Cloudy, With a Chance of Happiness Written By: Amanda Bunker Dr.

Carol Lipszyc Eng 333

Little and big secrets silence, unsharing from shame, for protection blank spots in the telling of our story Carved off areas sometimes casually shared As if we knew, forgetting the secret the missing words names crossed from address books pain pushed down Missing memories scraps of childhood undiscussed. -Family Secrets by Raymond A. Foss *** Family means no one gets left behind or forgotten. -David Ogden Stiers

As a young girl, Tammy was my best friend. She was nearly my age when she met me 18 years old. It only took me ten minutes to love her. I would sit on the couch with her and slowly twirl her tight black curls around my chubby two-year old fingers. I would always try to stick my fingers in her mouth because they had the constant smell of dill pickles. She hated it. As a toddler I was afraid of going to the bathroom. I had to have Tammy hug me, arms wound tight around my small belly while I did my business. If she didnt appease me I would cry because I was scared that I would get stuck midway through going to the bathroom. Then of course, when I was finished, she had to flush the toilet for me (while I ran away) because I

thought I would get sucked into the small dark drainage hole of the toilet lost to the septic system forever. Tammy would meet my mom in my small town of Dannemora tucked into the heart of the Adirondacks to attend Sunday mass. Our family took up a whole pewsometimes overflowing into a second pew. As I sat there next to Tammy, admiring the colorful cathedral style stained glass windowssending beams of sunshine to illuminate to dim church, I knew I had to try and pay attention to the priests sermon because Mom was going to quiz me on it after. So I just remembered one sentence and that was usually good enough. It was early October when Tammy became my Aunt Tammy. Tammy married my Uncle Tracy at just 20 years old. I remember Aunt Tammy wanting to take a picture with me sitting on her train. After all, I was her first baby. When people wanted me to sit on the train I tried to crawl away, and when people didnt want me to sit on it I would want to crawl onto the silk and organza and see my Aunt Tammy. When my Uncle was trying to get the garter off Aunt Tammys leg, I stumbled over to him and sat on his lap. People were laughing but I had no clue what was going on. Thats when Mom came and scooped me up and carried me away. I have tried countless times denying this, but there is physical proof on videotape. My early memories of Aunt Tammy and Uncle Tracy are distant, much like the suns rays peek through a cluster of cloudssometimes they do, sometimes they dont. There are snippets of this part of me life that I can remember clearly as if they happened yesterday, others that are just thatcloudy. The bits and pieces that I can remember are times filled with warmth of a familys love and happiness. We were a familytight knit. We would have family game nights and family dinners. Holidays were the one time of the year when we would get all the relatives together in the same place. They were filled with low-volume melodies of Christmas

music and a tray full of homemade Christmas cookies, fudge, and peanut butter balls. My Aunt Sharon escaped her hectic work environment, my dad was home from hunting camp, and my sister was home from college. Times likes these seem so long ago. My aunt and Uncle have two kidsSami and Devin. During this part of my life, I only knew Sami until she was three and Devin until he was six. After that my aunt and uncle moved to North Carolinabut not really. That is what she calls itgoing and coming back from North Carolina. It was at this time when my aunt was diagnosed with clinical depressionalthough we didnt know it at the time. There were many thoughts that crossed our minds when my aunt excommunicated us as a familymost importantly, how will it affect the kids? Right before my aunt left for North Carolina it was my cousin Devins sixth birthday party. Everyone was there, both my uncles side of the family as well as my aunts side of the family in addition to a few of their close friends which I can honestly say I was afraid of (at the age of twelve). When everything fell apart, I was teaching Sami how to color. Devin and some of his friends were playing cowboysor something of the sort. My cousin pretended to put a gun to his head and shoot himself. That is when Moms maternal instinct came to life and she spoke her mind. Although it was just an excuse to diffuse her bottled up anger, Aunt Tammy accused my mom of trying to tell her how to raise her kids. Everyone knew it was just a big misunderstandingeveryone except Aunt Tammy. After that day, there was a long period of time when there was no sun peeking through the clouds at all; there was no happiness. The sky was overcast. We didnt talk to my aunt, my uncle, or their kids for seven years. There were times when I would see them in passing, only to be met with hostile glares. Just silence. After a while, Sami and Devin lost any sense of recognition of who their family was, including me. Sami was like the baby sister I never had. The image of her is forever

ingrained into my memory of her running into my aunts kitchen to where I was sitting at their kiddie table. I held my arms out to her, and she came running to me exclaiming, Manda! (because she couldnt say triple syllables yet) All of that was lost foreverso I thought. There should be no fear when it comes to family. I was afraid of my auntmy aunt radiated fear. Her dark hair matched her dark heart. Her eyes were cold and full of hatred.In high school and I had the opportunity to observe a classroom where my mom works, Morrisonville ElementarySamis school.. I was in Mrs. Chases Kindergarten classSamis class. Sami was six by then. It broke my heart when she didnt know who I was. She was that same little girl who came running to me yelling Manda! Somehow I kept thinking that I would turn around and she would be running into my arms when I least expected it. She never did. At the end of the day, I was playing with the kids on the carpet; we were doing puzzles. I will never forget the day she learned who I was to her. Okay, I said to all the kids, Lets see if we can finish this puzzle before its time to get on the buses. I found a piece! cried Sami. Thats great, Sami Jo. Lets see if you can find another one. The young girl whose light brown curly hair I once knew as pale blonde wisps of curls looked up from the puzzle to face me with a new kind of puzzled look. How did you know my name was Sami Jo? I know youre name because I am your cousin. What other choice did I have but to tell her the truth? I wasnt about to let her be forgotten. I wasnt about to let her forget me. For the remaining minutes before the buses came, Sami clung close to my hip like a fawn remains close to its mother. It had been three years since I was able to feel that maternal bond for

her. I felt guilty about letting her get so attached only to have to get ripped away. She was so young to understand any of what was going on. I literally got ten hugs in a matter of fifteen minutes at the end of that school day. With one last hug, and an I love you, Amanda, I watched her walk away. I love you too Sami Jo, no matter what. It was another four years before any of us saw or heard from them.