weaving strands

My bro is feeling the disconnect of his life: the him from 5 years ago that still decorates his room at our parent's house, and the Samahang UCLA activist that lives in a sparce apartment in LA somewhere. It was only recently, say in the last couple of months, that the circles of my life have been coming together.

I lived at home during my college years, so I brought my college life home. My parents grumbled about the late nights and the protests. They saw pictures of my friends there, and I brought a few by. They weren't too happy about my other life.

It's been 7 years since I graduated college. I continued to do a lot of community work after college as well: arts, political. And I slowly brought various strands together, bringing my friends for visits at home, inviting my parents to attend events. When there were celebrations for myself: college graduation, engagement party, I would invite these people again to introduce the important people in my life to each other. In conversations with my parents, I would tell then stories about my friends. And each time I poured a bit of one side of my life into the other, it brought those strands closer.

So it took years of me telling my mom, "hey mom, you remember my friend, so-and-so, well, they're up to this." And she would know bit by bit about the joys and sadness of my friends, at the same time knowing bit by bit the joys and sadness of my own life. It wasn't Helen's death that brought us together, it was her life. And a choice I would make over and over and over again about bringing lives together and wanting people from one side of my life to get to know people from the other side of my life. It's these bonds and connections that make life significant and what make death meaningful.

We choose to show people our different faces, our different identities. Sometimes we allow them to choose, by falling back into roles of "sister," "daughter," "son," "roommate," "artist," "blog writer." or if we dare we choose to show them a side they don't see too often. And sometimes, you show them that side and they don't understand and they can't comprehend that this is you and this too is you. But that's because they don't know you or at least that side of you and it's like starting a whole new relationship again. It's really amazing how easy and quickly people you've known your entire life can become strangers because we assume everyone is following the entire dialogue.

If they are true people in your life, then you will work to let them know you again, and/or they will hang in there to know who you are now. I mean, I see a lot of our family every month, and even then I lose track, because I didn't stop to ask people how they were or what they're up to. And you have to decide how important it is for you to have that, because you can also choose the other way, no, I don't want this other side of my life to know about this other part. And do I really want to freak my parents out with some of the work I've done. Maybe, maybe not.

It's a continual process of "re-introducing your left hand to your right hand" as it were. And since he's in LA, the distance makes that a bit harder to do. And for a while it will make he might feel like the errand boy because it doesn't happen overnight.

So, Bro, when you are you going to bring us all these pictures of your friends in LA?