Nonsense

uncle leander and aunt leola used to stop by grandma’s house every sunday after church. he was her oldest living brother and as far as i could tell there was no way they came from the same parents.

uncle leander was dark as tar, had big black eyes, a permanent scowl and downtrodden demeanor. grandma on the other hand was mocha, soft and approachable.

anyone from the outside looking in would have pegged uncle leander and aunt leola as slaves from the 1800’s. they talked, dressed and acted like they were hiding from the master.

at least that’s how they seemed to me.

uncle leander always smelled bad and grandma said it was on account of his growing up picking cotton in the fields and learning to live with the sweat, dirt and stench branded to his skin. i wondered how aunt leola found the strength to kiss him without gagging. it never dawned on me til now that maybe she just didn’t kiss him.

those kinda thoughts were kept inside cause they were judgmental and grandma would worry i was meddling too much into adult things if i asked any more questions.

she never treated him like anything but family and for a lot of years i didn’t understand how she could act like their normal was her normal but eventually i learned it wasn’t an act and that accepting people as they are was the best way to keep your heart, home and dinner table open to love at all times.