Shani and Gene, RIP
I am so busy at work these days that I feel whenever I post it is with either euphoric or catastrophic news. Today I am serving up the latter.
This morning my mother called me at work. I was in a meeting so I missed the call. She then called my cell phone - which she never does. It means she wants to reach me right away. When I called her back, she told me that my sister's friend in the Caymans where she recently spent 6 months has been killed in a car accident. She was hit head on by a truck with her baby daughter in the car. Not a scratch on little Zoe. Her husband, Charlie, called my sister last night, and my mom said did not stop crying throughout the night.
Now my sister and I have not been speaking lately. We are vexed with each other as we are wont to be from time to time. It was time to put that away and be there for her. So I texted and told her that I would be over to stay with her this evening as Mummy would be out with friends. I said I would cook dinner for her. She was crying when she called me back. Shani was 39, Jewish and Australian. She had two kids, a boy, 5 years old and a girl, 21 months. When she visited my sister in Toronto last June over Pride, we all had brunch.
When I got there this evening, my sister told me that our aunt, Maureen, who lives in Miami called. She was hysterical. She said that our uncle, their youngest brother, Gene had passed away. I was calm. It was a wonder that Gene survived 60 years on this earth. Gene was born with his umbilical cord wrapped around his throat. He lost a lot of oxygen to his brain. As a result, he had a severe speech impediment and was profoundly developmentally delayed. He was a tiny man, about 100 pounds. He lived with my grandmother in Trinidad until she died in 2000. When I flew down with my mother to bury Granny, I had never seen him so distraught. He did not want to live without his mother. But live he did. For the last 7 years he lived in the 3 bedroom house my grandparents left him with Maureen's son, Duane, another challenged family member, and Gene's best friend, Carl. The three of them fought, partied, cooked, smoked DuMaurier cigarettes and drank rum. I never thought of Gene as my "uncle". He was so childlike. He loved my mother deeply, who is the oldest. Anytime anyone went down to Trinidad, she would send him jeans and sneakers and tee shirts. Gene worked in a factory for 22 years until he lost the top of a finger in a workplace accident and got a disability pension. He was estranged from his brother, Neil, an engineer. My memory of Gene will always be sitting at the old record player (the "radiogram") in my grandparents' wooden house playing records sitting in his special chair playing imaginary drums. Last night Gene had a stroke, Duane was with him from about 3 am in the hospital, around 6 pm Duane went home to shower and eat. When he got there, the hospital called to say Gene had passed away.
My mother does not know yet, she is still out. I just talked to my Dad and he said it. She is going to take this news hard.
Jige xo
This morning my mother called me at work. I was in a meeting so I missed the call. She then called my cell phone - which she never does. It means she wants to reach me right away. When I called her back, she told me that my sister's friend in the Caymans where she recently spent 6 months has been killed in a car accident. She was hit head on by a truck with her baby daughter in the car. Not a scratch on little Zoe. Her husband, Charlie, called my sister last night, and my mom said did not stop crying throughout the night.
Now my sister and I have not been speaking lately. We are vexed with each other as we are wont to be from time to time. It was time to put that away and be there for her. So I texted and told her that I would be over to stay with her this evening as Mummy would be out with friends. I said I would cook dinner for her. She was crying when she called me back. Shani was 39, Jewish and Australian. She had two kids, a boy, 5 years old and a girl, 21 months. When she visited my sister in Toronto last June over Pride, we all had brunch.
When I got there this evening, my sister told me that our aunt, Maureen, who lives in Miami called. She was hysterical. She said that our uncle, their youngest brother, Gene had passed away. I was calm. It was a wonder that Gene survived 60 years on this earth. Gene was born with his umbilical cord wrapped around his throat. He lost a lot of oxygen to his brain. As a result, he had a severe speech impediment and was profoundly developmentally delayed. He was a tiny man, about 100 pounds. He lived with my grandmother in Trinidad until she died in 2000. When I flew down with my mother to bury Granny, I had never seen him so distraught. He did not want to live without his mother. But live he did. For the last 7 years he lived in the 3 bedroom house my grandparents left him with Maureen's son, Duane, another challenged family member, and Gene's best friend, Carl. The three of them fought, partied, cooked, smoked DuMaurier cigarettes and drank rum. I never thought of Gene as my "uncle". He was so childlike. He loved my mother deeply, who is the oldest. Anytime anyone went down to Trinidad, she would send him jeans and sneakers and tee shirts. Gene worked in a factory for 22 years until he lost the top of a finger in a workplace accident and got a disability pension. He was estranged from his brother, Neil, an engineer. My memory of Gene will always be sitting at the old record player (the "radiogram") in my grandparents' wooden house playing records sitting in his special chair playing imaginary drums. Last night Gene had a stroke, Duane was with him from about 3 am in the hospital, around 6 pm Duane went home to shower and eat. When he got there, the hospital called to say Gene had passed away.
My mother does not know yet, she is still out. I just talked to my Dad and he said it. She is going to take this news hard.
Jige xo