During the time I was dealing with losing my job and sorting out the issues with my friend, a family friend came back into my life. She and my mom had been friends since they were kids, I’d known her since birth, and we considered her family. I’d grown up calling her my Aunt, her children my cousins, and so on. She and I had always been close and I was very fond of her. She had always been a unique individual, free-spirited, or what my mother liked to call “flaky”. It wasn’t unusual for years to go by without hearing from her. I’d wonder how she was doing and would eventually track her down. I had done just that earlier that year in May, a couple of months before losing my job. We talked every few days from then on.
About a month later, I was talking to her during the hour-long drive home in the early morning hours from my ghost tour job in Saint Augustine. She confided in me that she was in a horrible living situation and desperate to get out, but had nowhere to go. I called her back the next day after talking it over with my husband and invited her to come stay with us. The plan was for her to stay as long as she needed until she had saved enough money to get her own place. I was excited to have her come and stay, but there was an uneasiness in my gut when I thought about it. Figuring it was just the idea of someone living with us causing it, I made the call anyway and brushed it off. Unfortunately, like so many times before when I ignored that inner voice; what I now call my soul voice, I made the wrong decision. I remembered her as a sweet, nurturing presence in my life when I was a kid, and as someone I could always talk to, no matter what. I felt my kids would benefit from her being around since I intended to return to work full-time when I found another job and she’d be there with them when I couldn’t be. They’d have another adult with a positive presence in their lives. She’d benefit by getting out of her current living situation and have a place to stay with people who loved and appreciated her, and she could save up the money to start over. She offered to help out with the kids, cooking, etc., in return for staying with us. I figured it was a win-win situation for all concerned.
She arrived December 1, 2012. She’d changed her name over the few years that passed from the last time I’d seen her until I tracked her down and called her in May. The day she arrived, she asked that we not call her by her former name. She reasoned that it bothered her because she’d been through hell and having coming out on the other side, she felt that person was long gone. In hindsight, I can see where the red flag should have gone up for me. After all, I’d known her all my life as that person. Chalking it up to one of her many eccentricities, I didn’t give it much thought at the time. It felt strange and awkward calling her by this new name, but wanting to respect her wishes, I compromised and just called her “Auntie.” I would find out her name wasn’t the only thing that had changed since I’d seen her last.
…next…new year…new life…part 2
soul posts 