God it looks like Daniel, must be the clouds in my eyes…

Today Daniel, my brother, moved away!(MP3)

Daniel is 18 years old & I guess he needs to grow on his own. He says that it is time for him to develop his manhood.

If that is what he wants, then I can’t stop him. But I am dreading the moment when he is no longer in our room. I am going to miss him teaching me Karate in the basement. Him insisting “do that last sit-up! hurry up or do you want to stay a sissy all your life.” I’m going to miss the Disco music he used to play as he gets ready to go out dancing on Saturday nights.

I am going to miss the brawls we used to get into. You know all the typical stuff brothers are supposed to do.

He is going off to work with our brother-in-law in the paving business. They are going to travel thru out the U.S. laying brick pavers and making money. He says he wants to experience the freedom of the road.

But last night Daniel and my dad got into a very big argument. The biggest I can ever remember. Deep down inside I get the feeling that he’s leaving not of his own free will.

Daniel, my brother, you are older then me! Do you still feel pain of the scars that won’t heal…”

I am missing you already.

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Kung Fu Fighting

Black Belt karateManny was my older sister’s first husband. He used to be a God-fearing man and what I thought a good man was supposed to be.

He was a member of the SDA church, son of church committee members and an active youth group leader.

He used to be so nice! He would serenade my sister with her favorite Elvis song.
(MP3)

See, he looked, sang and danced exactly like Elvis. He even had that Elvis-the-pelvis action that drove the girls crazy.

He would sing a lullaby…
(MP3)

so my two-year old sister would fall asleep. He was even super nice to my brother and I. Every Tuesday night he would take us to see a Karate movie. I saw ‘Fist of Fury’, ‘The Chinese Connection’ and even ‘Enter the Dragon’. He would tell the usher that I was his son, so they would let me in. Strange though, I don’t recall any interaction with him and my seven-year old sister – I wonder why.

He really cared for us and everything was great – or so we thought.

My sister would always complain about Manny being too agressive, but we never saw it. That is until the other day. He got into another fight with my sister, this time while everyone was home. My parents ran upstairs to see what the banging was all about. He would not open the door, so my father charged into their apt and saw him holding my sister by a choke hold, with her neck high up against the wall. My father attacked him and they fought together – all the way down the stairs.

At the base of the stairs, the whole family was on top of him. My brother pounding at his back; my mother beating him with the broomstick over his head; me biting his ankles; and my two younger sisters screaming franticly. We all got him good – no one dares lay a hand on my sister!

Suddenly all he could do is to try to get away. He punched my dad, pushed my mother and brother away and kicked me across the hall into the wall. I lost conscienceness for a few seconds because when I came to, everybody was gathered over me – including him. I was gasping for air and could not breath.

You could see the rage bulging from his soft, blue eyes. All of a sudden a frown of sorrow struck his forehead when he realized what he had done. He stands up and bolts out the door into the dark of the night. That was the last time I saw him.

But it was also the first time that I realized that we are one as a family. No matter what the murky waters of the Bronx would throw our way, one thing was crystal clear – No one would stand between us. Our family is one.

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