No More Secrets

I read my friend's recent blog about missing her aunt who had passed away a year ago, and she related a sweet/funny/sad story about an early memory of her dear auntie.

It touched my heart, as my aunt is in the hospital dying of cancer as I type. I plan on going to see her early this week. I hope she lasts till then.

My other aunt, her sister, asked me not to post it to the Internet. I think some kind of family feud is going on in her head; she is angry with my cousins who were only trying to help them, so I suppose so she did not want them reading about her dying sister, THEIR aunt, on my blog. But this side of my family has always kept secrets, does not like to air their dirty laundry, which now makes me very suspicious. But that is for another blog.

When my father was sick with cancer, we had to keep it a secret from him. How unfair it was to a family of four children who never got to yell at him for what he did, or give him a chance to explain or apologize, or settle differences and maybe part with forgiveness. We were cheated. He was cheated. Just like we have been cheated with his sister, not knowing the cancer that we thought was perhaps in remission, had spread throughout her body, and that she only had a short time to live.

And now, it could be hours, days, or weeks. And we are scrambling to find time to see her one more time. So from this day forth, my motto is NO MORE SECRETS. Not on my end.

I love my aunt. She was always kind to me, and one of my earliest memories of her was when I was still in my crib, and she peeked her head in to see if I was awake. It was early in the morning. We NEVER had visitors so early in the morning. I was delighted, jumping up and down with excitement.

She was so kind to us, a ray of sun in a very dark world. She took me ice skating, she bought me gifts, she told us stories, took us for walks, teaching us how to pick ripe blueberries, and then later in the season, Concord grapes. She did things that men only did, and her inspiration gave me the courage to challenge traditional women's roles. It was her fire that I carried within me when I was the only girl in shop class, or at 19 was a truck driver/safety mechanic.

Sure she was quirky. She did not like parties or crowds, like my father, and a bit like me. She did not like to be photographed. She drove Al Capone cars...big Buicks, and little Mercedes sport cars. In her later years she drove primarily VW's - perhaps that is why I feel oddly at home in my VW's. She was a fly fisherman. She was almost manly. She never married, or even dated that I know of, and spent her entire life taking care of her mother, aunts, and living with her sister. If wondered if she was a man caught in a woman's body. There are many untold stories here, and maybe even secrets, which will probably go buried with her. She is conservative, yet was far ahead of most of us in her research into healthy eating and supplements. She was and probably will always be, a bit of an enigma. And when she passes on, another set of secrets will be buried with her.

Perhaps my being so open is direct opposition to what I have lived with and rebel against. I spill what is in my heart and am open about my life. Perhaps it is in my openness that I hope to find healing .

So to those who are left in this old Irish family, there will be NO MORE SECRETS. At least not from me.


Anonymous said…
This is a difficult post to make some comment, more long slow conversations...........well that's my problem with this medium AND this topic. sending love
Andrea said…
I love you so much right now.

WV: fuggly
I guess that's extremely ugly, like secrets that need to see the light.

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