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Family seems to have been important to me, through the majority of my lives (save for one). Something that played a major part in who I was and what i did. and sometimes I miss them so badly. I’ve been missing some of them lately. Thinking of their faces and their voices.
How my mother, in Seyruun , would catch me running around the palace in my little white dress, her old outfit’s shoulder pads weighing my shoulders down and jangling as I pretended to be a powerful sorceress, stopping bad guys and annoying my friends. My father would get laugh,a bit exasperated , and direct me to my next study. My mother would stop him, and place a hand on my head, causing my circlet to slip out of place. She would lean down, and conspiratorially whisper that she would distract my teacher, and teach me something actually useful, in the space outside the city limits we would then practice different sorts of magic . I think of How she could always make me laugh or smile, with a carefully placed joke or trick. I can still remember the loving smiles she and my father shared, and the way they would sneak out of parties to be alone, leaving one of my cousins or uncles to attend the guests . I still vividly remember the day she died, murdered before my eyes by an assassin meant to kill me. She inspired me to become Naga the Serpent. To carve my own path
Or how when I met Greg, my second love as a polyamorous space rock. He helped me understand the concept of family. And of a motherhood. And my Pearl, who was the closest, most important woman in my life, who I loved deeply. I loved them both, in different ways. And in the end I gave my form for family. So I may make a difference. Not as rebellion leader, not as Pink Diamond. But as Rose Quartz, mother .
I think of my life as Anna Korsokova. Of the times I brought my policeman boyfriend to dinner (I was one myself, at this point), only for my great big tower of a father to laugh, pat him on the back and vaguely allude to his work as a ‘legitimate Russian businessman’ all throughout dinner, carefully eyeing the pale young man to judge his reaction. His love of the anti-joke. He would say his religion was ‘capitalism’.The way he would rib me for preferring Japanese cigarettes. How he would try to get me to own a gun despite my protests that I was a cop, and it was illegal in the country I immigrated to. (I’m not sure but I think I may have acquiesced it it eventually? Maybe.. I don’t remember ) How he would call me his princess, only for me to blush and tell him not to call me that. It’d ruin my image. How he would call my digimon partner “cyber horse” .
I think of my mother , a quiet woman, the polar opposite of her husband. Full of small smiles and pleasant quips. Except when father’s business was in the table. Her tone wouldn’t change all that much, but I remember one time when she said, in her soft voice , something along the lines of “if so and so stiffs us on a shipment one more time, I’ll make sure the only thing he receives is two in the skull.” Parents and child on opposing sides of the law, somehow united through love.I even think of growing up on Beforus. Raised by the Empress. She terrified me, I was scared of becoming her. Of following in her footsteps. But even then I think of the way she tried to teach me the skills of leadership with an unrelenting smile. Those late swimming sessions, hair billowing through the deep ocean currents as we silently swam deeper.
And I guess when I get down to it, this is just a memory post. Reflecting on things. Family. I get nostalgic sometimes. Wishing I could see them again.
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