A couple months ago, I talked about my Aunt Cassandra who was arrested for being a drug mule and went to jail, leaving her two children in the care of our family. It was an unexpected twist of events, and thankfully, it lasted for only two weeks. Somewhere a judge took pity on my aunt and released her from a lifetime of wearing an unflattering orange jumpsuit, on the promise that she would never transport drugs from one cartel to the next. And so far, Cassandra was true to her word. Unfortunately, there was another judge, who reopened her case, and after a thorough review, decided she wasn’t punished enough. She has a court date on the 15th to decide if whether or not she will spend this Christmas and the next few with her family and children or with another gay-for-the-stay jail mate.
And while my family waits for the outcome of my aunt’s trial, we’re also waiting for the outcome of my mother’s cousin’s failing health. Having been a heavy alcoholic and heavy smoker all his life, Tio Chuy was now temporarily situated at the University Medical Center, because of a hole in his intestine and his kidneys and liver giving out on him. I’ll admit, I wasn’t too shocked that Tio Chuy’s abusive lifestyle landed him in the hospital, but what did shock me was that everyone around me all said the same thing: “It came as a surprise.” God, was I the only one that read the Surgeon General’s warning or the caution label posted on every cigarette packet and alcohol bottle in America? And even though it was heart-wrenching to see him laid up on the hospital bed, tubes coming out of every orifice, it was even more gut-wrenching to see a picture of him laying next to me at our family’s Thanksgiving Dinner.
That’s right. The Tellez clan has had their Thanksgiving Dinner. One my Tio Chuy’s last dying request was that he go hunting one last time with my grandfather and my other uncles. Since no one in my family can really take time off until Thanksgiving week, that’s when they’re going, prompting my family to bump our annual dinner, 19 days prior. And if it wasn’t bad enough sitting next to a picture of a half-dead relative, I also had to sit across from my great-aunt Leti, who was now a card-carrying member of the amputee club.
A couple weeks back, my great aunt Leti , who is a diabetic, cut herself on her leg and didn’t really give it a second thought as she cleaned her wound. Unfortunately, it was that second thought that could have saved her limb. And now, her leg stub was staring at me all through dinner. Between the photograph and the leg, I couldn’t decide which was worse and so I ate very little. There was just too much on my mind, including my own problems.
The other day, my mother decided to clean my room. She called me, with the odd request, while I was at work, and though I tried to discourage her from entering my private quarters, she insisted. I was helpless. Even if I left work at that exact moment in time, I would never be able to stop her from finding what she found. Condoms. Handcuffs. Chocolate body paint. Half-empty bottles of alcohol. I could go on, but that’s not the point. The point is, discovering these very items that were well-hidden within my room, led my mother to have a full-heart attack. She was outraged at what she found, and I was outraged to discover, she not only went through all my personal stuff, she rearranged my entire room and left my room a bigger mess than it already was. And she refused to clean the mess. My dad gave me until the end of the week to clean up everything or else, he threatened to throw away and burn all my clothes. Both my parents had undoubtedly turned certifiably insane. According to my mother, I had brought “evil” into the house and she even threatened to call the cops on me for bringing “illegal substance onto her private property.” I knew they couldn’t do anything, so I told her to call them, which only enraged her more.
So now, I have to move. I cant stay an a house that’s so inhibited and controlling. My only question is…how do I start?
And while my family waits for the outcome of my aunt’s trial, we’re also waiting for the outcome of my mother’s cousin’s failing health. Having been a heavy alcoholic and heavy smoker all his life, Tio Chuy was now temporarily situated at the University Medical Center, because of a hole in his intestine and his kidneys and liver giving out on him. I’ll admit, I wasn’t too shocked that Tio Chuy’s abusive lifestyle landed him in the hospital, but what did shock me was that everyone around me all said the same thing: “It came as a surprise.” God, was I the only one that read the Surgeon General’s warning or the caution label posted on every cigarette packet and alcohol bottle in America? And even though it was heart-wrenching to see him laid up on the hospital bed, tubes coming out of every orifice, it was even more gut-wrenching to see a picture of him laying next to me at our family’s Thanksgiving Dinner.
That’s right. The Tellez clan has had their Thanksgiving Dinner. One my Tio Chuy’s last dying request was that he go hunting one last time with my grandfather and my other uncles. Since no one in my family can really take time off until Thanksgiving week, that’s when they’re going, prompting my family to bump our annual dinner, 19 days prior. And if it wasn’t bad enough sitting next to a picture of a half-dead relative, I also had to sit across from my great-aunt Leti, who was now a card-carrying member of the amputee club.
A couple weeks back, my great aunt Leti , who is a diabetic, cut herself on her leg and didn’t really give it a second thought as she cleaned her wound. Unfortunately, it was that second thought that could have saved her limb. And now, her leg stub was staring at me all through dinner. Between the photograph and the leg, I couldn’t decide which was worse and so I ate very little. There was just too much on my mind, including my own problems.
The other day, my mother decided to clean my room. She called me, with the odd request, while I was at work, and though I tried to discourage her from entering my private quarters, she insisted. I was helpless. Even if I left work at that exact moment in time, I would never be able to stop her from finding what she found. Condoms. Handcuffs. Chocolate body paint. Half-empty bottles of alcohol. I could go on, but that’s not the point. The point is, discovering these very items that were well-hidden within my room, led my mother to have a full-heart attack. She was outraged at what she found, and I was outraged to discover, she not only went through all my personal stuff, she rearranged my entire room and left my room a bigger mess than it already was. And she refused to clean the mess. My dad gave me until the end of the week to clean up everything or else, he threatened to throw away and burn all my clothes. Both my parents had undoubtedly turned certifiably insane. According to my mother, I had brought “evil” into the house and she even threatened to call the cops on me for bringing “illegal substance onto her private property.” I knew they couldn’t do anything, so I told her to call them, which only enraged her more.
So now, I have to move. I cant stay an a house that’s so inhibited and controlling. My only question is…how do I start?
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