Just Like Me

Many of you don't know that my parents are divorced. Or that my mom got remarried after I graduated from high school. Or that the man she married had adopted an (PC African American but really we all just say) black girl with his first wife.

My step (really we don't use that word 'step') sister now has three boys with her husband, and I of course have Jakob and Josh. Jamie has an almost nine-year-old named Jamyl, a five-year-old named Jaylen, and a three-year-old named Jamyson (who we all just call JD).

I know that questions are going to come up as to why Jamie and her boys look different than us, and I am prepared to answer those questions as they come.

But it warms my heart to know that, for now, Jakob doesn't see that difference. ANd when he does, I know it won't change anything.

Yesterday, Jakob found an old picture of Jamyl when he was about 5. He looked at it for awhile, and turned it around and said, "Who is this?" I answered him, even though I think he knew who it was.

"That's Jamyl"

"Oh", he said. "He's brown."

This made me pause, look up at him and think about what my response should be.

In the silence, Jakob turned the picture around, held it up to his chest so that I could see Jamyl and him at one time.

His next sentence told me I didn't need to respond at all:

"Just like me."