Essay About Family: The Wives' Tales

I am convinced that my mother and my father found solace in each other because they could no longer bear the madness of their brothers and sisters. Most of my aunts and uncles have second names to mark their exceptionality. My father’s eldest brother is called “Urgent” because he only calls when he needs money and always tells the kids to leave the message: “Urgent. Urgent, tell your dad to call me back urgent!” My father’s youngest brother calls himself “Castro” because his first name is Fidel. This brother shaves his head and wears a goatee to look more like the real Castro.

My mother’s brothers and sisters are no better. One of Mom’s brothers married a woman named “Daughter,” which is just beyond me. Really, her parents must have been at their wits’ end; I wonder whether they had so many daughters that they surrendered to making all the children’s names alike. Mom’s sister, Rajo, “Auntie Money,” is the most fun, especially during tax season when she tries to convince her accountant to get her a deduction for all the gifts, trips, and baubles she buys her nieces and nephews.

Chandra is the most laughable of Mom’s seven sisters. Aunt Chandra is always trying to pass her “pearls of wisdom” down to everybody, making herself look foolish to great public audiences. In Guyana, she held an elite position at the national post-secondary school, teaching who knows what. I often wonder at the ignorance and superstition behind the things she says. At one of our frequent dinner parties, the ladies in the kitchen were having a conversation about motherhood and how hard it is to choose between staying home with their kids and going back to work.

While everyone else settled down to eat, Chandra, Mom and I busied ourselves making pepper sauce, cleaning the clutter off of countertops and refilling bowls of food. Conversation halted as the clacking of spoons, smacking of tongues, and the machinations of eating and drinking supplanted the lively chattering. Chandra took the opportunity to offer up a piece of her mind: “You know, guys, I have always noticed that I had my kids when there’s a full moon. Babies can only be conceived under a full moon. I am telling you, those scientists don’t know it yet. But I know.” I could not keep myself from laughing.

Amazingly, Fidel’s wife, Nadira, reproached me, “No, it’s true.