Friday, November 20, 2009

Ever have a single moment in time alter both your present and your past?

I went to visit my Aunt at the hospital last night. Uncle Rui had to work late so that left just me and my mother.

...and not a cigarette in sight.

To stir the pot, it was bumper to bumper traffic on the Hutch and Cross County Parkways, so we sat. Making small talk while we tried to bridge the short gap of distance from Port Chester to Bronxville.

Always doing the verbal tap dance around discussing my marriage. As is our way.

We finally make it to the hospital and my mother is visibly nervous. I tell her that it's ok. That no one will be upset that she lost touch with them for the past 20+ years -- despite having had been really good friends with my aunt -- divorce does that to people.

Don't worry that you didn't bring me to visit anymore. It happens.

We get to the information desk and tell them her name. He says, "how do you pronounce that?"

...sigh... it's phonetic asshole. Sound it out. Wanna red star?

We get upstairs. My mother hangs back at the doorway while I walk in to see my Uncle G and my Aunt Z. He standing by her bed. Her head on his stomach while he rubs her back and she moans short-breathed bursting utterances of pain.

She's expectantly thin. Painfully frail. Weak. Unexpectedly yellow. Dehydrated.

They smile when they see me. "Tiniňa."

::pronounced Tee-Neen-Ya::

My father's side of the family always called me that. It means "Little Tina". I always loved when they called me that. Even after I towered over most of them (my uncles are mostly short fellas).

I say, "my mom is here."

And I turn to her. She's flushed and looks like she is about to walk on stage at Madison Square Garden. But she walks toward me.

Both my aunt and uncle's faces light up like a Christmas tree. Especially my aunt.

My mother - in true Portuguese fashion - kisses my uncle's cheek. Then my aunt's.

My uncle chatters a bit -- my mother apologizes for not having seen them in all these years. My uncle accepts her apology and tells her that it's ok and that she needn't worry about it.

Finally, the pain medication that my aunt was given shortly before we arrived starts to kick in and she starts to begin dozing.

As she shuts her eyes a bit, my uncle has a moment to come over and do some proper hellos. My mother and I are sitting in the chairs at the foot of my aunt's bed.

He bends down... though he is of quite short a stature... kisses my mother on the cheek and says he's missed her. As he stands again he runs his hand down her cheek and she smiles. Her eyes flashing a moment of embarrassment? Sorrow? Sadness? Something...

My aunt drifts in and out of the conversation, we talk about old times a bit and my favorite cousin M and his wife arrive.

Since their kids aren't allowed to visit yet (under aged), my uncle goes down to watch them while my cousin comes up.

My cousin. I've always adored him. He's a year or two my senior and we always got along like brother and sister. Always picking on each other.

His wife is cute as a button and just sweet. We chatted for a while and my aunt fell asleep so we took our leave.

We got in the car and started heading back to my mother's house. We, again, made small talk. Somehow got on the subject of how strict she was. I gave her a "for instance" of how she would never let me sleep over people's houses.

She says,

"I guess you're old enough for me to tell why."
My stomach sinks.

She proceeds to tell me that that we had spent the night at my Aunt Z and Uncle G's house on two occasions when I was a kid. On both occasions, my uncle left his wife's bed and came to my mother's bed, reached under her clothes and touched her.

And that's why she walked away from them.

..........

Hearing those words come out of my tiny little mother's mouth tore me in more ways than I can enumerate.

Immediately I felt like those scenes in movies where a person is ripped backwards through time.

I felt nauseous.

Disgusted.

I understood that what I saw in her eyes when he touched her that I recognized not to be right was pain/repulsion/disgust/hurt.

My thoughts started reeling:

How do these fucking monsters always continue on acting like nothing happened after violating a woman?

I idolized this man.

My poor mother had to turn away from her really good friend that she loved because of him.

I lost the connection with my father's side of the family that I could have as part of my life because of him.

He did it not once, but TWICE. When she sent him away the first time, he should've caught the hint. Instead he altered both mine and my mother's lives.

But he continued on. Business as usual.
"I never told anyone before."
And suddenly I'm snapped back to the present.

My mother the unaccepting and hurtful "Mormon" -- for the first time in longer than I could remember...

...was human.

My mother.

A woman.

...and hurt.

I held her hand the rest of the way home. Telling her how proud of her I was for walking away from that situation. I told her that she should never go over there again but that I think that she should call my aunt as much as she can. Because it would mean a lot to her.

We got to her driveway and I hugged her. I hugged her. I kissed her scarred cheek and told her that I loved her. And I realized I truly meant it.

And she left my car and went inside her perfect home and perfect family to eat her perfectly prepared dinner.

The second she was out of sight I began to cry.

The tears shed through calling Jess and telling him. The whole time repeating, "I don't know how to see my mother as human." How do I keep her at arm's length so her anti-gay rhetoric doesn't hurt me if she's human?

Then my cousin M calls on the other line. I collect my voice...
Miss me already?
He laughs.
It was so good to see you and your mom. I need you to promise me something.
Ummm....

He continues...
Promise me you will bring your mom to see my mom at home when she gets out of the hospital. She was so happy to see her. You have no idea. I don't know if you know but, mom's cancer is terminal. I know she would love it if she got to spend more time with your mom before the end."
I made the empty promise as my heart shattered all over the interior of my car and my eyes spilled what felt like acid down my cheeks.

