Kountry Lyfe

Haven't written anything in a while. Life has been kinda busy. So far I have gotten positive and negative feed back about this blog. There are many whole feels as though this should stay private and the world doesn't need to know me this personally. I believe that in writing this blog, I can finally get everything off my chest and hopefully move on to being truly happy. so with that being said, where was I last time?? oh yea, I was talking about my childhood abuse. Now its time to lighten the mood a little, because not all my days in Jamaica were horrible. I was living in a small town called Clarks Town, in Trelawny. It was very rural, a very far cry from Flatbush, BK. My aunt Sis owned land, on that land she had her house, her daughter Rose's house and three houses to the front which she rented out. my Uncle, Mr. Gordon, I never called him anything but that, I don't know why was a mechanic and he worked from the yard. My aunt also had a grocery store attached to the front of the house and that is where most of her income came from.We had pigs, chickens and a whole back yard filled with many different trees. We called it the Garden. Everyone knew every one, it was the kind of place where as a kid you could to all your neighbors houses for dinner, because it was just that close knit. There was no washing machines, no cable anything like that. I had to wash my clothes by hand with a scrubbing board, most Caribbean people will know what that is. I will tell you this though, there is no fresher scent that having you clothes dry in the sweet breeze that is a constant o the island. I quickly made friends with the kids that lived the closest to me and every evening would consist of us all out side running, playing hide and seek, cricket, football( soccer) , marble or just simple ring games. it was these moments that made me the happiest, carefree, just a child having fun. Even now as I sit here remembering I have a huge smile on my face, and a slight pain in my heart because sometimes I wish I could Go back to those days. Every Saturday I would go to the market with my aunt to get the supplies we needed for the week. Even though life was hard there, it was peaceful. I finished 6th grade and was accepted into William Knibb High School. Shortly after I started high school my uncle got sick, I now know that he was suffering from Alzheimer after a few months in the hospital he passed away. I can say that his death did not really affect me too much because at the time he was still a relatively new person in my life. My aunt was never the same after he died. She started accusing me and Sandy of stealing her money, her drinking got worse and pretty soon, we were sort of fending for our selves. I Sill made it a priority to make it to school each day and after my first year of high school, I was first in my class. Sandy and my aunt got into a fight one day over money and my aunt told Sandy that she had to get out. So it was just me and my aunt. In the year 2001 I came back to Brooklyn for  the summer and decided that I did not want to go back to Jamaica. I begged my mother to let me stay, she spoke to my father and they both agreed that I could stay. When My aunt heard that I was not coming back she didn't take it very well. She told my mother that she was very selfish, how could she take me away when she knew that i was all she got. My aunt passed away a few months later, I was not able to go to the funeral because my mother said there wasn't enough money for two tickets. The one and only time I dreamed of my aunt was shortly after her funeral , in my dream, she sat beside me in my class, looked at me and shook her head and said " you couldn't even come and see me one last time??" I never dreamed  her again and to this day I strongly believe that I somehow broke her heart and that is why she died so quickly. So In the year 2001, I was Back In America, and that was the last time I saw the island of Jamaica.