THE WEEK I LOST MY LAUGH part 3

Current mood: sad


QUOTE OF THE DAY:
Perhaps I know best why it is man alone who laughs; he alone suffers so deeply that he had to invent laughter.
Friedrich Nietzsche



THE WEEK I LOST MY LAUGH part 1
THE WEEK I LOST MY LAUGH part 2



"I thought you were going to be late."

"Mother, yes we all know that I am not the most punctual person on this blue planet, but if it's something important, I'm NEVER late." Was my response.

"So where are we headed?"

"To your Tia's house to get the directions."

"OK, from there I'll drive, cool?"

"Si Mijo, that would be a good idea."

We get to my aunts house, and we get the directions. Which were vague and wrong, but I didn't know that at the time. Soon we were on our way. I drove there with the directions she gave us, and we ended up on the north side of Milwaukee. We drove around for about 30 minutes, trying to find the location, according to the directions we were given, which got us nowhere, except 1/4 tank lower on gas. Finally I thought, SCREW IT, we stopped at a gas station where I asked someone on how to get to the church. With clear and precise directions, we made it there in about 7 minutes. The service was just starting.

On a side note, it really amazes me, when a whole bunch of Mexicans get together, whether for a happy occasion or a sad occasion, they seem to act the exact same way. There were people drinking in front of and in the church. People were lounging out on the stairs like they were at a park. For some reason I find this a tad bit disrespectful. OK, that's the end of this side note.

We find a spot to sit near the back of the church. As I looked around I realized that I know almost nobody here. Then I saw something that floored me.

When I was a lot younger I had an aunt that would babysit for me, and it was cool because my cousin was the same age as me. So we always played together, ate together and watched TV together when ever I was there. I was treated like part of her family. Later, when my step-father got abusive, I could go there and feel safe for a little while. My Tia Luisa, always knew how to make the "monsters" go away. At least for a little while.

She had 5 kids (although I only knew 4).

She was my father's sister.

For the most part, my mom didn't really meet or hang out with my relatives on my fathers side. My Tia Luisa being one of the very very few exceptions. Well she passed away about 10 years ago, and that was pretty much the last time I saw the family.

Well at the church I saw the 3 sisters (my cousins) and asked my mother how they knew my godfather. She tells me that they are brother and sisters.

I tried to wrap my head around that concept. I look at my mom and ask her, "Mother, I have never met him have I?"

She says "Si mijo, at your Tia Luisa's funeral."

I'm supposed to remember meeting someone, at the funeral of my favorite aunt, where I was too busy holding and comforting my cousin, who was in turn holding and comforting me. I mean WHO wouldn't remember meeting a godfather, who up until this moment didn't even exist, when my aunt who was there for me, and treated me like her own child has just passed away. Knowing next time I needed to be with a friendly face when my own life was beating the shit out of me has just passed away, and I'm here to say good-bye. I can't believe I could be so damn insensitive about that. I must be some kind of monster.

Well after that bombshell, I started to become numb.

I was sitting in the pew, waiting for the service to begin, and it was a beautiful service. I learned a little about the man who passed away. And I wished I could have known him a little better.

After the service, I was introduced to his wife and children. Who apparently had heard of me. We exchanged hugs and condolences. I really had no idea what to else say. Here I was at a wake for a man I didn't know, hugging his family, and telling them "How sorry I am for their loss."

Than sadly this is the point the circus started.

I was then paraded around, by my mother, to meet cousins, uncles and aunts, like a damn show dog. She's bragging about all the things I've done (which in reality amounts to a drop of piss in the ocean blue, by the way). I was feeling so uncomfortable and dirty, I almost lost it.

Finally my mom says we should get going.

I breathe a tremendous sigh of relief.

I ask where and at what time is the funeral and I get the directions and the time for that. 11:00 A.M. but be there at 10:30 because the procession starts at 11.

OK, I get that.

I go and drop off my mother, get in my car and proceed to go to work.

I'm there only 2 hours because, guilt and grief have become too much. I feel bad for my cousins who have lost their brother. I feel bad that even though I never truly met him, his family, for some reason, knew who I was. I felt guilty for being part of my mother's "showcase." And mostly I wanted to see my wife, to tell her how much I love her and want her in my life.

I get home and lie down with my soul mate, best friend and partner in life and love. I tell her how much I love her, and I give her a kiss on her forehead.

That's the moment Miss Typhoid Season comes into that realm we call reality and says "What the hell are you doing home?"

I tell her, very simply that at this moment in time, I just needed to be with her.

She smiled.

Closed her eyes.

And started snoring in my face.

I smile at her.

I hold her close.

And proceed to the realm of the sandman myself.

The next morning I wake up, smoke a cigarette, shower, get dressed and head off to pick up my mother.

END OF PART 3

Currently listening : Rio By Duran Duran Release date: 03 July, 2001