My Aunt Carmen

My Aunt Carmen

When I was nine years old, my mother had to go back to Mississippi for a while to fight her ex-husband for back child support. Being as my father was not really equipped for taking care of a little girl, particularly one with very long, curly hair, my mother sought to find a good family member for me to stay with. Their first choice was my Godparents, Sid and Alice Sanchez. In retrospect, they were probably not the best choice for this need or perhaps even as Godparents. Don’t get me wrong; my uncle Sid was a wonderful, kind, and loving man. Even my own children thought he was absolutely wonderful and had grown quite close to him before his death in December 2015. They never met my Aunt Alice, who had died years prior. While my children and I were always close to Sid, I was never really that close to Alice. She did not get along too well with my mother and was not really suitable for taking care of young children anymore by the time I came along needing a long-term babysitter. I had a bruised face and gums as early as the first night at their home because I had run into something trying to find my way back to bed after going to the bathroom. They had turned off all the lights in the house and being as this was my first time in their home, I did not know where anything was and could not see where I was going.

Their second choice was my Aunt Carmen and Uncle Ray, who my mother said she probably should have chosen to be my Godparents. Given my experience at their home when I stayed with them for a month while my mom went back to Mississippi, and my subsequent interactions with both of them, I would have to agree. My Aunt Carmen and Uncle Ray took very good care of me. I slept in my own room on a Queen-sized bed that could easily have held four of me at the time. There was a T.V. and VCR in the room and it just so happened that my first night there, the movie Nadia was going to be on. I loved that movie. I loved gymnastics. My Aunt Carmen recorded the movie just in case I fell asleep. For years I had my very own copy of the movie that I could watch as often as I wanted.

My Aunt Carmen made it a point to ask me what kinds of things I liked to eat and she often prepared my favorites for me. Every morning she would make a delicious breakfast for me. Sometimes it was something like bacon and eggs or pancakes, and other times it was Chocolate Malt-o-Meal with marshmallows. She also kept the freezer well stocked with ice cream, probably as much for Uncle Ray as for me.

She made clothes for all of my Cabbage Patch Kids and little pillows for my dolls’ bunk beds.

There was a makeshift swing in their yard made of rope and what looked like the end of a mop that I loved to swing on every day. There was also a makeshift stage made out of plywood that I could jump off of for greater lift.

Two children my age, a girl and a boy, lived next door. I quickly made friends with them and found myself playing with them just about every day. Aunt Carmen took all three of us to plays, puppet shows, Sea World and the San Diego Zoo. My Uncle Ray was around when he was able to be, but he had to work, so he was not usually with us on these excursions. I often would play next door at my new friends’ house and spent quite a bit of time in the girls’ room playing with dolls and her toys. Unfortunately, I ended up getting sick and because I was afraid I was going to be sent to my grandma’s house, I tried to pretend like everything was fine when it wasn’t. I guess their mom could sense that I wasn’t feeling well and told my Aunt Carmen, who asked why I hadn’t told her that I wasn’t feeling well. She assured me that she wasn’t going to send me to my grandma’s and she took care of me herself and nursed me back to health.

I was even able to spend time with some of my cousins and grow closer to my cousin Nicole as a result. We went to the beach and I had a sleep-over afterward. This was also the first time I ate a sandwich with alfalfa sprouts in it (not exactly a delicacy to a nine-year-old).

Uncle Ray died several years before my Aunt Carmen, who lived to just past her 98^th birthday this past June. I remember him as being kind, funny, and smiling – just as I remember my Aunt Carmen. The month that I spent with them while my mom was away in Mississippi was one of the best months of my entire life. They treated me with absolute kindness and the greatest level of hospitality and I have long held this time with them, and with my other family in the San Diego area, as a very fond memory.

So, when I ended up missing my Aunt Carmen’s service yesterday because I relied on someone else to take me to the service and they were over an hour late picking us up and did not get us there on time, I was deeply upset. With each passing minute, I knew that we would not make it, and when I told my daughter that we were not going to make it on time, I got jumped by the mother of the person who was going to be driving us because apparently I am not entitled to be upset about missing one of the most important funeral services. I wasn’t even talking to her. I was talking to my daughter. Furthermore, I have every right to be upset about her son being over an hour late to pick us up for a two hour drive to a funeral service I never made it to. Why should I be grateful for missing my Aunt Carmen’s service? In retrospect, I wish I had driven myself or found some other way of getting there, and had I known who was taking us (or who all was going on this bus/van), I would have. I guess that’s a question I should have asked. I have learned my lesson. I will ask questions. I will drive myself if necessary, even if it does end up making me anxious the entire time. I will not travel with people with a notoriety for being late to everything. And I will most certainly avoid this super extra woman as much as possible because I am quite frankly pissed, offended, and not ready to forgive any time within the next 98 years.

I love you Aunt Carmen. I am sorry I missed your service. I wish I could have been there and I am massively upset that I wasn’t. I had hoped to tell you goodbye one more time. Fortunately, I got to say goodbye while you were still alive and asked you to say hello to my mother when you get to heaven. Say hello to Uncle Ray too.