Now that I feel I truly exhausted February, March, and the beginning of April, it’s time I move on to some pages that were a bit more uncomfortable to read and left me wondering how would I write about them.  Writing about what is in these pages means writing about Babu.  No matter what I do, it means passing judgement on her character.  As the keeper of this family’s story, I pass judgement on everyone in these pages.   I certainly never intended that, but here I am.  These pages have weight.  Whether I jumped on board to call Adele Janik an antagonist when all she ever did wrong was to get the boy Babu wanted, or give the side eye to Jeb who seems to be in a long process of breaking Ernie’s heart.  I can sometimes forget these are real people and this account is first person, and the narrator is, like all first person narrators,  not completely reliable.  I was born and raised on, educated about, and seek to emulate the structure of story so I look for heroes and villains.  Babu, of course, is no hero, but what if there ever ends up being a clear villain?  Babu is none to happy with Jakey in the next few months and it rests on my shoulders to interpret it.  I guess, I don’t have to.  I can candy coat it and only show this blog world the pretty times.  Hell, I could scandalize it, maybe a few more views?  I could try to mitigate and justify and explain away, trying to give these “characters,” (AKA real people,) just enough three dimensionality to be “good writing” but leave them still shining, for their grandchildren and so forth.  For the moment when someone reads this blog and comes across a name of a minor character, or major, and says: “That’s my…!”

How will I proceed?  Yes, some mitigation will happen.  But I’m here to tell a story, a story of real people, flawed people, lives actually lived and though I will attempt to tell it as cleanly and truthfully as possible, I will be gentle, I will shine understanding onto it.  I will respect these people.  I will give you the perspective I have of these people, those I’ve come to know living in this home and those I’ve never met, gone long before I got a chance to meet them.  And that perspective is that I love them.  I accept them.  I’d like to show you why.

Don’t worry.  I have no horror to share with you, nothing infuriating.  Just the musing of a 22 year old woman sorting out how she really feels about a guy she just might marry.  The thoughts are intimate, and honest, as she thought they would never be shared.  As I think ahead, there may come large transgressions.  Things may come to light.  Someone may end up letting some people down or failing. Maybe the largest lesson to learn here is that people make mistakes.  But people still, these people for certain, leave a legacy.  This legacy is mostly one of love and it has echoed down, all the way through me, and maybe someday farther than that.