Living Out Large:- Chris Lives on...

Christine Williams, graduate of St Francois Girls High School , distinguished herself in Languages and Math, and then went on to follow the family tradition of becoming an alcoholic. She bore six children Roberta (31), Tishawn (29), Xaviera (25), Kenwin (21), Simone (deceased) and Obeka (18).

I, Roberta, was the only one who ever knew her sober. By the time the others came along she was dedicated to numbing herself daily with alcohol.

In 1994, at the age of 40, she met a man who became a “good friend” by introducing her to the joys of Cocaine.

She dropped out of sight and was not seen by any family member until June of '95 when she came to my place of work to beg for “charity”, as it was the custom of the organization to give alms every Saturday. As I stretched my hand out to give money to what must have been the hundredth person I recognized some-thing in the face. My mind reeled with horror as I refused to believe my eye's truth. I don't think I ever regained my composure, nor did she for that matter, but I found out where she could be found after work.

She hung out on Duke Street by what is now known as Ambassador's Used Car lot. At that time it was just another building burnt out during the coup. In the filth and squalor she huddled. My Ma, better known as Chris, mammy (even tot-tots when I wanted something) had fallen so far from Grace. The pain of seeing her in these conditions was mingled with the joy of knowing she was alive if not well and formed a huge fetid cloud that threatened to stifle me. The story continued the usual painful meandering common to situations in which rehabilitation of a drug addict is being attempted. Broken appointments, AWOL from rehab, missing money, glazed eyes during important functions, the works.

In September of 1996 I looked up from my desk to see a shell-shocked Mother standing outside my place of work and I knew. I JUST KNEW. I didn't need to hear the words; “Dey tell mih ah have AIDS, Robin”. There began the odyssey that began my life, it seems.

I spent the next year waiting impatiently for her to die, longing for my pain to be over. I could not deal with it. I hurt her so, so, so much during that time. Oh, how I hated her and all that she represented. Weakness, failure, defeat were all that I felt that her life and now her death embodied. She had been selfish in life by drinking our childhood away and physically abusing me/us and now she was about to opt out before she could make amends. I pressed her to find out how she had contracted the disease but her answers were always vague. She would just say with narrowed eyes “I know who give me dis ting, yuh know”. My guess is that it was transmitted sexually.

My youngest sister Obeka, cried every time I tried to broach the topic with her in preparation for Chris' death as her father had died the previous year. For her, this meant she would become an orphan. Kenwin, always in love with his Mother, just wanted to see and be with her as much as possible. Tishawn and Xaviera could not be contacted to let them know Chris was unwell owing to the fact that no one knew where they were. August 1 st , 1997 she requested to see Kenwin and Obeka so I took them all out for ice-cream and a long drive. She looked so radiant and happy making my “prepare yourself for a sick looking Ma” talk seem totally out of place. We had the best time and nothing marred the evening. No alcohol, no drugs, no iffy-looking characters hailing her out on the streets. She even seemed to not be sick at all. She was so attentive to the children. For a moment I saw the old Chris from back in the day when she just had me, and my younger brother was only a baby. Then she danced and practiced karate and wore long flowing dresses.

When I dropped her off at Grandma's where she was staying as her illness progressed, Kenwin and Obeka begged to stay with her. I said no but promised to take us all to dinner the following night.

It was while having a bath in preparation to go pick her up that my friend came into the shower to tell me that she had just died.

Now understand this, I knew my mother was about to die for over a year, I had longed for her to die many times, yet the news of her passing hit me like a proverbial tonne of bricks. Obeka retreated into a shell. Kenwin was emotionally dishevelled. Tishawn came and left no real emotional impact though I am sure he had his angst. The boys were really in love with their Mother. Xaviera did not find out her Mother was even ill or had died until four months later when she emerged from whatever abyss she escapes to.

For me the impact of my Mother's death due to AIDS has continued to this day and seems to worsen the more I live.

My son Zion was born 10 th February, 2004 and I hurt for Chris in the months prior and subsequent to that date. I wanted my Matriarch to guide me through the labyrinth of Motherhood. I cannot recall number the times I have wanted to be able to call her up and say that I now understand something she had said to me earlier in my life. That I now empathize with her and see why she made some of the decisions she made. I want to hug her and apologise for being such a judgemental, immature idiot when she needed me the most. I knew so little about life then. I was so naive. It's ironic how my live has followed almost the same path as hers did. I have been faced with almost the same challenges as she was; abusive spouse, death of a child, disillusionment with career, to name a few. My challenge, as I see it, is to make different decisions. I have to every day continue searching for ways come up with decisions that sustain life in myself and my son (fundamentally, I believe my Mother gave up on life and this apathy not only killed her long before AIDS did, but it is also is what I think let AIDS in).

Zion will continue the tradition of loving oneself and of making life-sustaining decisions. I want to teach him what it means to take responsibility for his person, including his sexuality.

Unfortunately, it is a lesson my siblings, with the exception of the last have not yet learnt and so I continue to have faith in them all the while exercising wisdom in my dealings with them.

As life goes on I draw closer to my Mother, understanding her more and learning from her mistakes.

Roberta – Trinidad (31)

_______________________________________________________________________

BACK TO TOP