My Life In Transition

Dear Bernice

You being my mother’s child makes you my sister, which forces me to retain some level of respect for you, even when your arrogance overrides your knowledge of the facts.
Ever since you were a child you have been besotted by an inveterate propensity to speak beyond the scope of your knowledge.
I am therefore addressing you from the position that you were addressing me contrary to your ignorance.
You my dear sister is the only one who can decide if you are actually speaking contrary to your knowledge.
I cannot take responsibility for the actions of my father, nor do I condone what he did to our mother.

While I am addressing the father issue, let me hasten to remind you that even though my father might have been a philanderer with a seemingly insatiable appetite for younger women, he was not the one convicted and sent to prison for embezzling money from Farm Grove Estate, are you conveniently forgetful of why you fled from Jamaica to England in shame, do I need to remind you?.

Belittling me for being educated and able speak English fluently and maybe even flawlessly, is testimony to either your jealousy, stupidity or ignorance.
You reveling in the notion that our mother was having an affair with Colin Miller, makes me wonder how you could have forgotten what he did to you at the Water Hole in Martin Town, thank God you were rescued from him by Vincent Cole, how old were you then 5 or 6 years old?.

For our mother to have known what he did to you and still habroured him at our house is beyond my comprehension.
I hope by now I am touching a nerve in the core of your hypocrisy
My mother has always tried to punish me with the hatred she had for my father, I have always peacefully endured it and never once have I been verbally abusive to her.
In your letter you mentioned that I like to “beat my own drum”, well let me beat my drum very loudly now and remind you of something you seem have also conveniently forgotten, when I was in Jamaica working with Mid Island Traders, I was always sending money to you in England to help you with your nursing school fees.

I am thankful to my father for ensuring that I had a good education, what are you thankful to your father other than the fact that he sired you.

My father’s money supported you when your father was in jail, he supported you even though he and our mother were no longer together, when he was working in Panama, every month he sent money to our mother which was used for your benefit as much as mine, when you left Jamaica and went to England, my father’s money was even following you across the ocean to support you.
The venom you spewed at me through the contents of your letter was not only alarming but extremely disheartening, what happened to the loving little sister who hiked with me up the Blue Mountains and spent weekends with me in the St. Catherine Mountains, the little sister who would take the bus with me from Papine to Redlight and hike up to Hollywell by way of New Castle.

What happened to my little sister who used be so nervous when I would dive off the big rock at Campbell Blue Hole in Stewart Mountain.
Bernice, there is no doubt that we bear the scars of a dysfunctional family history but we should never allow the memory of that history to adumbrate our minds, trammel our senses and retard the elevation and growth of our spiritual consciousness.

It may have been necessary for us vent our buried antagonism associated with our family history, let us now work to bridge the gap between us and harmony we should be embracing as a brother and a sister.

This is a time of great challenge not only for our family but for the whole world, we both said what we felt we had to say, please let us move on and look beyond what was and focus on what we should be as a family.

I look forward to your pleasant response.

Bernie