Illness and Death

This week has been unusual. It started with a forwarded email from a cousin. Her brother's wife died suddenly. I did not know her at all. It bought back memories of those cousins when I was small and still lived in California. Since we moved to Colorado, nearly all my ties to cousins, aunts, and uncles faded. Since I am not close to the cousin, I sent a card and fruit basket to the family.

That night, I got a voice mail from my brother who told me a favorite aunt, my mother's sister, was gravely ill with renal disease and her pancreas had stopped working. I called and talked with him about it and learned that she is very weak. I cried that night, thinking of how she had always been special to me. When I was small, she worked for Avon and would send us the biggest box of Christmas presents every year. We would joke that you could smell it coming a week before it arrived. Even if I did not like the smells of the perfume or body lotion she choose for me, I treasured the gifts she gave me. I felt loved by her. Later in life, she embraced me as I was, when my family grappled with the inner and outer changes. She loved it when I dyed my hair black, which my mother HATED more than any other color I dyed my hair. She accepted my homosexuality without batting an eye (that I could see). She embraced Clementine and congratulated us on our legal marriage the last time we saw her. I remember one particularly bad night before my sisters wedding. My brothers and parents were on the front lawn yelling and fighting. My sister was acting like nothing was happening and wanted me to look at her bride book. I did not know what to do and my aunt walked up to me, holding a scotch on the rocks. She said, "Hashbrown, you are the only sane one here. I think you should take care of them outside. I am going to bed." With that and a bat of her false eyelashes, she waltzed to the guest room and shut the door. I did not go out to stop the fight but smiled at my aunt's belief that I was the only sane one. I love my aunt and am so sad to think she may be gone soon.

Since the voicemail from my brother, I have been emailing my parents a lot and even called them. I have not called them since they stormed out of our house seven years ago when they found they could not stop us from marrying. It turns out that my aunt had a huge falling out with her two children two years ago and she has not talked to them since. Neither know she is dying. Her daughter and I email periodically and my mother decided she needed to tell my cousins that their mother was dying. It is weird and scary for me to be in contact with my parents so much again. They are being very nice. But that is their pattern. First they are nice. Then they get mean when I open up and trust them. I hate to be so mistrusting of people but really cannot risk my heart or those of my wife and child to their spiteful behaviour.

The decision whether to go to California when she passes looms over me. I feel I should go say good bye to my aunt, who despite her flaws which were many, was always kind to me and accepting of me. Going would mean being around my parents who are such a threat to me now as they are being nice. And should I take Hester with me? It would be her first flight. I would love to introduce her to my brother and his wife, my cousin, and the extended family that I do not know. I will decide when the moment comes.