I know someone with AIDS

I hung out with my cousin from California at the mall the other day while she was visiting her dad for the week.  We caught up on a lot of stuff- family, friends and boyfriends. I hadn't seen her older brother who was now living in NYC since the one time I'd gone to visit the city, in March 2009. Back then, my cousin had suggested I come visit him and had offered to let me stay at his place. I planned my trip, and my good friend also booked her flight to go visit her family in New Jersey.

My intentions were to sleep at my cousin's and meet up with my friend during the day to go out and explore the city. However, my cousin pulled a disappearing act and never returned my calls or texts about my incoming visit. I was very disappointed. I ended up staying with my friend's family instead, but managed to get a visit in the city with my cousin and his boyfriend. Yes, he is gay.

However, the visit was rather tense, and things with the boyfriend sort of rubbed me the wrong way. Since then, I haven't spoken to my cousin. When I hold grudges, I hold on to them for years.

Fast forward a few years to that day with my cousin at the mall, and I explain to her that I hadn't talked to him since then because of what had happened.

"When was this?" she asked.
"Around spring of 2009, why?" I asked.
"Well, ok, I know he was going through a hard time, right around that period-" she said.
"Oh yeah, I remember. My mom told me he'd landed in the hospital for like a month, with pneumonia or something" I continued.
"Yeah, but..... okay, you can't say this to anyone- not your mom, dad- no one, but my brother has full blown AIDS."
My mind went completely blank.
"Oh wow. Not HIV? But AIDS?" I asked to make sure.
"Yeah, AIDS" she responded

I didn't ask her too much about it, but he's known for three years now. He doesn't know how long he's had it because he started being promiscuous years ago when he was a teenager (I think he's 28-29 now.) Over the years, he just kept getting really sick, having problems holding his bowels, until finally he ended up in the hospital. I remember my mom telling me about the hospital stint, but I never assumed it would be because of AIDS. You just can't think of things like that.

His boyfriend and he have been together for over three years now, and when I asked if he'd gotten tested, my cousin told me he didn't want to. It was moot at this point. He didn't care if he had it.

No one else knows- my aunt doesn't want to tell anyone in the family because of the stigma attached to it and I can understand. I mean, she didnt tell my parents that he was gay until this summer. I've known for 3 years so far.

I felt bad for him, because I couldn't possibly imagine how his life had changed since he'd found out, and I haven't spoken to him since exchanging a Facebook hello in the last few weeks. What's more difficult is that I'm not supposed to know, so I can't express any concern or offer encouragement, so to me it's like, he's fine. Nothing's wrong and it's a lie I have to hide.

Be smart. Protect Yourself.

I've come to realize....

That I will never be enough for my dad.

I wish I could share that more in detail with Sebastian. I feel like we may have more things in common than we let on, mainly because he is so removed from his mother himself, but I don't want to go on a rampage against my family.

I'm 25 now. I think it's time to say I'm not longer as stupid or gullible or scared of my parents as I was when I was 21 or 22 even.

A few years ago, my half brother gave me the best single piece of advice he had ever given me. We'd never seen eye to eye on anything, but I'll never forget the day he said "Don't always believe what Manuel [Dad] says."

I came to conclude that my dad was at most times, full of it.

As a father, I truly admire what he's done for our family. He's never been without work for long, and if he has, he has always been able to rely on savings and other resources so that we always had food on the table. We never went hungry, cold, or unclothed. We were never Poor.

I'm sure you've heard the saying that "daughters marry their fathers." And of course that's not in the incestuous relationship I'm referring to, but more on the emotional stance. I never thought I'd say this, but as I go through my twenties, I see that I want someone who can provide for me like my father provided for our family. But, I don’t think I’d be happy if I married someone like my father.

With time, I’ve come to realize that no matter how hard I try or what I do,

I will never be enough for my dad.

It hadn't occurred to me until recently how much of his b*!!$h!7 I've had to endure.

The first time I remember it happening was when I graduated from high school. Honors graduate. Straight As for my senior year. Apparently, that wasn't enough. "Why didn't you get highest honors?" he asked. My mom tried to comfort me and stood up for me saying "She still graduated. And she got honors. That's better than nothing."

That's right. Cause YOU didn't even make it into high school.

Anyway- fast forward 4 years, and we come up to community college. My dad complains that at my age, I'm so lost that I don't know where I'm headed. At my age, he was already way ahead of the game, having left his homeland for another country, and begun traveling the world.

I'm sorry dad…. But at least I didn't have a child when I was only 18 years old- or neglect him either.

2008 comes into view— Incident 1 occurs when I tell him I got the new job at the construction company where I'm still working. He congratulates me like any person would. When he comes home later that evening, he says "Now, you have to find out where the others failed, why they are leaving."

I tell him the current person is leaving for a closer opportunity to her home. He looks at me and says "That's what they want you to believe. They'll tell you anything to get you to accept the job. They'll often lie to you and offer you less money. They couldn't find anyone else to accept their offer."

I have to admit that hurt. It was like basically putting me down for having gotten the job in the first place (after only 2 days from quitting the previous one)-- that I had been offered the job, not due to my abilities and skills, but because they couldn't find anyone else to take it in the first place.

Thanks for thinking of me so highly Dad.

Incident 2—we are talking in the kitchen, discussing what schedule I should follow. My mom who understands the stress of college work (because she's actually gone to college) tells me that it'd be better for me to follow the 8-5 schedule, because starting at 7am would mean I'd have to get up at 5am, and it'd be too difficult since I review at nighttime. I tell my dad that I'd discussed it with my mom already and that I've chosen 8-5 because 7 am was too early for me.

He looks at me with a grin—the grin that says "you're lazy"—and says "7 am is too early for you?? I do it! There's no reason why you shouldn't be able to do it too."

