blood harmony
I always longed for family. You do not have to be a psychology major to understand it stems from not having had a stable fmily during childhood. Even when they were supposedly a couple my parents never lived together. We lived in a small town and my father lived in the university city where they had met. It made sense, of course. My father needed to live near the university, and my mother where the first job after university took her. And yet... did they really. My father wrote his PhD thesis and I know a lot of PhD students today that live in one city while the university and their professor is in another. They just write and once in a while travel to meet up with their professor. My mother could not find a single job that brought her back to university town? Especially after her first boss found out she was pregnant and f8red her as soon as possible?
When I was about three they split for good and I clung to all kinds of family. Imaginary sibling, famous family, boyfriend's family. And I was ecstatic when I found out I had indeed an older half-sister, as my mother suspected. I wanted us to be really close and so did she, but we were strangers after all. Over the years we have drifted in and out of each other's lives.
Right now we have a really good phase. She lives in the city part-time and on a former farm in the countryside. They had a big celebration in the summer and invited anyone and everyone. My sister's bandmates and queer friends, her partner's colleagues from the opera, and family. I was the only family on my sister's side while his , siblings, parents, and aunt and uncle traveled from the baltics for the occasion.
When I met them and explained who I was, they exclaimed: Oh so you are family then?!
It was a magical, freaky weekend. My sister and her boyfriend sang, my sister's band played and the local villagers played folk music. It was quite a clash. And everyone danced, even the 80 year old aunt and uncle! I want to be like that when I am old. As. The night drew to a close, more and more guests went to leave until finally it was just the me, my sister, two of her friends, her partner, and his relatives. They brought out the good liqueur, grabbed some of the instruments that were everywhere. So beautiful. I tried to capture it but a cheapo phone recording did not do the beauty of the garmonies any justice. And yet I could not join in. Everything I tried to improvise sounded wrong to my ears. I was unsuure whether my voice matched theirs and was all around self-conscious. As the night drew to a close, I gave up and go to bed.
The next day, just the families left now, we had breakfast and cleaned up the remains of the party while a villager brought a horse for the partner's sister to ride. The uncle and father tended to the trees and when I was behind the woodshed I heard him hum a familiar tune. I knew that one. And I knew the lyrics, too. I felt like I could finally contribute something. And so we sang together, him in the courtyard, me behind the shed until we met just as the song drew to a close. Magical movie moment. And they finally heard my voice. It takes courage and gives strengthat the same time, to have your voice be heard and be seen for who you are.
When I was about three they split for good and I clung to all kinds of family. Imaginary sibling, famous family, boyfriend's family. And I was ecstatic when I found out I had indeed an older half-sister, as my mother suspected. I wanted us to be really close and so did she, but we were strangers after all. Over the years we have drifted in and out of each other's lives.
Right now we have a really good phase. She lives in the city part-time and on a former farm in the countryside. They had a big celebration in the summer and invited anyone and everyone. My sister's bandmates and queer friends, her partner's colleagues from the opera, and family. I was the only family on my sister's side while his , siblings, parents, and aunt and uncle traveled from the baltics for the occasion.
When I met them and explained who I was, they exclaimed: Oh so you are family then?!
It was a magical, freaky weekend. My sister and her boyfriend sang, my sister's band played and the local villagers played folk music. It was quite a clash. And everyone danced, even the 80 year old aunt and uncle! I want to be like that when I am old. As. The night drew to a close, more and more guests went to leave until finally it was just the me, my sister, two of her friends, her partner, and his relatives. They brought out the good liqueur, grabbed some of the instruments that were everywhere. So beautiful. I tried to capture it but a cheapo phone recording did not do the beauty of the garmonies any justice. And yet I could not join in. Everything I tried to improvise sounded wrong to my ears. I was unsuure whether my voice matched theirs and was all around self-conscious. As the night drew to a close, I gave up and go to bed.
The next day, just the families left now, we had breakfast and cleaned up the remains of the party while a villager brought a horse for the partner's sister to ride. The uncle and father tended to the trees and when I was behind the woodshed I heard him hum a familiar tune. I knew that one. And I knew the lyrics, too. I felt like I could finally contribute something. And so we sang together, him in the courtyard, me behind the shed until we met just as the song drew to a close. Magical movie moment. And they finally heard my voice. It takes courage and gives strengthat the same time, to have your voice be heard and be seen for who you are.