It
was Mother’s Day last month (I know, my postings are so far behind!), & I
got cards for all of my friend’s moms, as well as a card for Aunt Lena. Yes, Hallmark has a card for everything. Unfortunately, I think that instead of making
some women I like feel happy, I made them uncomfortable. I’m happy
that my friends have great moms. I mean,
some people I know have awful moms & my friends are fortunate.
And
I guess I didn’t think that Dor’s mom would cry when she got my card. Carl said his mom got misty-eyed too. Ruby’s mom called to thank me & we talked
for a little – she wanted to make sure I was OK & I told her I was. Mrs. R invited Aunt Lina and me to their family
barbecue & she told me she felt bad for me, not having my mom around. Then I felt awkward. I guess I can’t miss what I never had, and
Aunt Lina is the only “parent” I’ve ever known.
Aunt
Lina isn’t my “real” aunt – she’s my legal guardian. No heavy blood connection, although tribe
means family, the way I see it. It was
all set up legally as far as the US government was concerned. The Seneca understanding is that Aunt Lina
was chosen to raise me, and so they let her.
Let
me explain. You see, I don’t talk much about my mom, because it’s a biological
situation. My mother was a member of
the Seneca Nation; she had been raped, and pregnancy was the result.
I
know, it sounds like one of those theoretical examples that pro-abortion people
come up with as a reason to kill an embryo.
Well, I was an embryo, once. My
mother didn’t want to raise me, but realized that the Spirit had created me for
a reason. She gave me to the tribe.
Really. My birth certificate lists my mother as “Jane
D.” for Jane Doe, the name Americans give to unidentified females. I was born on a reservation to a midwife who
filled out the paperwork. According to
the official report, Jane D. gave birth in a home on the rez, and when the
midwife had her back turned, Jane ran away.
According to Aunt Lina, this was the story the tribe gave out
officially. The real story was that my
mother gave me up to the tribe, choosing Lina from the tribal elders to be my
caregiver. She felt that Lina would be
able to convince me not to go looking for her when I was older.
She
was right. I’ve understood about sex
since I was six, when I read a textbook about anatomy, physiology, and organ
system functions. I was eight when Aunt
Lina fully explained about the rape and all.
This poor woman – according to Aunt Lina she wasn’t much more than a
girl – had been violated once. Why would
I want to violate her again?
Aunt
Lina could have adopted me, called herself my mother and never let me know the
truth at all. But elders don’t do
that. The truth was the only way for Aunt Lina to handle things.
Aunt
Lina believes that the Spirits and the Saints were guiding my mother in her
choice – my mother was not a shifter, although there may have been shifters in
her family in the past. Not much was
known about the man who raped my mother.
Aunt Lina said that my mother refused to talk about the ordeal, and that
she really did leave the reservation as soon as I was born. Aunt Lina also explained that many people
grow up not knowing much about their biological parents and that some choose to
fill the void with people they know and love.
My aunt knows that I consider her as more than a mother – she’s my
mentor, my friend, and my guide in the way of shifters. Although she appears to be in her mid-to-late
forties, I’ve seen evidence that Aunt Lina is much older than that. I suppose that being a shifter gives her the
ability to appear young(er). Even
when I was younger I knew…Aunt Lina sometimes let things slip – like she
remembered when cars and telephones were new technology. She says I’m lucky not to have to deal with
the prejudices that were around when she was young.
So
we went over to Amelia’s and I had some delicious grilled burgers and Italian
sausages. I got to play with her younger
siblings and met her older brother, Salvatore.
He’s a couple of years older than us, but goes to a private school,
because he’s autistic or Asperger’s or something. He told me that he used to go to school in
town, but because he was “different” he’d been teased. His nickname, “Sal” made for a lot of
trouble, too – on the playground, he was called “Sally” and was accused of
being gay. One day he just turned around
and punched his tormenter in the nose.
It turns out that his tormentor was Jack Green, whose dad is the mayor,
as well as the best friend of Principal Knarf.
They expelled Sal for “excessive violence.” A lawyer friend of their family told Mrs. R
that she could go after the Greens and the school for allowing a “hate crime”
to happen. You see, even though Sal’s
not gay, it’s still a hate crime to pick on someone for their perceived sexual
orientation. Way to turn the tables on
the situation!
Now
Sal goes by bus to a school in another county, where he’s happy. He’s a math whiz and he plays the
saxophone. He played some pieces for us;
he’s quite talented. Amelia doesn’t
often talk about Sal, but I’d seen older kids at school tease her about having
a “retarded” brother. Sometimes she
ignores it & sometimes she throws a put-down right back at the bully. Funny thing is, Sal’s probably a lot smarter
than the kids calling him retarded.
Amelia
says that when Sal was little he had difficulty communicating and sitting
still. Now he prefers to sit quietly and
talk with adults rather than kids his own age.
He’s great with the little ones and they adore him. He gave me an awkward hug when Aunt Lina and
I left. Aunt Lina thinks he may have a
crush on me. She also believes that the Spirits
guide Sal, and he’s going to have an interesting life because of it. She says he’s got a presence about him, more
than just your average Joe with a guardian angel. I kinda get what she means.
We
didn’t stay out too late at Amelia’s, because Aunt Lina wanted go up to
Horseneck Sanctuary with me once the sun went down. So we ran together, bear and cat. Aunt Lina hasn’t been out too much lately, so
when we shifted, she was very cub-like in her antics. It was fun to see her rolling in the grass,
and scratching her back against a tall rock.
Sometimes I forget that NJ is different for her too.
She’s
not shifted in a few weeks, because it’s mating season for bears. She doesn’t want to leave her scent around
for males to find. Male bears travel far
and wide searching for a mate in the spring – especially younger bears. That’s why there are news articles every
spring about bears being found in suburban areas, wandering where they really
wouldn’t go, otherwise. There had been a
male tranquilized in Fallsview, which is two towns over, just last spring! And last winter, a female had been found under
the deck in a suburban backyard in Wayne!
We
had a few hours of fun, in the nature preserve.
We startled a few turkeys, and I even scented a pheasant, although she
was hiding well. There were geese in a
field, and there were streams running down the rocky hills, making pools for
the cricket frogs, toads and salamanders to lay eggs in. Aunt Lina munched on skunk cabbage roots in
her bear form – it’s a delicacy for bears, apparently.
All
too soon we had to shift back and go home. I did have school on Monday, and
needed my sleep. As Aunt Lina and I
walked back to the house, a passing cop car slowed down to check us out. The patrolman rolled down his window and
asked if everything was OK.
“Everything’s
fine, officer. My niece is just having a
little insomnia, so I figured we’d just take a little walk,” explained Aunt
Lina.
The
car rolled on, and we got home a few minutes later, at 12:30. And so Mother’s Day 2012 ended. I hope that the moms who celebrated had a
wonderful day. And my hope for those
whose path to motherhood was painful is blessed forgetfulness. I don’t want my mother to remember me if it
causes her pain. I’m just blessed that
she decided to have me at all.
Until
my next post…..
Randi
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