Whether it is possible for one devoid of Love to ever know Love is a question I ponder on a daily basis. Whether one which had the “Root of Love” ripped from his life, while still an infant. One who was never shown the necessity for Love, by Family could Love at all.
Augusta Austin Caro, my Mother died in September of 1955. I at the time was a year old and some months. When I say the “Seed of Love” ripped from me, this is what I’m speaking of. A Mother is the first a child bonds with, starting the germination of this thing called Love. Over time this seed bears fruit, affection becomes Love. In my case the bond was initiated, but never ignited. Death removed the “Seed.”
I skip forward a few years to tell what I suffered at the hands of those whom were suppose to give me Love. My Grandmother, embittered by my Mothers death, as she often said”Gussie dying and leaving me to care for 9 children.” She was speaking of my brothers and sisters, yes you would have thought there was plenty of Love to go around in such a large group. Their was not. The attitude was mercenary. My siblings ranged in age 12 to 18 at the time of Mothers’ death. My Grandmother was s cruel and ignorant, she was raised in Alabama and on a turpentine plantation in Florida in a place called Red Rock near present day Milton, Florida. She professed to be a minister of the gospel, but was in the “God Business.”
She treated my brothers and sisters like animals. I had a brother whom was gravely injured by my older brother; he drove a truck over his head and almost killed him. Which I think would have been a better outcome, considering the quality of life he suffered from then on. My sister fared no better at her hand, my older sister discovered sex at the hand of one of my brothers and became devoted to the ancient art, the middle sister became the secret agent, doing what everyone else was doing, but professing to be the good girl. Spending her life in guilt and being the punching bag of my brother-in-law. The third sister was embittered by what was her fate, chief diaper changer and sitter. Forced by our resident rapist to submit to his advances, she on the other hand was a strong personality and did not submit for long. To this day even though he has asked for forgiveness, she holds him to the fire.
It is as she says”you went on my hip, when Mother died.” This is one of the reasons I feel I know nothing of Love. I have this seminal vision that pops up in my dreams…I’m reaching up to someone, crying with my butt hurting and a dirty diaper hanging off my ass. Her and I laughed, when I told her of this dream. Over the years I wondered why I was not aggressive with her as I was with my other siblings. She could say anything to me and I passively reacted to her desire. In 1996 she and I sat down she explained “you bonded with me when Mother was gone you went on my hip.” “I am your Mother.” This statement explained a lot to me about our relationship over the years.
She was a hard pragmatic individual, not much joy in her, Not much Love to give. She is a product of a Loveless Childhood and a Loveless marriage, therefore a Loveless Life.I understand why each of my siblings made haste to flee from my Grandmother and Booster. One a bitter old woman who made them responsible for their own Mothers’ fate, the other a dedicated thief, always after the money.
A word about Booster, Pimp, Dap Daddy, Player always on the money. This ass approached me to use my VA housing benefit to purchase a house which he would have found some way to swindle me out of. This was the nature of my Mothers’ brother. He swindled even his own family. When my grandmother died she owned several lots in the Lower 9. Booster along with a local lawyer and the undertaker Glapion attempted and eventually completed a scheme to get control of her estate.
I observed an incident one day while at my Grandmothers house. My brother Casey, whom was gravely injured as a child was home from one of his trips to the hospital, living in the “Junk House” what we called a 12 by 14 foot building in the yard. I observed my Grandmother preparing on the stove grits and chicken necks; something I had seen her prepare for our pack of dogs. She put butter in the pot stirred it and told me to take it to Casey when it cooled. I did a double take. This is for Casey? Of course I did not say this to her, but within myself. She had a roast in the oven for everyone else to eat. Casey gets chicken necks and grits everyone else gets beef. It hurt then and even today ; I hurt for my gentle brother. Casey always treated me with Love and affection. He is the only one of my siblings which showed genuine Love and Affection. He called me “little joe” in a tone of voice which conveyed his true feelings for me. I lament to this day, what was the purpose of this life. A life filled with rejection, fear and angst. My sweet brother suffered throughout his life from lack of Love. He had a fearsome look about himself and hulking presence, but was gentle as a soft rain. Unless he was drinking, then he was subject to rages. I was the only one who could comfort him in his angst. Casey died in 1994, only to be given another outrage on his way out He was in the hospital suffering from kidney failure, the secret agent was his guardian so it fell to her to provide permission for his health care. The doctor stated he was in need of kidney dialysis, she denied him a chance to live and he died an agonizing death. The secret agent then perpetrated another outrage, she refused to tell where his and another brothers ashes are buried. Why this outrage I haven’t been able to figure out. I do know she had both my brothers in life insurance and she got paid. Again a product of our family’s “Lack of Love”