Snoop Dogg’s IQ is 147 and he’s a wordsmith, fo’ shizzle.
Yes, this is my blog.
The pages are a work in progress. I’d love to hear your ideas.
The pages are a work in progress. I’d love to hear your ideas.
All in Reflections
Sometimes I imagine the sisters, all a few years apart, navigating their teenage years up in the emerald highlands of West Sumatra, active volcanoes lurking in the distance. My mother, a crooner who often broke into song at gatherings, would have been the gregarious one.
She never baked cookies for me nor mended my clothes. But it was her, along with my dad, who instilled in me our family values. They were and are: Be kind, be humble, be generous, and be the best that you can be. Serve your family, your community, and your country.
The Lady knows better than most, there is a time for talk and there is a time for contemplation. She has smouldered before falling silent. Lift her back up with similar grace.
To me, their resumes are annotation of a more indelible legacy: they were kind and happy and sweet and funny. They made us smile. They made us laugh. They hugged and hugged and then hugged some more. What’s love got to do with it? A lot.
Did we not learn from all those years watching dollars and rupiahs shift from our pockets, from the pockets of the hard-working and the trusting, into a seemingly bottomless pit of greed? Have all those years not given us perspective?
It is often not easy, not at all. That tapestry on the wall, we have woven it together, not apart.
On snowy days, I would take pictures of snowflakes falling on his forehead. I typed out emails one-handed with him asleep on my lap.
