The Aunt B Story

The other day, I blogged that my Aunt B had died. I also mentioned that there were some family issues with that part of the family. I’d like to tell the story…

My father is the youngest of 8 kids. My Aunt B was considerably older. In fact, Aunt B has kids that are not all that much younger than my Dad. Aunt B’s oldest daughter has a son that is a mere 2 years younger than me. Yep, I have a first cousin that is a grandmother!!!

Anyway, Aunt B was married to Uncle Bob. Uncle Bob was a huge man. He was a steel worker at the USS Homestead Works, back in the steel heyday. He was what we call a “Mill Hunkie.” Aunt B & Uncle Bob had four children… all girls. He wanted a son more than anything in life. He showered my brother & I with significant attention. He made “the girls” wait on us hand & foot. He was what would be called abusive today to them in other ways (not sexually or beating them or anything like that, but was always punishing them harshly, and telling them they were worthless girls). As a matter of fact, when the youngest, my cousin R was born, Aunt B cried in the hospital, saying that she couldn’t bring home another daughter.

My mother and father were parental figures to the girls, and supported them, comforted them, helped them… as their parents didn’t.

This is the family dynamic which provides the setting for the rest of the story.

When I was young, I can’t remember exactly how old (I would guess somewhere between 5-9). I remember my parents getting a frantic phone call. I remember jumping in the car & flying over to Aunt B & Uncle Bob’s place. My brother & I were not told what was going on. I remember standing at the foot of the steps, at the landing of their house, looking up & seeing my Aunt standing there crying… wailing… My brother & I were shuffled out of the house and taken to my Uncle on my mother’s side of the family to stay for a while. We were not told why… until we were older. All we were told was that Uncle Bob was dead…

Later, we found out what had happened.

My Uncle Bob had written a note then shot himself in the head in the kitchen.

My mother was the one who took the note, so that none of the family could see it, because of the contents. My Mom, took and disposed of the gun. My Mom cleaned the blood and bits of brain and scull off the kitchen floor.

Our relationship with “the girls” became close. Our relationship with Aunt B became more and more strained. She started drinking & eventually became an alcoholic. She hooked up with this guy Jim, himself an alcoholic. They neglected the girls. Eventually, we attempted an intervention with Aunt B (before such terms were main stream). Aunt B would not be swayed. She continued a bad path. Jim drove a wedge deeper between Aunt B and most especially my Father. I’m kinda surprised my Dad never actually killed him, or at least beat the shit out of him. All family gatherings now excluded Aunt B & Jim. On the rare occasion where they would be there, Jim knew better than to be in the same room with most of the family. The distance grew.

Eventually, as we all grew, the girls became adults with their own families. One girl in particular, K, was especially head strong. By this time I had learned, vaguely the events surrounding Uncle Bob’s death. Then one day… at a family gathering… K confronted my Mom in the kitchen of our house. She insisted that she wanted the gun and the note. She was not going to let my Mom out of her own kitchen until she agreed to hand them over. My Mom lied and said that she had destroyed them years ago. K was still insisting. My Mom knew that nothing good could come from giving her the note. She knew the contents. She knew what it would do to the girls. She was protecting them. But… K would not back down. She actually had my Mom in a corner now. This is when I walked in. I tell K to “back the fuck up.” I told her that if she didn’t back off right now, she better call her husband, so I can beat the shit out of him right now and get it out of the way, because I’m gonna be smacking her around any second. Nobody, I mean NOBODY messes with my Mom.

After this, K and her family pulled further away… R and her family pulled further away… S moved to Texas… but remained close. D was the only one of the girls where we maintained a close relationship.

Many years later, Aunt B got lung cancer. It was in remission for a long time, years. I don’t know exactly how long, but it seems like more than 10 years. The fractures of this part of the family never healed. My father visited Aunt B in the week before she died, but what transpired between them was privet. We didn’t attend the funeral. K, R& D were fighting over where Aunt B would be buried. Her wish was to be buried next to Jim. K & D wanted her buried next to Uncle Bob. I don’t know what R wanted, and S just wanted peace.

I did not want to be involved in all of this. My Mother did not want to be confronted with “the old issues.” She did not want to be confronted by K again about the gun & the note. Besides…. My Mom doesn’t have them anymore….

I do.