Family Ties

Well, work was slow today, but I'm not complaining. I work for a member of the state legislature and summer is our slow season. Most people are on vacation or come in to put in their 5 or 6 hours. Two and three hour lunches are common. I know someone who goes to the movies every Friday to catch a matinee. I set a new record for my daily perusal of online newspapers! Who would have thought you can spend 4 hours reading newspapers. By the time I was done it was time for lunch. Not much to report after lunch either. I visited some of my friends in other members' offices to catch up. After an hour we took a ten minute break and walked across the street to a popular frozen yogurt spot. I swear there is nothing like cool mint chocolate chip to get you through the afternoon of a brain-numbingly boring summer day in the Capitol.

So, back to the craziness. It seems like my family is a perfectly logical way for me to start my self-analysis.

I am the only child born to Juanita Williams (everyone calls her Bunny) and a man I never knew. Prior to my birth, my mother searched for a name for her baby that would be commanding, unique, majestic. Thus Theodora Williams was born. To her disappointment and to my overwhelming relief everyone calls me Dede. My mother and I lived a relatively comfortable, middle income life during my early childhood years. She married my step-father, who I consider my only father, when I was in elementary school.

The strongest presence in my life is my mother. Her personality completely dominates our family. She can be red hot and adrenaline-fueled or cold with distant or piercing eyes. Yet, whatever state, it is dramatic. I have a memory of sitting at dinner with my parents on the day of school when I had been bestowed with the honor of cleaning the blackboards by Miss Price, my teacher. I felt so proud that she had recognized my brilliance. I couldn't wait to go home and tell my parents. I remember sitting on the school bus, planning how I would make my announcement. My dad would ask me how school went; I would put my fork down and look at him seriously. "It was alright. You know today was Tuesday so we worked on fractions." Then I would wait a beat to pause for more effect. "Oh, I almost forgot," I would say, "Ms. Price chose me to clean the blackboards today", a triumphant smile on my face. My parents would rise from their chairs and give me a standing ovation, faces beaming with pride, secure in the fact that they were raising a gifted child.

Well, things didn't go quite as I had planned.

Apparently my mother had a bad day at work. So she proceded to explain in explicit detail how horrible it was. At one point, I totally blanked her voice out. All I saw was this woman. Hair: disheveled, with one patch standing straight up. Hands: gesturing every which way, as if she were playing charades. Facial expression: priceless. Think Terry McMillan-angry black woman with a touch of Jim Carrey-crazy white man.

Needless to say, after that performance my announcement pretty much fizzled.