I had had enough. I looked at him directly in the eye and finally stood up for myself "You don't go to school—you don't take 4 classes and have a full time job, and come home to take care of my sisters. When exactly am I supposed to study if I were to start work at 7? I study at nighttime because that's the only time I am able to. But thanks for noticing."

Since then, I’ve distanced myself from my dad; when he ventured off to California to assume possession of an auto repair shop, he went to pursue his dream. Now he talks to me expecting me to help him continue the business if anything were to happen to him…. i.e.: DEATH!

He asked me to go joint on his business account so that I’d have access to the money…… and then “asked” to take over the business if something happened to him. I gave it 5 minutes of thought. I figured, why say no and hurt his feelings now…. When he will never know what I do with it after he dies? I’m not sorry, and I’m selling. I’m not going to indulge him and continue living his dream. No, I won’t have it. I already told him years ago that I wouldn’t work in the auto repair industry again because it wasn’t my calling. I have my own pursuit of happiness to follow; even if I don’t know what it is, I know auto shop isn’t it!

"Dad, have you thought of life insurance for the family first?" I asked him.

"No. I should really consider that." he answered.

Uh.... you think? Before you even consider me taking over your business, (which isn't even making a high profit) get some damn life insurance to take care of your underage kids and your wife (my mom)!

It's not that I hate my dad, although at times, I can feel it boiling under my skin. It's perhaps the fact that I'm resenting him more as I grow up. I get to study him as the hypocrite that he tries to disguise; the hate that he has instilled in me because he's biased and prejudiced of everything that revolves around us. I will admit that he has influenced me on a lot of what he believes in and I hate it; the racism, the bigotry…..

When we talk about facts, I just realize I believed a lot of his bullshit due to respect. But Sebastian made me realize that my father ruled by fear. And yes, it did work. I don't have kids. Why? Because both of my parents put fear in me that if I got pregnant, I'd have to leave the house, and my mother wouldn't let me on the streets with a child in tow, which would mean I would end her marriage because my dad wouldn't stay in the same household.

Oh yeah...... that conversation actually happened.

I was gaining weight, and had a bigger appetite for milk.......... supposedly "cravings" my mom said. She demanded I pee on a stick to prove I wasn't pregnant.

I was 21 at the time.

I love my father as a parent and for always pushing forward and never giving up. But I don't like the person he became ever since having landed on this soil. When I spent time in France a few years ago, all his friends told me stories about him, about how nice and joyful he was. I have to assume they're lying to make me feel proud, because it's not the same person they describe.

SO thanks dad for all the "positive" reinforcement you have shown me, for all the manipulative actions you have mastered, the support you only give me when it's convenient for you such as telling me "where am I going to find someone as clever as you when it comes to business negotiations?"

10 years ago today......

....... my twin sisters were born.  Where has the time gone? It really doesn't feel like ten years at all. And ten years ago, our entire lives changed.

The first time my mother told me she was pregnant, I cried. I was scared, angry and jealous. A part of me felt rejected. I was 13 going on 14 at the time. I told her I would feel indifferent to a new sibling because I only had half brothers who were not around at the time and had been raised as an only child for most of my life. I couldn’t imagine sharing my life with a new child as a teen.

Unfortunately, my mother had what you call a “blighted ovum type of pregnancy” where there is no fetus in the sac. I remember feeling relieved and thinking she wouldn’t try again. I was quickly set straight when she said she would try one more time before she turned 40 the next year. I silently wished she wouldn’t get pregnant again. In August of 1999, she announced she was pregnant, as I hoped the same thing would happen again. I went with her to her first ultrasound and remember feeling very excited. It wasn’t until the nurse asked “Did you know you’re carrying twins?” that both mine and my mom’s jaws dropped.

What? Twins? No way. Please let it be true! That’d be so cool!

And it was. Fraternal twin girls.

On December 21, there was a bad storm in our town which left a big mess in our yard; branches, seeds and leaves lay everywhere. My grandmother had arrived just a few days before from France and was going to stay with us for the winter to be present for the girls’ birth in late January of 2000. By then, I was 15. My mother had been ordered into bed rest, but feeling anal about cleanup, wanted to clear out the debris. My grandmother helped as well, and I remember laughing and joking with them during the cleanup. I remember my dad being very angry with me and telling me that if anything happened to my mother or the twins before their due date, that he would hold me solely responsible for it. (My dad is a very stern person. Someday I’ll blog about him)

December 23rd, the rest of my family came to our house to spend Christmas with us. On the morning of December 24th, my dad comes into my room where my grandma and I are sleeping to tell us that they are taking my mom to the hospital because her water broke. I was still half asleep but as soon as I heard “Hospital. Water. Broke.” I jolted up. The first thought that came to mind was “Oh shit. I’m responsible for this. My dad’s gonna kill me. Please don’t let anything go wrong.”

I stayed home with my cousins and grandma until my uncle came to pick us up to go to the hospital. At 12:16 pm and 12:18 pm, Diane and Désirée were born. (My mother and I had picked out the names.) They were 5 weeks premature and very tiny. The skin hung from their legs like old wrinkly ladies, and they were so hairy. They were kept in incubators for 4-5 days until my mom was released from the hospital.

At times, my life becomes more challenging and difficult, but I don’t regret at all that they were born- without them, the house would be a lot quieter, and my parents might not even be together anymore. During inopportune times, I blame my parents for the decisions they made and continue to make as they have affected all of us in some way throughout the recent years. Someday I'll explain what I mean about all of this. Sometimes I wish I would have been more active in their toddler years, but am happy when I see them after a few days away from home. They can always make me laugh, and I look forward to the following years.

 

What were you doing ten years ago today?
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