I was standing around early this morning in my paternal grandmother's front yard, looking around at the family already gathered at such an early hour.. waiting for new information.. any information about what had occurred in the middle of the night. That is when my cousin Lacey declared to me, "This is the part of the process that I hate the most." Yes, I agreed. It's the waiting around for details about what exactly has caused a loved one's death that seems to make time slow down to a standstill. My family has been through this process many times, but it never gets any easier. It just becomes more familiar. It's the curse of a large family. The larger the family, the more loved ones you will lose. However, the more loved ones you will have around you to help you cope.
I am very close to the paternal side of my family. Most especially my aunts. I have two blood aunts, Connie and Bonnie, who I've always been extremely close to, and I feel the same type bond with most of my uncle's wives as if they were my own blood. My Aunt Rosemary for example... though she has been divorced from my uncle for atleast 15 years I still love her as much as I always have.
Shortly after I graduated High School my Aunt Bonnie had a long struggle with cancer and was expected to die. Doctors were pretty convinced that there was in fact no way she could possibly live through it. That entire period was heartbreaking. She proved the Doctors wrong though. She beat it. She hadn't died, but her marriage did and she ended up moving in permanently with my Grandmother. My Aunt Connie was already living there and had for a number of years. I stayed with them a lot. I was in fact asleep in the room with my Aunt Connie the morning when relatives shook me awake to tell us that my cousin Monica had died. Monica, was also my best friend. It was Aunt Connie that helped me in my first hour of trying to come to grips with what I'd just been told, and then afterwards when I struggled with the "what ifs". It was she and my grandmother that assured me that Monica would have died had she been sitting in the house, or out in her car. That if it's your time.. it's your time. These are words I still hear in both their voices, everytime a loved one dies.
When I was young Aunt Connie was married to a millionaire, who years later I came to understand had beaten her often. When you get older you are able to process things you have seen or overheard at an earlier time. The bruises... the brothers threatening to "go hurt him".. none of that had made sense to me when I was young. Nor did I fully understand why my Aunt Connie was always showing up to all my dance competitions or recitals. Why she was always the one bringing me the outfits. When I was in my teens I realized that all the dance lessons I took, all the travel expenses to competitions, all the expensive costumes.. couldn't have possibly been covered entirely by my parents. At the time my parents had been struggling to raise three kids and get their careers going. No one ever verified that for me.. but years later I hugged Aunt Connie out of the blue and said "Thank you". She asked "For what baby?" and I said I realize it was you that paid for my dance training."I was happy to do it" she said. I made her proud. I realized she'd done that for me, but no other niece. Dance had helped mold me into who I became. Without her.. who knows how I'd be today.
I've always adored my Aunts. Connie, despite her sometimes heavy drinking was always someone you could rely on in a time of need. I often worried about her though. Not just from the drinking, but because she couldn't drive well. I lost count over the years of how many cars she wrecked. My last count was 19. Once she had even broken her back and had spent over a year in recovery. Bonnie.. is always there if you need her as well. Even though she is currently suffering chronic pain she'd do all she could to help someone. Years after having beaten cancer, the aftermath hit. The chemo that saved her had taken a massive toil on her body. Now she is suffering from a condition that causes constant pain. Doctors have not yet been able to help. I spent my early twenties worrying I was going to lose one aunt to cancer, and the other from herself.
Earlier this year my grandmother had a stroke and my stepsister was the one that called to inform me. When I got to the hospital I asked all my blood family members why they hadn't called. I knew full well that no one ever likes to make those type calls. I left the hospital that night having exchanged cellphone numbers with practically my entire paternal family. I promptly then gave them all a special ringtone as most of them (including my stepsister) never really call me unless something is wrong. The dozen or so that call me often, already had their own ringtones.
Three minutes after eight this morning I heard that dreaded ringtone go off and I sit bolt upright in the bed I'd just climbed into. I had not been able to sleep and was just about to attempt it. I looked at my cellphone and saw it was my stepsister calling. Right away I knew it was going to be bad news because of the early hour and the fact she never calls unless something is wrong. I instantly thought Oh God it's my Dad, then Oh no it's my Grandmother. Maybe it's her kids I thought as I was flipping open the phone to answer the call. As I said hello she said "Krystle... It's Aunt Connie" and my heart dropped. I was not expecting that one at all. My first thought was she had had another wreck... but then she followed it with "She was killed this morning."
The words used to give me comfort in times like these and the voice I hear them in have long been hers. "You know she loved you and she knew you loved her too. She's in a better place now."
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