A Mother's Secret

It has been seven long years since I have seen my older brother Marcus and I am not proud of myself for that. It took the passing of our father to bring us back together. Family is so weird that way. We love everyone, but in the sad reality, no one seems to ever make time for each other. I am the youngest of three siblings and I would like to think that I was the most mature because baby, my older brother Marcus is a hot mess. Let me give you a little background on us so you can get a clear picture.

We were all born and raised in New York, no not the City, but the “sticks”. But hey New York, is New York, right? Anyways, we were raised on this large farm in Poughkeepsie and it was so beautiful. It was everything you could ask for; open space, lots of land and horses. Yes, yawl we had our own horses. I remember when my mom would sit with us on the front porch on hot summer days and we would laugh for days it seemed. We would run around mom blowing bubbles and just enjoying our childhood and Marcus was always up to no good with his friends; climbing trees and picking on me and Jasmine, but boys will be boys. Jasmine was so quiet, very inverted. At times I would think she was a mute because if you did not look for her, it was like she was never there, but we had a special bond that sisters shared. We even looked like twins; the resemblance was uncanny. Quiet or not, that was Jasmine, and I loved her. I have so many great memories of my mom and Jasmine, I just wish I had more time to love them.

About twelve years past, mom and Jasmine were on their way back home from our Aunt May’s house when they were in a fatal car accident. That was by far the worst day of our lives. Jasmine was just a baby; she was only fourteen. I remember being in the living room watching a movie with Marcus and dad and there was a knock on the door that startled everyone. I was around thirteen years old at that time and Marcus sixteen, and I distinctly remember dad speaking to the Officer and then buckling at his knees. Marcus quickly ran up to dad to see what was going on and when he turned to face us you could see the paleness in dads face. Mind you my dad was a nice mocha brown complexion. You know like, Boris Kodjoe. To see him like that, I just knew it was something bad.

Life went from being perfect too horrible after their passing. My dad got remarried to liquor. It was so pathetic. I mean, not to judge him or anything, but he went from being my hero to literally a “bum” on the street. He was literally broken and no matter how much me and my brother tried to be there for him, he just drank more and more. I really feel that we lost our father that night too. I always thought he would snap out of it, but that day never came. So, me and Marcus was literally on our own.

Our beautiful farm went from being wholesome, to having just dirt, no food growing, we also had to sell our horses, which broke my heart and eventually we had to move out because dad stopped paying the bills. I just could not understand because he still had two kids, but apparently the loss of my mother and sister kept him lost into the "further” which ultimately led to him passing of liver cancer.

Marcus and I moved in with our Aunt May when I was fifteen and she raised us until we were grown enough to move out on our own and stable enough to pay our bills. I was doing well for myself. I was at the top of my class in high school and when I graduated, I was lucky to land a job at eighteen years old, save up and eventually myself and my cousin rented an apartment together. Marcus, on the other had took after my dad. He just couldn’t snap back fully and even though he had a part time job and kept himself groomed, he started using drugs heavy and eventually Aunt May kicked him out because she caught him doing cocaine lines in the bathroom when he was twenty-one. I had to cut him out of my life a few years after, because he would come over to visit me at my new place and my purse would always be short the next day. I love my brother but got damn it we are all hurting, and I refused to be brought back down to the gloomy days of the farm.

So now that you are up to speed here, we are present day. I am twenty-five years old and Marcus is twenty-eight and I received a letter in the mail about a week ago requesting our appearance at our old home in Poughkeepsie. The letter was from this mid age married couple that had moved into our old home and in the mix of unpacking found some of our belongings. Marcus and I met up on the weekend to take the hour drive back “home” and when we got there, we were greeted with two boxes. I am not even sure where they were hidden in the house because I thought we did a fairly good job of cleaning out the place when we left. I must say, it was a weird feeling being back at the farm, seeing a new family happily living the life that was once ours.

On our way back to the city I started to look through the smaller box and found pictures of all of us as a family. It has been so long since I laid eyes on mom and Jasmine. They were so beautiful. So many memories. I could feel my eyes starting to weld with tears, so I decided to put the pictures to the side and keep on exploring. The next thing that caught my eye was my mom’s journal. I remember seeing her write in this book all the time. I could not believe it. I finally had a piece of my mom that I could hold on too. I showed Marcus but he did not appear to be too interested as he blasted his favorite song by Big Daddy Kane on the radio “I got it made”. As I kicked up my feet in the passenger side of the car and began reading her little black book, an envelope fell out. I opened it up and too my surprise, the envelope was filled with money. Twenty Thousand dollars to be exact. I quickly signaled for Marcus to pull over and even though I was reluctant to show him the money and share it because of his drug usage, he’s my brother and It was only fair to share the blessing that my mom left behind.

My mom was always looking out for us and this is just another way that she came through right in the nick of time. Marcus and I sat there on the side of the road for what seemed like an hour trying to wrap our heads around it. Why would mom have a random stash of money laying around? Was she saving up to leave dad? Was she living a double life? I was so confused. I do have a faint memory of hearing them fighting all the time when they thought we were fast asleep. Now my mind was in over thinking mode. As I continued to inspect the box, I came across a passport and plane ticket. The name on the ticket read, Alberta Brown. It was a one-way ticket to Jamaica. The weird part of it all is my mom’s name was Ivette. As I dug deeper in the box, I realized that there were no more passports. Where was ours? Even though I was happy to find money because you know money is always good. I was left feeling even more hurt and confused because it appeared my mom was living a secret life or looking to start a new life. Now I am full of questions and no one to give me answers. That’s the thing about family, you think you know them, but they have a way of surprising you, even after they are no longer here.