Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Soul Cry - For Aunt P
For the longest time I wanted to be in denial about Aunt P and her "problem." As a kid I never knew she had one. Sure there were signs, but the signs didn't become visible in my eyes until my pre-teen years. There were there drinking glasses that had aluminum foil on the top with tiny holes that were punctured into it. On the inside of the glass, the bottom was covered in some kind of white residue. The first few times I saw this, I never questioned about such a site. I just figured Aunt P had something nasty to drink, perhaps some kind of milk, and it left its mark at the bottom. However, it still didn't explain the foil with the tiny holes.
So, I went on being a delusional kid, thinking everything was kosher with my family...with my aunt. Then more sightings. There were the old pill or any other kind of medicine bottles that took on a weird form. The bottles had a hole that was cut in on the side. From that hole, the outter shell of a plastic pen stuck out like a bow from a ship. Sometimes the top of the bottles weren't covered and other times, that damn foil with the tiny holes in it was placed firmly around the rim.
The more I came across them; under the bed, behind the bed or hidden in newspaper in the closet, I became curious and I had to ask. However, I didn't run off to my mother or grandmother the answer. Instead, while talking on the phone to my Jamaican/American "boyfriend" at the time, I asked him what did it all mean. I asked him about the white residue and I described to him what the glass and plastic bottle devices looked like. All he came up with was that it might be a homemade bong.
I was such a sheltered kid. I didn't even know what in the world a "bong" was. I just thought it was a word to describe a sound. I probably became agitated with his answer, since I didn't know what he was talking about. I don't remember much else about our conversation, just that he tipped-toed around the possibilty of my aunt being involved in something that was a bit deep for me. It was just too much for me to even phatom, that a lady that I loved to death and partially looked up to was into drugs.
So, I stayed in the land of the seriously diluted, thinking that the only reason why Aunt P disappeared for a few days without any word was because she was tired of grandma's nagging about her life and perhaps my mother trying to run her life. Even, a letter from Aunt P addressed to my grandmother that I found while in the process of helping my grandmother move, didn't phase me much. Even the fact that in the letter, my aunt was basically admitting to staying out late with her friends and smoking marijuana but not using anything more or whatever else my grandmother was alledgedly accussing her of.
Then there was the time when my mother was upset with me for having a pager at the age of 15. I didn't mean any harm by owning one. I didn't mean any harm by owning one. I just figured that since I was working and could afford one and the upkeep for the bill that I needed something to say "it is mine," because I worked hard for it. My mother didn't see it in that light. She automatically equated owning a pager at 15, legit job or no legit job, to come out to being associated with drugs.
"Maybe she's dealing drugs. I don't know," I remember her saying into the phone to my grandmother.
Later that evening, as my parents and I headed to a lint service at church, my mother grumbled all the way. I don't remember her exact words, but I remember it went something like this,
"My child out here at 15 with a pager. My sister strung out on drugs. So she trying to turn into her aunt?"That was my first real verbal confirmation that something wasn't right with Aunt P and whatever I had done, my mother saw it as a reflection of my aunt.
It wouldn't be until a few years later that I actually heard my aunt admit to me that something was going on with her, but it was so watered down. I don't remember the date. I just remember I was 18 or 19. Just had not longed returned home to stay after living in New Jersey for a year. We were standing in the kitchen in the house in Alexandria, VA. The whole family was there. We were having dinner... maybe the usual seafood Friday dinner with grandma. I noticed how clear my aunt's face looked and I paid her a compliment. Her response,
"Thank you. It's clear because I stopped using drugs."It was then my grandmother gave a nervous look. Then my aunt said,
"What? She knew. "Then everyone went on about their business like nothing took place.
I never knew and still don't know all of the drugs that my aunt has tried. I just know marijuana is one.
Fast forward to 1999 when my cousin is born. For a while, motherhood for my aunt got off to a rocky start. Her disappearing acts had started up again, leaving all of furious because she would "dump" her son on us and "forget" to mention when she would be back to pick him up. Sometimes it wuld be for one or two days. Once it was for a week.
Somehow, perhaps through the power of prayer, my aunt managed to pull herself together and became the mother that my cousin needs, especially after my grandmother's husband's stroke. The whole family had to pitch in some kind of a way to help out and we still are, but a cloud seems to hover around.
Just when everyone is relaxed with the idea that Aunt P is dependable, her disappering acts have started again. It was just a couple of weekends ago when and her half of a brain functioning fiance - (no, seriously, due to a car accident several years ago, that almost took his life, he has some brain damage) - ran off and left my grandmother with my cousin. They didn't return until 2 am that Sunday into Monday morning.
Now, here it is in the middle of the week and they pulled the same stunt. What odd is the fact that my aunt lefther car at my grandmother's house and they left out her house on foot in the middle of the night. If you talk to my grandmother, she'll say that she doesn't let Aunt P stress her out, but it's a cover. My grandmother is up in age and her nerves are bad. She gets nervous at the slightest thing. She's nervous about me leaving for New York in the morning. Two weekends ago, when she didn't know where Aunt P was then, she broke down over the phone and cried into my mother's ear.
This morning she tried to keep up a front. I went over to her house to pick up my cousin to take him to school. That's another thing, he knows when something is wrong. I saw the look on his face, but my grandmotehr tried to keep thigns normal for him. When he walked outside and saw his mother's car, he was even more confused. He asked about her and before I could come up with an answer my grandmother blurted out,
"She took the subway to work this morning."My cousin, being the inquisitive kid that he is, kept asking questions. Why did she take the subway? How did she get to the subway?
My grandmother had an answer for everything.
"The car is broke. It doesn't work. She caught the bus to the subway."No one knows where Aunt P is or when she will return. Right now, everyone has to be accomodating to make sure my cousin is taken care of. Today is my day off from work. I had plans to sleep a little late, finish my washing and pack for my trip. I also had errands to run later on this evening. Instead, I was jarred out of my sleep at 6 am and informed that I had to take my cousin to school. I'm also picking him up and he just may have to ride with me this evening as I make my rounds.
Part of me is furious at my aunt, but anytime a situation like this arises with her, I immediately think of a scene from A Raisin in the Sun.
There is a part where there son gambled th family's fortune away.. or he rather entrusted with a friend of his for some investments. Instead, his friend Willie ran off with the money. Beneatha Younger, the sister, started to curse her brother for throwing away the family's money. That's when the mother stepped in and said in so many words that even though Brother made a mistake, he has to learn from it and he still had to be a man... meaning.. let him have his dignity and that she should love him regardless. Then the mother asked a powerful question,
"Have you cried for your brother today?"It's like... dispite whatever grief "Brother" put the family through... you still have to grieve for ever spirit or demons he is fighting that put him in that position.
It's a situation like this.. where I want to be mad with my aunt, but I can't be. I just want to "cry" because she is battling with something that has been going for years. It's powerful. I see her trying, but at some point she eventually gives in.
I just wish she could fight a little harder, if not for herself... for her son.
Posted by KomplexPhemale ::
11:04 AM ::
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