Last weekend, my mom called and said that they were going to go to Kansas City to visit one of my Uncle’s. She said that they had gotten word that he wasn’t doing very well and that m y dad needed to come up there. He is my dad’s youngest sibling, youngest brother. Since he is only 10 years older than me, we grew up together. I was torn because it was Okoye’s first semi formal dance and (I hated to tell him no) going to see Unclie Chris. ‘Uncle Chrissie’s fine…..I’ll get up there soon…..’ that’s pretty much what I told myself.

I didn’t hear from my mom and dad Saturday night so I called them early on Sunday. My dad answered and was very vague. didn’t want to talk about his brother but he sure wanted to talk about how the grass was growing…unhuh….I know my dad. My dad is your stereotypical man. Feelings and emotions are best expressed through denial and yard work or some other type of labor. I chitchatted with him a minute longer and then I asked for my mom. Soon as she got on the phone, I asked her what was up.

My uncle has full blown AIDS. He’s lived with HIV for years. Hepatitis C for as long as I can remember AND he’s diabetic. When he found out about Hepatitis, I was still living at home and he wanted to come visit so Moms made sure I knew and I could act accordingly. I stayed druing the whole visit and Uncle Chrissie and I talked a lot.

He told me about the life he had lived. The life my father and all of them had lived. It hadn’t been easy and they made a lot of choices, most time bad choices, in order to survive. Growing up, I kinda knew most of this. I mean, I was taught at an early age that if someone asked if I was such and such’s niece or daughter, I better ask ’why you want to know’ before saying yes. So most of it was not knew to me but I could sense HE felt a need to tell his tale.
Fast forward to two years ago. Easter. He came to visit. My mind, even NOW just kind of shudders at the change in him. Very slight. Looked like a wind could knock him down. Tired. Worn out. It was hard to believe that he was only 10 years older than me. He looked like he was 80 instead of 45.But still , when it came time for pictures he would stand beside me and hug my shoulders sooooooooooo tight. Amazingly tight. At that visit, he told me a lot more. About his choices. And about talking to my son’s. and being real with them and their lives ahead of them.

I went to go see Uncle Chris today. On the way my mom said ‘I want you to remember this is not the uncle Chrissie you remember.’ I pooh-poohed her off. You know, I’m educated. Well read. I know what the dangers are and how the body shuts down…but nothing…NOTHING can prepare you for this.

I walked down the hall of the nursing home and I could hear some one moaning…very loud. So much pain. It was almost…the sound of an animal. As we got closer to my uncles room, the moans got louder and louder and when we turned into the room there my Uncle was. The have a ‘mattress’ that moves the body slightly, every now and again so that bed sores and such don’t set in. They were placing him on that and just the movement they were doing to his body for this soft inflateable almost gelly like mattress….caused him tremendous pain. And he was moaning. Once they got him settled into a position, he was still convulsing with pain. He had curled into a ball, with a pillow between his legs and his arm resting on the pillow as well. His gaze was fixed and his mouth struggled with the air he was trying to take in. I paused for a second and then marched right up to the bed like a soldier bent on finishing my tour of duty or something.

I walked up to him, grabbed his fingers and leaned down. I told him it was me and he gripped my hand tight and wouldn’t let go. The hospice nurse came in at that time and talked to us and the entire time, with his gaze fixed, not blinking I rubbed his hand. When I guess he couldn’t hold anymore, he let my hand go and I went and stood by the window and talked to the nurse’s or his case worker on a one on one basis.

After about an hour we prepared to leave and I was letting everyone get their hugs in before me. Finally I strolled over and grabbed his hand and I leaned over and said ‘uncle Chrissie….its Jak….I’m heading out’. he let out a loud painfull moan and grabbed my hand so tight. I told him to calm down and to relax but his whole body had tightened up and that in itself was causing him so much pain. The nurse came in on the other side and stroked his head and my mom came over behind me and stroked the other side of his head and promised him we would be back. He still clung onto me but he’s body was still stressed. Finally I said ‘uncle Chissie, I will be back’. his body went limp but he still held onto my hand. We sat like that for 20 minutes. Him with his fixed stare and me with tears falling.

I hate getting older simply because it seems like the older I get the more death is around me. Pain seems to always be lurking around every damn corner. I watched my dad the rest of the day and his shoulders had dropped quite a bit and I found myself feeling very protective of him. To the point of being very disrespectful of his brothers, and their wives. I grew up in a very respect orientated home. didn’t matter if my family member was strung out on drugs, living in a box or didn’t have a dime to his name… I still betta show them respect. So for me to say ‘you have forgotten that my father bought you a damn car and NEVER asked you to pay him one damn dime’ or ‘did he NOT just make your freakin’ mortgage payment last month??? Do NOT point any fingers at what he does or does NOT do.‘ welllllllllllllll…lets just say that I might not be sitting at the grown ups table at Thanksgiving. But everyone is expecting him to take care of everything. Yes, he is the oldest and that has been his job for YEARS. But its so hard to take care of everything all the time. It’s exhausting. It zapps your strength. And he’s not the healthiest man. This is second sibling in 7 month’s. The second time that everyone is looking to him to make sure everything is done and taken care of. But it worries me about who will be there and who will take care of him when he needs it..