As they are right now...

Thursday, November 19, 2009

There is no greater thief than Cancer.



That's my Aunt Z at my house for my 30th birthday (nearly 7 years ago).

Though. She doesn't look like that anymore. She's lost a ton of weight. Not on the Atkins diet but the Cancer diet.

She's riddled with it. She has been for some time now.

Though she is fighting hard against it.

The doctor had already thrown his hands up on her some months ago. Yet, there she was, continuining on. Fighting the good fight.

She just got back from a trip to Portugal and apparently her body didn't enjoy the trip. She's in the hospital and has been for the past week.

My father's side of the family is taking quite a beating when it comes to illnesses and deaths. Uncle Paul passed earlier this year, as you may remember.

There are only a few members of my father's side of the family that I have any real attachment to. I count about 13 of them. Aunt Z is one them. Two of which have passed away at far too young an age.

So, Uncle Rui (her brother in law), me and (gasp) my mother (who used to be close to her when my parents were still married) are heading up to the Bronx tonight to see her.

My mother hasn't seen her since I was a kid.

She's nervous about going. She said, "I'd feel better if I went with you."

Imagine. Me being my mother's ally.

Anyway, if you're the praying kind, please consider my Aunt Z. Pray for a miracle. Pray for painlessness.

If you're like me and you're not the praying kind -- please send your good vibes and positivity this way.

Thx.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Wordless Wednesday

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Women really get the shaft, don't we?

Oh shut up! You know what I mean!

Seriously though... we do.

I was at the grocery store last night and was standing in line looking at the usual rag magazines with their usual sensationalism then I ran across the National Enquirer.


You probably can't see that picture but the two main stories are:

ANGELINA COLLAPSES FROM BEING UNDERWEIGHT!


Then the story directly next to it is:

MARIAH PACKS ON 42 POUNDS!


So apparently Angelina is barely 100 lbs. and Mariah is 177 lbs.

WTF? Really? One they say is too thin (admittedly she does look sickly), the other is too fat.

The idea of what is acceptable and what is not is really infuriating to me. As someone who has been battling her weight since 1993, I hate that there is this idea of what looks good and what doesn't.

Granted, I too fall into the "wanting to lose weight" category... I've lost about 35 lbs. so far and want to lose at least 20 more. But, believe me when I tell you it's NOT because Hollywood or the Flavor of the Week is a certain weight.

It's because I don't feel good at this weight. Jess claims to love me at this weight. All I know is I have a whole lotta ass and a whole lotta belly that I'm not happy with...

...but can you IMAGINE being watched and scrutinized like this?? How come you never see men on the covers of these magazines unless they hit an astronomical weight?

These are the pics they posted to demonstrate how thin...



...or how fat...


...these women are. WTF is the National Enquirer to say what's too fat or thin? Then you wonder why women have all kinds of fucked up perspectives about what they look like. Gawd, it's infuriating.

Then, the world is full of infuriating things... so there ya go. LOL

BTW, I think Mariah never looked better...

Monday, November 16, 2009

Great Googly Moogly

Friday, November 13, 2009

We only part to meet again...

Welp, tomorrow is D-day. I say goodbye to these locks o'mine in search of a healthy head of hair. LOL

So, suffer me a goodbye to my hair post...

This is me circa kindergarten:


Excuse the messiness of my hair but my mother would never let me wear my hair out so I would take it out when I left home then re-braid it on the way home.

Yes, I was devious even in kindergarten. Don't tell me you're surprised. lol :P

Anyway, that is actually the length I'm going for...



Unfortunately after years and years of abuse, my hair is refusing to budge past this length and even at this length it looks like a rat's nest. LOL

So... tomorrow I am going to visit Mia at d Sabrina Salon in Fairfield who have dubbed themselves "curly hair experts". We shall see about that.

All I know is the session is going to be the most I've EVER, ever, ever, ever, ever, paid for a hair cut (something like 4x's more) BUT anyone else I've ever gone to for a cut made me look like either this:



Or this..



Here's a tip: If you have curly hair and a hairdresser says the word, "layer"?

<::R::><::U::><::N::>


Anyhoo, I have a whole lotta damage so I'm thinkin' to get it all out I'm gonna end up with a short cut. And I'm prepared (dare I say excited!) for it.

Jess will bear witness, camera in hand, I'm sure. LOL

So... goodbye split/fried/over processed hair! LOL

Here's to you...











Thursday, November 12, 2009

Unbreak my heart...

... not to panic anybody or anything but...

...ummmm....

THANKGIVING IS TWO WEEKS FROM TODAY!

Which means that it's almost time for some poor innocent bystander to die behind some idiot trying to get their hands on the newest electronic fad.

For some reason as soon as October 1st hit, time has been a runaway train.

Don't believe me?

I've already started working on my Tina-cious Year In Review post. mhm... I know.

In OMG something is wrong with me news, I find myself longing for Xmas music on the radio.

WTF is that about??

Speaking of Xmas. This made me laugh:



Can you tell my holiday thoughts are all over the place or what? LOL

Ok, fine, I'm leaving. Check in tomorrow. I'll be having a very stupid discussion then too. :P

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