Hot Child in the City

I was surprised recently when I received a FB message from a family member I hadn't talked to in years. It was my most favorite aunt!  I was a little girl when she was in her late teens, and she would take me everywhere with her whenever I visited my grandparents during my summer vacations.  She was more like a really cool big sister than she was an aunt.  She was beautiful, fun, and had lots of friends, and I completely and utterly idolized her.  We went to Disneyland and Knott's Berry Farm together every summer.  She would also take me to the roller rink with her on Saturday nights (don't judge- it was the late 70's!)  There were always lots of guys who wanted to skate with her, and she always found a boy close to my age for me to skate with.  (The last song of the night always seemed to be Reunited by Peaches and Herb.)  I was totally horrified at the thought of skating with a boy, but she wouldn't let me say no.

My aunt seemed to always have fun.  Always.  And so I had fun as an extension of that.  The Nick Gilder song, Hot Child in the City, always reminded me of her, even though I was too young to fully understand just how fitting the song really was.  As I got older, things changed though.  She didn't have time for me anymore, and I was heartbroken.  What I didn't understand until much later, was that my beloved aunt had become a drug addict.  My family protected me from that information for a long time, until they no longer could- until I was old enough to understand the things being said about her in hushed voices.  My beloved aunt drifted away from the family for quite a long time.  She did things, and made choices that everyone judged her harshly for, and she broke my grandmother's heart.  What I knew then, and what I understand even more now, is that it was the drugs that pushed her to those choices.  Sure, she chose to start experimenting with drugs, but her addiction wasn't completely her fault.  She tried to get clean many times, but it never seemed to stick.

The last time I saw my aunt was in 2001, at my grandfather's funeral.  She was angry at everyone.  She had been angry with my grandfather for several years, because after my grandmother's death in 1997, he would no longer bail her out of her troubles.  The last place she wanted to be was around any of the family, and the judgmental glances directed at her.

My aunt and I have exchanged several messages now, and she is definitely not the same angry person she was 13 years ago.  Her mistakes have taken a toll on her, both physically and emotionally, and I could tell she was worried that family members may have poisoned me against her.  I assured her that I didn't care how much time had passed, or what she had done since we last spent any real time together, and she seemed content with that.  I can also tell she has deep regrets for how her life has turned out.  I hope that I can give her a small amount of peace by accepting who she is today, and not pointing out the mistakes that I know she is already so painfully aware of.