimate the power of a sister or their side eye. Basically I was buoyed by love and fun in a smol pond for my entire academic life. But that fun would only last so long, because you can’t make the jump from the comfort of sixty (or less) classmates to five thousand without a couple of expectation resets. The Perki-sizing started after I was accepted to VCU in the spring of 2011, the season after they made it to the Final Four in college hoops so they were riding a high on the PR trail. I was excited to move somewhere new, meet new people and try it out in the big city. SIKE. After orientation I realized it was actually a lonely, dark, scary place filled with so many thin men (remember -I was sexy and chubby, man) and skinny shoes called Toms. These heathens were chewing gum openly and had their fingermails (according to Maeve's vocab) painted all different colors. It was a culture shock would be putting it mildly.

Of course taking the Emmy winning approach, I gave up on the dream entirely and Tony Perkis Sr was en route to pick my sad ass up. Someone who was in their mid-twenties, just hitting the peak fun part of their life in a charming new home with an alarm system I somehow only learned to set off but never turn off, was agreeing with no hesitation to let Eeyore move right in and start rummaging through the pantry. By now you know that's not what ended up happening, ergo enter uncle number two. Similarly in an exciting phase of their life, with a young family in their own beautiful new home, had taken time away to force feed ;) me a Potbelly sandwich and tough love speech right after washing it down with a chocolate milkshake. The message boiled down to - I would have been unconditionally supported and still loved if I really felt it was the right choice chose to stay home. But how will you know if you don’t try and I’ll effectively finance this idea and still love you if it's a flop. How do you compete with those terms? The art of the deal. And Potbelly milkshakes with a cookie on the straw. To have the unconditional support to stay or to go is a blessing that set me on the path He laid out for me. These two would continue to support me through college by way of weekly telephone calls between delegations and joining (chaperoning) me on trips for poster presentations in none other than the city of brotherly love.

But even as I agreed to be brave and try it out, I was sleepy, lonely and reeling from the humility of going from the top of my game to sharing a bedroom with a stranger. By the second month of classes, I’d made up my mind that I’d finish the semester and start looking for ways to transfer somewhere at home. But God would intervene again and someone who went to high school with me but was never more than just a friendly face in passing, texted me to see if I wanted to grab lunch together. She’s my best friend to this day and would end up introducing me to the other two ladies that I now have the blessing of calling my very best girlfriends. So of course our first impression was perfect, as I accidentally passed gas walking into the dining hall and thus avoiding any possibly future awkward situations. Talk about blowing someone away! In this story of Junie B Jones, the b stands for boot. Life started to get a little brighter and I started laughing a lot more, which started to look like maybe giving VCU another chance. We went to as many men's basketball games as we could, took lots of field trips to Short Pump mall and eventually went on to live together during and after college, until I met my husband. These relationships are the rock of my friendships today and no one deserves more snaps than those ROWDY RAMS HEYO!!!

Short Pump Urban Outfitters (2011). No one was harmed during the taking of this photograph

Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres (1 Cor 13:7). Who else could have such enduring affinities for me other than my sisters? My very first friends, the ones I have laughed and cried the hardest with and look forward to the next visit before the current one even ends. The girls who have seen me at my coolest June to my highest points and everywhere in between. My blessings in the form of abundant sibs continue with the two month age difference and another shared name (sensing a theme?) between my cousin and me, who grew up spending every holiday or open weekend together. The mediator between my sister and me, protecting us from the questionables at the beach arcade and ALWAYS gently correcting one of us on how to wear or put something on properly. The one that has to sit in the middle at church to stop an argument or laughing fit or sit courtside for our group chat jabs. She trusts me when I make a life changing decision to stay home with my children, hopes only for a smooth transition but room for growth too, and perseveres when I go dark, making as many trips, calls or messages as it takes to lift me up.

Dolles arcade had the best questionables (2007).

Throughout this experience, I’ve learned more deeply that there is no easy walk through life and no matter which decision you make there will be unexpected challenges and opportunities previously unfathomable. But I think that’s the point- life’s hard, build your brood. To be human means imperfection, fallibility, carrying your cross through the sojourn that is life AND the redemption, the tomorrow, the comeback. The struggle is not only real, but rather human - thank God whose love never fails and whose mercy endures forever. “This is my commandment: love one another as I love you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you” (John 15:12-14). Our Father, who sent His only begotten son to become man and dwell among us left us with the simplicity of – love each other and we will know Christ’s friendship. Jesus shows us this through his relationships with cousin, John who baptized him; Peter, his best friend on whom he built his church; Mary Magdelene who was ashamed of her ways but through his forgiveness, given another chance to see the glory of God.

Only a couple of characters in the story of my life are featured here, but I've been blessed beyond measure with the self-less, ever supportive men and women I can call my family. If I could write a story for every one of them (and maybe I will!), it would still fall short for how impactful every person in my life has been. The people around me are the reason I can take this leap, because their love manifests His love and that is the ultimate gift we can receive. To the real he- and hen-roes of my story, I love you and thank you for loving me.

Until next week, the rest is His & Hen-story.