I’m currently on the train to Long Island. “Whaaaat?" You say, in a somewhat effeminate, high-pitched voice of disbelief, “they have iiiiiiinternet on the traaaaaaains now?” No, they don’t, duh! I’m typing off line. I’ll probably post it when I get to my parents house (I grew up on Long Island). Right here, I’m going to resist the typical blog urge to talk about my peeves about how people say, “I’m IN Manhattan,” instead of “I’m ON Manhattan.” Dude, Manhattan is an island, you’re ON and island, you’re IN a town. But see, I’m going to resist that. I have more important things to do: more on the Jacksons.
Well, boys and girls, where did I leave off? I think the wedding ceremony had, for all intents and purposes, ended. Ooh, just one quick detail, before we move on. I don’t remember exactly when it happened, but I think it was after Sarah, and Eric had exchanged vows, and it was definitely before the Rabbi mentioned anything about anyone kissing anyone else. But Sarah leans over and just plants one right on Eric. It was sweet, and cute, and spontaneous, and endearing, and everyone just laughed. That kind of “we’re doing things cuz it feels right, and it doesn’t necessarily have to be by anyone’s book,” was totally the general feeling of the wedding. So okay, ceremony’s over.
I said hello to my gargantuan cousin Daniel, who’s roughly 6’ 4” (I’m 5’10”—just above average height, mind you). I said something like “Hey there big guy,” my aunt Sheri laughed. We give each other a nice warm hug, and then it’s time to go say hi to the relatives. So out in the main room, I aimless walk around for a moment, and realize that there’s no one I can talk to that wouldn’t be ‘loaded’ so I go for it. Jonathon and Sherri are talking to my long lost cousin Liz. Liz I haven’t seen in flesh and blood since we were children. She’s also taller then me (why didn’t I get some of those tall Jackson genes?). I say, “Hello again,” which makes Jonathon remember when Jack Par (spelling?) resumed hosting the Tonight show, and starts his monologue with “as I was saying.”
And then I think rather quickly after that, I say hello to David. He’s awkward, unsure, and keeps saying over and over again, “yeah, great, great, yeah, great.” I said hi, and I think I shook his hand. I said, “My mother sends her love,” which was true, and I could see him acknowledge it with his face, but other then more “great, yeah,” no other reaction.
Okay, got to get this up. More to come.
Okay. I'm trying to resist making Jackson jokes. I'm going to try not post titles such as "The Jackson 3," or "The Less Disfunctional Jacksons," etc.. This entry is rather expositional and detail intensive, but it’s important to get it all down. Basically I take us through the end of the ceremony, with a little reflection on what was going on.
Here we go.
So let's see I left off when I was leaving my room for the wedding. I was conscious of not getting there too early, and having to worry about bumping into someone before the wedding. I took a cab, and was worried when I realized how close my hotel was to where the wedding was, but thankful there was traffic, and I got there with just a few minutes to spare.
I get there and everybody is saying hello and congratulating this guy who I didn’t recognize at all (I found out later he was Eric’s—Sarah’s now husband—father). So, feeling awkward, I found my way into the hall, and spotted my uncle Jonathon. A face I know! I walked over and latched on. I spotted my cousin Daniel (who’s now like 8 feet tall) but there were no seats near him, so I sat next to some people I didn’t know. The music starts and people are coming down the hall isle. First more people I don’t know, and then, well I don’t remember the order but I would assume it was Liz who came down first. We didn’t make eye contact, I’m not sure if she had seen me yet. She was tall, beautiful, and I recognized her immediately. I’m sure it helped because I had heard so much about her, but I instantly knew (from that odd confident intuition) that she had gown up into an extraordinary person.
And then Sarah comes down the isle flanked by her parents David and Phyllis. I remember the feeling in the room was genuinely happy, and I was happy too, though awkward. Sarah sees me and says, “Hi Bernie.” I say hi back and give her a giddy smile. Her parents didn’t react one bit. They didn’t look at me, nor move there heads away from that protective spot ahead. But then again, what would they have done? Stopped right there on the isle and apologized for “everything”? Asked me how I was doing? Given me a casual hello? I think the non-reaction was all you could expect.
