Monster Release

My family has always had deeply rooted secrets that seem to escape them yearly during the holidays. My family gets together a few days before Thanksgiving every year to have breakfast and put up my grandparent's Christmas tree. Because of "grandma's law," everyone is required to attend, with no exceptions. I missed one year because I didn't have the means or transportation, and she threatened to cancel Christmas and withhold everyone's gifts until February. My grandma is dramatic, manipulative, and demanding but makes the best desserts and genuinely loves you enough to nag you about wearing a coat in the winter and taking home a plate. My grandparents, my mother, my two younger brothers with their own families, and I were in attendance. Then there was my aunt Fradie's family, chosen by God, their words not mine, a family of four, usually her husband James, and two boys were there, but on this day, James was absent. It is always about an hour or a half into the festivities that things get interesting. It starts exciting and loving, with tones of games, laughs, and food, but eventually, the nightmares emerge. I don't stress that lightly; I mean monsters; it is almost like they create or receive these secrets or burdens, and the holidays force them to lay it all out on the table. Just to list a few past holiday burdens or secrets, There was when my brother pitched a fit, caused a scene, went on a rampage, and fell in the pool, all because he lost at spoons. An acid trip? It was never confirmed.

On one occasion, my mom was emotional about being a lousy mom and needed to share her life with me. She had been arrested, ran away 37 times, and lived in her friend's closet for two weeks. She has been to four juvenile correctional centers, three rehabs, and three programs for wayward girls, all within her seventh-grade year. Or the time my great grandma said some super inappropriate things about black people; she has African American and Latin grandkids, so, interesting, to say the least. Or my dad confessing to killing a man and burying him in the desert while in Las Vagas when I was very young. Safe to say, I never saw him again. Years later, my grandma became very "overwhelmed" and confessed she knew my dad's location. He had another family and a hidden child who was also my cousin.

The list is long. I could write a script over the holiday hijinks we've experienced. It never seems to fail, but we should have noticed the signs and known this particular day was far more severe. The first sign of concern was my grandma was exhausted, her house was a wreck, and Fradie's boys had moved in with her. My grandma even commented about needing more groceries to feed the boys. I agreed to help her with the groceries with the mindset she was babysitting more because of "Jame's New Job." During breakfast, Fradie kept excusing herself. She was more irritated than usual and seemed exhausted, which wasn't normal for her, but we assumed it was just life, work, family, and holiday preparations. She was sad. I didn't notice it, but looking back, she was distracted and worried. Fradie's family isn't perfect; they are strange but friendly people, her husband has a fantastic arid sense of humor, and her sons honestly are annoying and whiny but are nice boys. They, as a whole, are big into their religion, but Fradie, is different, there was a time when we shared everything and were very close growing up, and after college, we drifted apart. When she brought James to the first-holiday gathering, it was out of the blue; no one was expecting it or even knew anything about him, and no time later, they were married and starting a family. No one in the family dared to ask about their relationship or who James was, especially his past. There were some holiday gatherings you could feel that she was embarrassed by us (the rest of her family.) My family consists of different races, cultures, languages, views, opinions, life experiences, and beliefs. Sometimes we can be a handful, but if you attempt one, you try us all. We are a village, and we were not always aware of our genuine support for one another. Several people asked Fradie about James where he was, how was his new job, it must be hard with him working all the time, does he like the new position and pay? Even joking about him getting a pass from grandma about not being there, we never received a response from her. It was getting close to the end of the breakfast, and Fradie kept getting phone calls back to back and excused herself outside. We mingle more, clean up, and get ready for a game.

Meanwhile, Fradie, with puffy eyes and a red face, is crying. She confesses James didn't get the new job. Well, he never showed up for it. He had been missing for two months and was identified at a local hospital. A few months prior, James got hurt on his job, became heavily dependent on his meds, and became addicted. He was a previous addict when he was younger, so much so that it cost him his professional baseball career. He had been clean for decades up to a few months ago, when he started lying about where he was, stealing, and forgetting to pick up his boys. Eventually never showed up to the new job and lost it, emptying their bank account, stealing a car, and throwing his phone out on the highway so no one could find him. There was a time before he started taking the medication they talked about his past prescription struggle, and he initially agreed to try an alternative. Still, when he began acting less like the man she thought she knew and married, they discussed rehab, therapy, marriage counseling, and eventually divorce. He refused and went missing. The police helped her file a missing person report, and he was found somewhere random by a stranger, taken to the emergency room, and had been John Doe because he didn't meet the description or photos provided. Fradie works with people on suicide watch in emergency rooms, and it just so happens the one she visits quite often is where James was being held. Like clockwork on Thanksgiving Day, he walked into my grandparents' house just a week later; close behind Fradie, he was malnourished, and everyone had to pretend he was away at work the whole time. Grandma made us swear never to bring it up, especially to him.