Annmarie Throckmorton, M.A.
- Jun 24, 2018

What Beautiful Babies They Were!

The very moment that I saw the twin sons of my sister Carla and brother-in-law Bob, I loved them. Tristan and Jason were so healthy, so full of vitality, so beautiful! I had never seen such magnificent babies. I said, “Their heads are so big!” meaning their life force, their brain power, their perceptions seemed to be very big, expansive, as in these are very smart babies. My sister snapped at me, “That’s enough.” as if I had insulted them, and she snatched them away from me.

I never saw them again, until once in passing when they were grown into teenagers, and I saw them at our parents’ house. I had not known that my sister was there and had come to make dinner for our parents. I stepped forward happily to shake hands with my nephews and introduce myself, “Hello, I am your aunt, Annmarie, I am pleased to meet you.” They seemed interested in meeting me, but before we could shake hands, my sister Carla flew into the room and began beating her sons about their heads and shoulders as if they had done something wrong. She forced them to sit together silently on a bench while she packed up to leave the house. I did not interfere, I knew of no way to make such irrationality better. From previous experience, my sister Carla would only beat at me too, and I would be forced to scuffle with her to hold her off.

I never saw my sister’s (now three) sons again, until once when they were grown well into adulthood, late twenties I think, when one of them came quietly into my parents’ house when I was there. His eyes glinted with ill-will when he saw me come into the living room, my car was in the garage so he had not known that I was there. When I said hello, he did not answer, so I continued on with whatever chore I was doing. He soon left. I am sorry to say it but I felt that he was scoping out my parents’ circumstances to see what profit there might be in it, for love or money I do not know. He seemed to hold his grandfather, who was drinking, in contempt; and his grandmother was lying down in her bedroom avoiding him.

I suppose I still love my sister’s three sons in principle, but primarily I am afraid of them because of how my sister Carla, and my brother Peter who is very close to his nephews, have taught them to view me with extreme distortion. I must face the fact that in my old age they will not act as family to help or even comfort me.