Thinking of My Dad Today: Sibling Jealousy, and Joseph’s Dreams
Today I enjoyed the morning service at First Baptist Church again, and have to say that I’ve had a change of heart about many of the people involved in the ministry there. My initial impressions were awash with resentment at my situation, and the structures that create and perpetuate homelessness. I formed initial impressions largely colored by that (I’m only human, after all). However, I have since been blessed to form relationships with people there and hear inspiring pastoral messages rooted in the Bible, and also to get some good literature to take with me and read during the week, where the messages can take root after I reflect on them a bit.
Anyway, I’ve become friends with a guy I’ll call Bramford, who I respect, in part because he is a Vietnam veteran, and my mother had taught me to have empathy for these men, because they came back to a country expecting to be treated as heroes, but were instead betrayed by many Americans who’d bought into the Hollywood/pop culture ethos at the time, which called them baby killers and whatnot – totally opposite of the way we treated our returning soldiers from World Wars I and II, she had said. In fact, before she married my father, she had dated a very good looking young man named Brian who had served in Vietnam. When he returned from Vietnam, she had said, he had changed. She didn’t share all the details with me, but I think what really happened was that he did not propose to her as she’d expected he would, and subsequently broke her heart. Now, I suspect that the truth is that my uncle Eugene had actually warned him away from her, because he, my aunt Elaine, and my father’s brothers and sisters were hatching a plot to sell her and my father into modern-day slavery.
Anyway, this morning Bramford and I were chatting over our meal after the church service and I shared with him that my uncle had murdered my father. (Which uncle, you might say – ha ha.) At the moment, I was referring to my uncle Victor. Without wanting to enumerate all the sensationalized aspects of the story, I really wanted a shorthand way to tell him what had happened to my father. I said, “My father was killed by his brothers and sister, like Joseph in the Bible”.
I obviously hadn’t realized all this stuff until lately, but now that I realize that there is indeed nothing new under the sun, I can surmise that my father was probably my grandpa Frank’s favorite (I never met my Grandpa Frank), and his sister and brothers were probably jealous of that. While not completely analogous in every detail, I think the overarching story of Joseph and Pasquale, my father, are pretty similar:
Joseph and Pasquale were favored by their parents.
Joseph and Pasquale had siblings that were jealous of them.
Joseph and Pasquale unwisely trusted their siblings, who meant to do them harm.
Joseph and Pasquale were both sold into slavery by their siblings.
Joseph and Pasquale were targeted for murder by their siblings.
I don’t know all of the details, but connecting the dots, this likely seems to be the case.
mariachicat 