Chicken and Cheese

My Aunt Pam was one of my first friends in the way that only an aunt or uncle can be. She was like a parent but without all of the rules placed on me at home. I don't have a first memory of her, but I know a little bit about what she was like before I was born. She's my dad's younger older sister and was a majorette back when it was cool at Phillips High School near Phil Campbell, Alabama. She was married, had a kid, and divorced. During that time she was also diagnosed with Diabetes, which gave my grandmother M'Lynn style Steel Magnolias freak outs when she was pregnant.

Her home was built on the same land that the house the grew up in was. It was a cute little yellow house that stood out with the large amber fields and beginnings of the deep green forest in the background. She lived right next door to my grandmother, so I'd often run between there two houses and the dirt path and through the grass barefoot enjoying the beauty of Alabama under the stars that are hidden in the city. It was one of the most naturally beautiful places to me as a child.


Growing up I would always stay at her house when I went to my grandparents' because she would let me stay up later and her son was allowed to have video games, which I was not due to my mother's fear of me losing my imagination. I agree with her now, but at the time it was a nuisance. Every morning my aunt would bake frozen chicken fingers and melt a small slice of cheese on each of them to go with biscuits and chocolate milk. After mornings filled with cartoons, she'd let me pick how I wanted to spend the day. That was the best thing about her. She let me be me when I was there. I could ride on the swing outside her house or play Mario Party all night long with her as Yoshi and me as Princess Peach. Along with my grandmother and cousin, we'd go to every McDonalds to collect Teenie Beanies and stand outside of Walmart to try to get a Furby while stopping at every flea market in Northwest Alabama. All of these things were such simple pleasures that I feel I sometimes lose in my love of urbanization.

While I was in elementary school an probably before, my aunt had a plethora of complications because of her Diabetes. She had transplants and portions of her feet and legs removed and ended up having more surgeries than everyone else in the family combined, but she would always try to stay positive in front of me. I know she wasn't always successful, but it meant a lot that she was able to comfort a child when she was the one going through so many difficult changes. She would always tell me that I needed to find her a body shop so that she could get a new one to replace the one that was falling apart. One time I actually thought I had found one and told her all about it, but it was just a body shop for cars. I do remember that every time she had a big operation my dad would make a movie for her about that operation. The best way for him to cope with the gravity of the situation was humor. I always had at least a small role in these home movies that we'd send her. My mother even participated once and will be glad if a copy of that film never resurfaces.

As I grew up, we became less close than we had been when I was a child. We still talked and spent time together when I visited, but I had a younger brother and cousin that she focused on because that was her niche. I still fit in just in a different way. I was too large to share her bed or to make her play with Barbies. Instead we made a brain out of Legos for a Psychology project in high school and talked about what I was going to do with my life. In April of 2011 her house was destroyed by one of the tornadoes that tore through Alabama on the 27th, and she was forced to move to Chattanooga with my grandparents without getting a real chance to say goodbye to the place she had lived her entire life. It was while at her house that I was offered my job at Red Cross, and it was for her and all the people affected that I took that job. I hated seeing that place that brought me such joy as a child being devastated and unrecognizable.

My aunt passed away during her dialysis treatment this morning due to complications with her heart. I am so glad that I was able to see her over Christmas and talk to her on my birthday. It feels so weird not to be with my family at a time like this. I know there is no movie we could make to bring out humor. She wasn't always perfect, but I admire her for what she went through and had to deal with as a disabled single mother in rural Alabama. I already miss her but know that all I need to do to find her again is to preheat the oven and slide in a tray of frozen chicken fingers with slices of processed American cheese ready to melt on top.