My mother always tries to hide her feelings from me when we leave my Uncles house. We visit my grandma, who lives with him, because of her health deteriorating. I have noticed over time, my mother does not get excited before the trip; she speaks less, and less to my uncle. I overheard the way my uncle was talking that Sunday, was shocking and uncalled for. I wish my Uncle could take his degrading focus off my mother and only focus on how it is affecting me, or even my grandma. I am his only niece and grandma is soon to be in heaven! What is wrong with him? My mother does everything to keep peace, especially when grandma is around. Uncle Don does not even care about the words he puts out and it is obvious he cares about no one’s feelings.
They all were sitting outside talking as I crept up and stood to the side of the patio door. I wanted to hear more. In fact, I wanted to hear exactly what he was saying; instead of the loud mumbling voice, I always heard each visit. I overheard some of the most disrespectful comments he said to my mother. The more he said, the angrier I got. She just sat there, like always, not saying maybe two words to him. The longer I stood there listening how hateful he was being, I thought for sure this would be the day, but she still sat there not muttering a word. Now, I was mad at her! I could not understand why she just sat there once again taking his abusive remarks. I just stood there shaking my head as it fogged up. I finally heard enough and turned to go back upstairs to be with my cousin.
It was getting late and I noticed my mother gathering her things to leave. I saw how my mother was holding back all her emotions that built up throughout that day, until she could get in the car. I ran around hugging everyone, but trying to avoid my Uncle Don. I even turned my back to him, quickly turning on my iPod, and stuffing ear buds in each ear, to listen to my music at the highest level I could push the sound up. That was impossible and he was determined not to let me walk out without hugging him. I was mad, but I was also mad at my mother for not standing up to him. Next thing I knew, my uncle had come up behind me, pulled one ear bud out of my left ear. He said softly, “do not let the loud music hurt your hearing and I will see you next time you come up.” I nodded and smiled, then headed out behind my mother as she walked out the door.
My mother drove off as we both were waving goodbye to everyone. My mother was not even a mile down the road, when I glanced over to say something to her; I saw a tear running down her right cheek. She calmly turned her head away, wiping the tear, in hopes I did not see it. At this point, I decided not to say anything to her. Why should I? I was mad at her for not standing up to her vulgar brother, my uncle. Over the next three hours, it took her to drive us home; I would glance over, with my head down, only moving my eyeballs to still seeing the tears run down off her face. When we got home, I went straight to my bedroom, crawled into bed, and just sobbed not understanding why my uncle was so hateful one minute and nice the next. Five minutes later, my mother walked into my bedroom and asked me what was wrong. I told her, “I could not understand why Uncle Don is so mean every time we go up there, especially to you, mom. It is never a pleasant experience for me to visit; I get upset when I see you cry by what Uncle Don says and how he behaves towards you. I am also, upset because you sat back, and did nothing, NOTHING!” My mother tried explaining a few things to me, without putting my uncle down or making him out to be a bad uncle. She also said my grandma lives there and we have to go there to see her. My mom has always told me this story over the years; a father was tinkering out in his garage. He noticed his son walking around, being bored, and kicking rocks.