there is nothing quite like the death of a known person to bring you down to earth and to question yourself and your own mortality.
my great aunt betty died last monday, they found her four days later, dead on the toilet.
i don't know about you, but thats not the way i want to go out.
i don't really recall much about her, so i find it hard to find tears for anyone but myself, because i know that, yes, i will die someday, but i don't know when. selfish?
yes.
i recall she smoked a lot, because when visiting as a child i recall strong coughing, and the smell of tobacco. her apartment was small, and she gambled a lot. (so mum tells me now). she also left behind her five children, no longer children now of course. of the five known children, she only raised one. the others, either at birth or later on in their childhood, were adopted out. all had deep trouble coming to terms with being unwanted. my mum told me before being adopted out, or being put into shelters, the eldest two, mick and kris, lived with her and her 6 siblings for a while. i can think of nothing worse, than being put into a childrens home, having known your own family.
of the three who were adopted out, one is a lawyer, who wanted nothing to do with betty and never met her.
the second a police officer, and met betty only after his adoptive parents died.
the third was a junkie, and would constantly harass betty and steal her things, and even tried to burn her apartment down, once.
mum said betty spoke to her once about how her first husband would beat her, and how they moved every few months to keep the debt collectors at bay. she couldn't even afford the gas for heating or water, because in her time you had to put a coin into a machine to light the pilot light for the gas system.
i can't help but wonder, how different her life may have been if she lived in this era as a young women? contraceptives for one! or was it just that she was attracted to the abusive sort of men? so really, perhaps nothing would have been different.
all i kow is it reminds me to not get too caught up in the cycles of depression, because she died alone, refusing to let anyone get close. and not one member of the family has a good memory for her, other than that spurred by pity.
my great aunt betty died last monday, they found her four days later, dead on the toilet.
i don't know about you, but thats not the way i want to go out.
i don't really recall much about her, so i find it hard to find tears for anyone but myself, because i know that, yes, i will die someday, but i don't know when. selfish?
yes.
i recall she smoked a lot, because when visiting as a child i recall strong coughing, and the smell of tobacco. her apartment was small, and she gambled a lot. (so mum tells me now). she also left behind her five children, no longer children now of course. of the five known children, she only raised one. the others, either at birth or later on in their childhood, were adopted out. all had deep trouble coming to terms with being unwanted. my mum told me before being adopted out, or being put into shelters, the eldest two, mick and kris, lived with her and her 6 siblings for a while. i can think of nothing worse, than being put into a childrens home, having known your own family.
of the three who were adopted out, one is a lawyer, who wanted nothing to do with betty and never met her.
the second a police officer, and met betty only after his adoptive parents died.
the third was a junkie, and would constantly harass betty and steal her things, and even tried to burn her apartment down, once.
mum said betty spoke to her once about how her first husband would beat her, and how they moved every few months to keep the debt collectors at bay. she couldn't even afford the gas for heating or water, because in her time you had to put a coin into a machine to light the pilot light for the gas system.
i can't help but wonder, how different her life may have been if she lived in this era as a young women? contraceptives for one! or was it just that she was attracted to the abusive sort of men? so really, perhaps nothing would have been different.
all i kow is it reminds me to not get too caught up in the cycles of depression, because she died alone, refusing to let anyone get close. and not one member of the family has a good memory for her, other than that spurred by pity.
No comments:
Post a Comment