They pass by, and I notice that David’s jacket is ripped on the back and recently re-sewn. I assume, because I have no reason to otherwise, that “he’s not well.” For all I knew he was an agoraphobic-hermit in his house for years, and finally had to emerge because of his daughter’s wedding, and put the only shaggy jacket that he had. I later found out that it was nothing of the sort, he just ripped the jacket like an hour before and they had to improvise.
The ceremony was wonderful. They had a female Rabbi, which I knew would make my mother happy, in the sense that they had a Jewish Identity, and were also part of the modern, more progressive/liberal denominations of Judaism. They had written their own vows and had the two fathers do some traditional blessings. I think halfway through the first or second blessing, David chokes up. His voice wavers, and does that high-pitched thing, when you try to talk through crying. I could see he wasn’t an emotional monster, he wasn’t this oddly cold isolated man, but a warm father who loved his daughter.
I think it’s important to say that I had no specific reason to think he was either a monster or just a somewhat troubled man, I just didn’t know. My mother told me the circumstances of their family history, but let me draw conclusions for myself. I guess I assumed he’d be this cold, scared man because of his vacancy in my mother’s life.
To be continued...
I was reunited with a part of my family this past weekend. The Jackson tribe was together again—well most of us. It was bitter sweet. Happiness and sadness combined. I’m going to try to document, best I can, what happened this weekend. Hold on tight, it’s emotional.
First some family history:
My mother's side of the family is the Jacksons. My mother has 2 brothers, and so I have 2 uncles. (I also have 2 aunts, but they are on my fathers side, that's a whole other story. Assume, from now on, when ever I mention a relative it's on my mothers side). I know my uncle Jonathon very well, grew up with his son/my cousin, bla bla bla. My uncle David, however, I don't know very well at all. How did this happen you say? Well, when I was roughly 6 or 7, my grandmother died (my grandfather died when I was an infant) and my uncle David just stopped talking to my mother and his brother. (I can get into WHY that happened later on, but basically there was some friction between my mother, David’s wife, and the rest of the family. There was some hubbub with my Grandmother’s will, but I think that wasn’t really what the break up was about. There was no great fight, no grand falling out, just a slow fade. I’ll talk more about that later.) My uncle Jonathon got back in touch with David about 10 years ago, but my mother and him have yet to talk. So there’s that.
David has two daughters, my cousins, named Liz and Sarah. I have very happy, fond memories of them from when we were kids. But I really hadn’t seen them at all growing up. About three years ago, I went to Chicago for an improv festival. I found out from my uncle Jonathon that Sara was living out there. So, I reached out, and we met up. It was pretty emotional, but nice and I was very happy it happened. We didn’t really talk much after that. Then, a few months ago, I get an email from my aunt Sheri (Jonathon’s wife), asking for my address. I find out that Sara is getting married and wants to invite me. So I RSVP late, because that’s what I always do, and next thing you know I’m in Chicago getting out of my hotel room shower, putting on my suit to go to the wedding. Which brings us up this past weekend.
More to come.
I changed the first sentence in the description of the blog ("As general as it gets..."). It was a comma joining two clauses together. So, for my style teacher, I threw in a nice little conjunction: the semi-colon. I'm going now. Feel free to shower me with accusations of being boring and anal.
Okay, so, I've had a few public blogs before, but they've always been about something specific (like my beard blog). They've never really had room for personal information. I have to admit, I'm a bit scared. It was easier when a blog was anonymous. But now people who know me can read this, and know who is writing it. EEch. It'll be hard to be forthcoming with all the details, and I won't always be able to, but blog-lovers, I will try. Okay. Tis time. Time it is. Time to embark on blog. Talk to you soon.