April 6, 2017
I remember living at the house in Orlando. The house was on Nana avenue. Id later return to visit and create some very nice memories, but not until a few years later.
Everything was fine here for a while. I remember mostly being in the kitchen – flashes of bottles being filled, memories of being fascinated by water flowing from one plastic cup to another. I remember tasting water and milk from those plastic cups. I supposed these are fairly normal first memories for anyone – getting to know all my aunts and uncle and my grandad and grandmom for the first time! Eating meals together…
Next thing I know, I’m being put in the kitchen by a friend of the family, as I was being carried away I saw two men pulling a table on wheels into the house. The lady who was the family friend was Rosie. She made me Spaghettios (I think), gave me milk and basically comforted me. I don’t recall how good my talking was yet, but I remember communicating.
“What was scary sound? Who those men?”
Rosie poured me some cold milk in one of those plastic cups. “Nothing sweetie, Its all okay”
My grandfather came into the kitchen. He was trying his best to smile, but he was crying. He came up and hugged me.
“Don’t cry granddaddy. Let’s all be happy. Okay?”
He tweaked my nose like he always did and attempted to smile. I’d never seen anyone cry like this and it scared me. What could have happened? Where was everyone? Mama, Phyllis and Barney came home and were already crying and screaming what happened. Obviously, someone had called them. Marsha was living with Carter in Augusta but showed up the next day. I was luckily taken out of that situation and stayed with Rosie that night.
I’d find out as soon as I could understand such things, that my grandmom had killed herself while I was in the house alone with her.
Faye Raulerson Brinson put the muzzle of a gun in her mouth and pulled the trigger.
Mental illness wasn’t accepted for what it is now. If she had the meds and therapy we have now, this wouldn’t have happened. Unfortunately, I find that I can say that statement about quite a few people in my life.
I barely remember Faye Brinson, but I miss and love her almost as if she was a mythical creature. My mama was given her name “Faye Clarice” which makes her special to me. Based on some of her early pictures, I think grandmom wanted to be an actress… That makes me feel good!
To be continued
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