Okay, here we go… My uncle climbed a tower in santa fe.
I grew up with lots of cousins. A few were older, most of them were younger than me.
My childhood was spent in Santa Fe. A weird place to grow up, looking back. Of my …many cousins, I was the fifth oldest. Two of my older cousins live in Santa Fe, the other lived in California (I think), and the other older cousin lived in Tennessee.
Wait… did the one that lived in California live in Santa Fe? Typing this, I think she did. At least for a little while. Maybe she went back and forth from Santa Fe to California.
I remember asking her about the freeways in California. California cities and population density of California urban areas kind of blew my mind. Her stories of twelve lane highways filled me with wonder.
But, yeah. Lots of cousins everywhere. Most of my time was spend with the second oldest, but occasionally I’d go with other aunts. Never uncles. Uncles were kind of absent.
Except for this one time when my uncle took me ice fishing. I don’t know how old I was, but I was very young. If we were in New Mexico, chances are we went to Eagle Nest Lake (https://wwwapps.emnrd.nm.gov/SPD/ParksReportingPublicDisplay/WebDisplay/Detail/37). As far as I know, that’s the only lake in the state that gets cold enough to ice fish.
My uncle’s approach to getting to the fish was very unconventional. Even I knew this as a very young kid. I think there’s probably protocol to getting under the ice, and it’s not finding the best boulder from the shore and proceeding to bash it into the ice. Right? That sounds dangerous.
I’m not sure why my parents let me spend time with my uncle… or some of my aunts for that matter.
I ended up survinvg the ice fishing incident. But, then there was more fun to be had with uncles and aunts.
I remember going to one aunt’s house and spending the night. Sleepovers were a big deal in the 90s. I don’t remember having a good time, however. My cousins were allowed to do pretty much whatever they wanted, and that did not involve cleaning their apartment. The environment was very chaotic to my child brain. I remember feeling uncomfortable being there. Even now, it gives me unpleasant feelings.
I was quiet. I didn’t speak up for myself. Something I’ve kept with me to this day. I think I’ve gotten better, but as a kid I would rather stay silent and suffer than speak up to express what I needed. Don’t know why. There’s probably some explanation that points to trauma or whatever. But it was how it was.
One of the most uncomfortable memories I had was when I spent the night at their apartment and the kids decided they wanted to watch a Freddy Krueger Movie. His face is etched into my brain. I did not want to watch the movie. I didn’t want to be in the room and hear the movie. I didn’t want to be in that house. I just wanted to go home. But, I was stuck.
Stuff like that.
Aunts and uncles suck. At least mine did.
One time, an uncle of mine got into a craze and decided he wanted to climb a radio tower off of Agua Fria Rd. You know? Those tall towers that have bright blinking red lights on them at night? Those ones. This particular uncle was determined, or convinced, that he was a wrestler. Not the olympic variant. The ones on WWE (then it was WWF). But, he wasn’t athletic. He just liked to scream “I’m awesome!”. I think he was probably just drunk or high or both.
But, yeah. He made me feel uneasy. And he climbed the tower. At least he said he was gong to. I don’t know if he did or not. He probably didn't. I bet he just passed out.
I didn't like going to their apartment. In fact, I hated it.
Santa Fe gave me a variety of memories. Many of them I’m fond of. Those memories suck.
We were locals. Been in Santa Fe for generations. Our family wasn’t typical. Education wasn’t encouraged. Success wasn’t even mentioned. My uncles and aunts lived to party. They did stupid shit when the kids were around. Said stupid shit when the kids were around. They were horrible examples.
When a different uncle of mine would sneeze he would also sneeze the Spanish word “Puta” at the same time.
The word is not a good one.
Google’s definition:
- (in Spanish-speaking regions) a prostitute.
- a woman who has many casual sexual encountersor relationships.
I didn’t like that guy. Still don’t. He stole from my Grandpa, and my parents.
So, now that I’m living in this space… I wonder how this has shaped me as a person. Maybe it isn’t all bad. I know that I find it easy to set boundaries now. I don’t want anything to do with that sort of dysfunction I was exposed to as a kid. I have no problem skipping family get-togethers. I have no problem saying “no” to have my kids hang out with the family crowd. And I know that I have control of where my kids are. I can stick up for them and advocate for them, remembering that I didn’t have anyone to advocate for me when I was a kid.
Not sure why, my mind goes to this image, (generated by Bing AI) when I think of my uncle climbing that tower.
