The end of my junior year of high school beginning my senior year was marked with devastation. I grew up not having a maternal grandmother because mine passed way before I was born. In fact my grandfather raised and cared for five kids after his wife passed away when my mother was only eight or nine years old. My dad lost his father while he was young too and his mother, my paternal grandmother was born to slaves and spent the early part of her years on a sharecropping farm. I remember sitting down with her, as earlier as five, and listening to her story. As I aged she would get more detailed with her accounts and would show her scars. She loved to talk and I loved to listen.
My grandfather, however, was the one I spent most of my time with. He practically raised me and I valued his strength, zest for life and love. He was the one who told me that I could do anything I wanted and reinforced how important it was for me to take advantage of what was wrought and fought for not only during the civil rights movement but from many more movements prior to that. He instilled education in me from as earlier as my mothers womb. So when he passed away at the end of junior year it was a shock to my system. His loss was soooo great that to this day I still have not cried I can't. Anywho six months after his death, right before my senior year my father passed. I cried for him immensely. Because he was from Arkansas and the family had a plot down there for him. His body was shipped there for buriel. I coulldn't make the trip and that really tore me up. Needless to say my life changed. My plans for college were put on hold indefinetly, I didn't have the strength. All the scholarships I had gained for my academic achievements I let go.
I took some time off and had kids. I was working but it got to the point where I wanted more. I remember asking myself, one day, if I had to raise my kids on my own would I be able to without welfare or other support. With only a high school education not much creativity I couldn't answer that question positively. I had an aunt who worked in the accounting dept of an insurance company. She was the file clerk. She made good money and had great benefits. I knew I couldn't do what she did because I needed more responsibility. She told me about how she used to have aspirations to be an accountant. But at the time the field was barely open to black men and as a beautiful black woman she was shut down soooo often that she gave up. She decided to be a file clerk and left it at that. While all the white accountants did what she wanted to and could do she was stuck in the background taking their papers and putting them away as instructed. She did have major accomplishments in her career, she completely ovehauled the filing system and had many impacts on the firms productivity. They rewarded her but their was still only so far she was allowed to go even with her accomplishments.
Her story saddened me 1 because I had no idea that she wanted to be an accountant and that she hid that from me for so many years. 2 because this was my aunt and she couldn't succeed in the field that I wanted to enter. She now became the encouraging force in my life. She reminded me of what my grandfather told me all these years. How I shouldn't be saddened for her plot in life because she chose to accept it. She paved a way for me she opened the door. At least she was admitted into the dept. Her small success could be my greatest lift. She told me that no longer should I think of what doors I can open for the next generationI but what doors I can open and walk through for myself and ultimately my girls. I started school. Child care was a problem. My other aunt was a director at a child care center but I really didn't want my kids in public child care they had always been in private care. But because of my working schedule and school schedule it was getting expensive paying two babysitters. My aunt, the file clerk, retired early from her job. My grandfathers loss had a devastating effect on her too. She decided to care for my kids. After a year, though she fell ill.
My heart broke. Her husband began to care for the girls while she went back and forth to the hospital. She knew that she was leaving me and was greatly concerned about how it would affect me. I remember the day before she passed away I went to her house to clean her up and do her hair, massage her and just be near her. By now my girls were with my mom. I'll never forget how she kept looking at me and touching my face. She told me that I was more than special and that whatever happened I had to promise to finish school no matter what. I had to do what she couldn't do - be strong and not give up or give in. I told her I wouldn't. I wound up staying with her that whole day. I used to tease her because she was petite like me and very beautiful. I used to tell her when I grew up we were going to hang out because I was closest to her than any of my other aunts. I reminded her that day that we still needed to go to the club together. She smiled, touched my face and just kept looking in my eyes. Almost as if she was seeing my soul. She was never one to say goodbye or I love you. That night she said both to me. I hugged her wiped the tears from her eyes and told her I loved her too but I'm not saying goodbye. Though that should have been a major red flag I remember leaving wondering if the medication she was on was messing up her head. The next day my mother, who always called me at work to let me know what was going on, hadn't called. When I called her she gave me some excuse that the girls were about to nap and she had to go. So I let her go without hesitation. When I went to get the girls my sister told me she was going to keep them because I had to take mom to the hospital to see our aunt. On our way my mom had me pick up one of my other aunts and said that everyone else would meet us at the hospital. They all kept looking at me really weird. It was creepin me out so I asked them to stop looking at me. Right before we went through the doors of the hospital they told me my aunt passed away in her sleep last night and we were there to claim her body. I didn't say anything. I remember walking on air all the way to where they had her body. A worker pulled out what appeared to be a drawer and there was my lovely aunt laying there peacefully. I touched her, kissed her and said goodbye. I was put in charge of almost everything with her burial. I later learned that before my aunt died she requested this. She thought that it would help me mature and handle her death appropriately. I did. I went back to school and completed my degree.
