Aunt

Ever since we moved into the apartment, Aunt has been there. See, I was never a well behaved kid growing up. With the addition of a little brother, things became even messier. We moved out of a house and into an apartment right before the birth of my brother. I don’t remember anything specific about the new home but the fact that it was smaller and newer. Something I do remember, however, is that Aunt came to our apartment. 

Aunt is a housemaid my mother hired after we moved. We did not call her by her name, we just called her Aunt. As far as I know, she is not even anyone’s aunt, especially not mine, nor my brother’s.That is what we called her anyway. I can not remember how long she lived with us; long enough for me to think certainly that she is going to be there tomorrow is all I know. Aunt is a kind and thoughtful person that has always taken care of me and my brother. That is something I knew ever since the beginning. When mom is not home, which is most of the day, Aunt was the only one we leaned on. Almost every meal I ate for my entire childhood had the taste of her hard work. 

“When mom is not home, which is most of the day, Aunt was the only one we leaned on. Almost every meal I ate for my entire childhood had the taste of her hard work”

I only have vivid memories of that time of my life. Maybe that is because nothing really stood out to me, who was still trying hard to learn and absorb this world I live in. Over the  years, the taste of her delicious meals did not change, but my attitude towards her did. A twelve year old kid going through a parent’s divorce and school dramas has a lot of frustration that can not be expressed. He started being mean to people around him. The kinder and closer the person was to him, the more he reflected his emotions on them. Especially on Aunt. He realised that no matter what happens, the meals will still taste good and the house will still be clean. This sense of power, plus the ignorance he had, made him feel like he was somehow better than her. He almost forgot that Aunt works for his family after years of living with her, but now he remembers. A bit too much salt on the chicken? Interrupting when he was working? All of a sudden, everything Aunt does for him seemed imperfect, and he had to point it out and make it seem bad. 

I have always been into making model cars and ships. It gives me a sense of satisfaction. If his anger and frustration is the fan, Aunt accidentally breaking a model car when cleaning is the sh#t that hit it. How dare she break the most precious, beautiful, masterpiece of a model car! Which happens to be one of the one hundred that he has made and already forgot about. He yelled at her and screamed. He had convinced himself that he cares about the car and is sad about it being broken. Aunt stood there like a rock, her face expressed barely any emotion. She looked sad, she did not know what to do. When mom came home, she knew exactly what was going on. She looked at him, who would not stop complaining, and looked at Aunt, who stood there once again, like a rock. “If that Aunt can’t clean up well enough, why don’t you clean up your own room?” 

Needless to say, that only made the relationship between Aunt and I worse. 

I went to a boarding school and came home on the weekends. Occasionally I think of Aunt. Everytime I do, there is a slight sense of guilt I feel. I never really end up doing anything about it when I go back home. However, the longer I go without doing anything, the more guilty I feel. I keep telling myself that I am going to apologize, or at least do something nice for her, but I never had the “chance” to do it. 

Once I came back home after a long week. My mom opened the door instead of Aunt. Mom told me that Aunt’s mom is sick and she had to go back home and take care of her. I expected her to come back, but that hope faded away as time passed. I never did anything nice to her, I don’t even remember the last time I saw her. When mom leaves, it is just an empty apartment now. After years of living in it, the apartment felt strange to me again.