Wednesday, December 2, 2009
To preface, I put "break" in quotes because I got little to no sleep, and still had a lot of work to do. It was interesting, to say the least. I spent it with the extended family on my mother's side, in a cottage at the Outer Banks. I'm gonna put this pretty bluntly: They are all a cross between redneck and hippie, and they like to drink. ALOT. I mean, there was an entire table devoted to liquor. This is aggravating for me, being someone who was against drinking even before I grew to better know God. After Thanksgiving dinner, one of my distant uncles shouted something along the lines of "Time for the good stuff!" and proceeded to unveil, rather theatrically, a large pickle jar with "666" written on the side filled with homemade strawberry moonshine. I had to laugh at this. Overall, it was strange for me. The last time I hung out with them all was last October, before I grew in my faith, and all the same stuff was going down, pretty much. Almost everyone was drunk, it was loud, I heard stories of family on drugs and in prison, as well as in custody battles, and I jammed with my uncles on a few songs, including a few my uncle wrote, which sang about anything from his grandmother working in a brothel to his affection for breasts and alcohol. He even had one dedicated to the family, called "I'll never smoke weed with the Roughtons again." The same stuff happened, but it all felt different. Instead of it being like it was before, after I had grown up around it and gotten used to it, I was able to really grasp how sad it was. At one point, around 3 AM, I left the room in the middle of my uncles having a racist rant, only to hear "Of course he leaves when we start talking bad about the n*****s." It was a depressing experience for me in a way. Men and women in and above their 60's drinking like college kids, the stories, the loud music. It all seemed so superficial. I loved seeing the family, don't get me wrong. I just hated seeing how bad off they were. It hurts because I want to help them. I don't like to see people I care about destroying themselves. I know God has put this on my heart for a reason, and He wants me to reach them, and I want to reach them as well. I left and came back to Wilmington early. It became too much. I hope I will be able to reach and help them somehow in the future, but it was all too much at the time. Didn't get to see the family on my dad's side, save for a few minutes of visiting on my way out of town. Hopefully I'll get to see more of everyone around Christmas. And, of course, that rest will be headed my way soon.