I write today to exorcize the demons that exist in my family and tend to occupy my thoughts, destabilizing the person that needs to show up and be fully present for young adults…. that person is me, Ms. Chavez.
You know that person, cause you may have that b*tch in your family.. you know them, the one that got ahead by scheming, stealing, defrauding, bad-mouthing, yet wants the world to think they are this ‘respectable’ person. ‘Las apariencias engañan gente!!’ Trans: Appearances are deceiving.
They will fill their mouths by attaching themselves to the ‘winners’ in the family but will step over the ones that are in need. This b*tch has a mentally disabled sister and I will NEVER forget her answer when I pleaded for her to help her little sister… ‘yo no brego con loco’.. trans: I don’t deal with the crazies. Another example? She will gladly call on her brother in DR to drive her around like a chauffeur but help him otherwise? Help his kids? FOH..
I shouldn’t expect much from someone I witnessed physically abuse their own mother. I will never forget her force feeding her mom, my mom and as I tried to stop her, she shoving the door to stop me from entering the room. I yelled ‘ASSHOLE’! as I walked to my room. Hours later, I walked over to my moms room and there she was standing over her own feces.. My heart broke.. this is how she treated her own mother. I walked in anger to the living room where the b*tch sat in her throne as usual, and told her, ‘Ahi esta mami, se cago encima, gracias a usted!’ trans: Mom is over there, she shitted herself thanks to you.
B*tch didn’t move. She didn’t even blink. What’s unbelievable? The ONLY thing she remembers of that entire scene? That I called her an asshole. YES PEOPLE. Does mental illness run in our family? Cause I’m being told she ‘blacks out’… really, that’s what we are calling acting on malice? How fucking convenient.
Now I know this isn’t very Christian of me… but what does ‘not speaking’, ‘not venting’, ‘sweeping shit under the rug!!’ do?.. how has that served us?.. Do you know what it DOES do.. emboldens the same people to do worse.. You don’t check a b*tch, they’ll just keep doing the same shit. Unfortunately the more we let bygones be bygones and not talk through, not advise, not intervene at a younger age, the more of these b*tches will sprout up in society, breeding entitlement.
Even Christ flipped some tables in His day.. THE OUTRAGE EXPRESSED AT THE BRAZEN B*TCHES IN THE TEMPLE!! YES, that’s what I’m talking about.
And I’m so fuh-ckin tiiired of HAVING TO UNDERSTAND these b*tches, their past, motivations, ‘struggle’, this, that, FOH!!! STOP fuckin actin like Assholes!! yet.. I will also remember the Lord got this one… She is, after all named after another royal c¥nt in the family. And this is here say, my grandmother LOVED talking about how malicious her mother-in-law was.. ‘She ‘counted’ every grain of rice’, ‘she ‘loaned’ money to her own children’, etc. etc. Apparently my great-grandmother was hell on wheels and not much of a mother by their cultures definition of motherhood and in the end, ‘she got what she deserved’, was my grandmothers response to the malice she dished out.
I still remember the night I met her, my great-grandmother, when we arrived for the first time in DR. My sister, and I were about 8, and 9 years old and the streets were dark. I couldn’t understand at that age how electricity could just go off in a whole neighborhood and the only source of light you would have in your home would be a candle. We were New Yorkers born and bred and the concept of being that poor was unreal, but there we were.
The door of the car that drove us to our family’s old neighborhood in La Jose Marti, back in the early 80’s, opened slowly. We were half asleep when we were greeted by a small waving hand. She was our height but with the face of an older woman. We were confused for a split second and then realized she was, what was referred to back in those days as a midget. Not politically correct and I know, but I am framing this in the way a child saw the world in those days, because the adults established the language you spoke in and what you were exposed to, therefore the word they used and still do is ‘enana’ trans: dwarf. She was my grandfathers sister, aunt Gloria and she smiled and yelled: ‘las niñas de Nini!’ trans: Nini’s little girls. Nini was our grandfathers nickname.
Gloria introduced herself and walked us to our great-grandmothers home, a few feet away. A candle illuminated the space we entered. It was unfinished, wooden walls, sand on the floor made of concrete and a bare mattress in the far left. My great-grandmother sat naked in a useless wheelchair. She was still and motionless with cloudy eyes. We were later told she had gone blind and catatonic for a while and in her last days. As I inched closer to the bed, I saw it was sunken in the middle, worn and stained to a point you saw the metal springs jut out of the sunken spot. Gloria scurried to cover her mother probably forgetting she had left her in that state.
That state.. I always remembered that night and always asked myself, how can anyone end up that way? ‘Por to’ lo malo que hizo!’ was always my grandmothers response. Trans: ‘Because of all of the bad she did.’ She had four kids, besides Gloria and my grandfather, there were two other healthy able bodied people that could’ve cared for her… but instead, she sat, uncared for, waiting for death. Moral of the story? There is paying on Earth for all of your shortcomings. Trust that.
Do I wish that on anyone, of course not! I feel rage for a few minutes, let it out, write, text my cousins so they are aware of the madness, speak to my therapist, speak to my husband, but it lingers.. and it hurts. I’ve blogged about this b*tch before because of her toxic, ignorant behavior. And I always come back to the same reflection, there is a difference between loving and liking, and although I love my family members, she is not someone I like. And as the years go by, my dislike, by the grace of God turns into pity, hopefully sympathy.
One thing I can say, she has three of the most amazing kids. I love them as the brothers and sisters they are to me. All of the moments shared as we grew up together, raised by our grandmother for the most part, do not go unforgotten, if anything I miss creating more. I have focused on living my life alongside my husband to stop from hurting. Unfortunately, she has also created a ‘her or me’ kinda situation when it comes to celebrating anything in our family…
Yep, that b*tch.. it’s ok. Que Dios la siga bendiciendo. Trans: May God continue to bless her.
Rosa Isabel Chavez 