My Aunt drank herself to death
My aunt drank herself to death
its not something that we have spoken about, well not as far as I can remember but I believe she drank herself to death and it was a daily decision she made. My aunt was a nurse, back in the day when nursing or teaching were the options black women got to have, she chose to be a nurse and I have always wondered what would have happened had she known happiness outside the brown bottle.
My family, like many others, wrestles with generations and intergenerations of addiction and dysfunction, it sometimes looks like we are made to choose things that are to our detriment and now that Im making my own choices, I wonder when the older women in my family ever got a chance to make choices that were theirs, not being influenced by others.
I dont know much about my aunt’s life save for what I observed, she had a daughter she married off when she was in her early 20s, her daughter, my cousin, was a talented violinist and portrait artist but she was told she would never make money with music or paintings, so she was told to dedicate her life to god and her mother, she put the violin & her pencils away and picked up a drinking habit as well. so they married her off so she could be a “better” woman, it didnt work, the marriage was a bond between two alcoholics and she died before she turned 27. I am only realising now how young she was to be married back then and I wonder if she would have lived longer had she been allowed to follow her dreams.
My aunt was a very religious person and now that I am growing older, I wonder how much of her religion and her drinking had anything to do with unfulfilled dreams, the women in my family, Im sure like many other families, have had to give up their dreams to try and fit into what society sold them to be the ticket to freedom and even though they played by the rules, the rewards were never worth the effort
my aunt drank herself to death and when she stopped breathing, everybody was surprised at how she didnt fight to stay alive. I say she drank herself to death because she knew the effects of alcohol & it was her only drink, there used to be a “running joke” that after she leaves your house, you have to spend days looking for beer glasses around your home, sounds weird but she liked her beer so much that she would put a glass in every corner she finds herself in and leave it there, as she is circulating around the house, she is taking sips from all these glasses & when it was supposed to be recognised as a serious problem, it was pegged down to greed.
Im old enough to remember when she got heartbroken after giving birth to her son & Ive always wondered when the drinking escalated to that extent. Heartbreak is something that Black Women are not always allowed to admit how destructive they can be and its saddening realising that the same problems they had with companionship back then, are still existing because nobody has the time to stop and check what heartbreak does to Black Women.
Its layered heartbreak, first by the system, then by the people who are supposed to help you fight the system, then the children that you birth who turn around and become part of the patriarchy that beats them down so badly, so she drank herself into an early grave
Im growing older & I am trying to understand the women in my family more from memory and as I learn more about myself, I wonder what their lives would have looked like if they had been given the options we now have or if they had been informed that their existence was more than being mothers and nurses and servants to all but themselves. the older generation prides itself in being busy and handy and being labourous but at what cost? If we believed and understood that our lives arent meant to be all about work and strife, that we can choose to have lovers who dont make us feel invalid with age, that our bodies changing is a celebration, it shows growth and how our mistakes dont have to be lifetime regrets.
I woke up and remembered how my aunt drank herself to death from misery. I wasnt there when she passed but I remember how the family was more shocked by her dying alone in a wheelchair in a hospital passage and I always wonder, who was she before she started drinking to cope with being who she lived to be.