My cousin Tamara was always somebody who I looked up to, even if she put mustard on her french fries.
That was my first memory of her. We were at the ski house and I must have been around the age of three. Tamara had spent a few years out west, living, skiing, (snorting), who knows what else. She must have been in her late twenties by the time she came back, and yes she is my first cousin. She was down in the main lodge and we had to meet up with her.
There she was, my beautiful, blonde, big brested, skinny, oh so glamourous cousin. But she put mustard on her french fries and that was gross.
One time Tamara made me a box when she came to visit. It was real pretty, with my name drawn on it. It was the place where I kept all of my really special rocks and shells. It was hidden on the attic stairs. Evertime I opened it I wondered at my cousin’s artistic abilities.
She married a really rich man and I was a flower girl. I had the prettiest flower girl dress in the word. It wasn’t too over the top, in good taste and everything! It was white and had puffy sleaves. It came to my mid calf and was adonrned with only a couple bows. It was easy enough to play in. My fellow flower girl was my best friend Kendall. She lived in Baltimore, but she came to my ski house on weekends that she could.
A year later, Kendall died. She was burried in that flower girl dress. Tamara was at the funeral too. She was there alone. Her husband didn’t even come and it was talked about. I was only eight, so it did not mean all that much to me.
Then Tamara had Sydney. During the winter she brought Syd down to the ski house with her husband. No body had ever seen such a fuss about a baby. I, being the youngest, had never had so much contact with a baby and was thrilled to have her as my own doll for the weekend.
It wasn’t too long before Tamara divorced her husband. My parents told me it was because he was a bad man. I found out later that it was because he beat her. I don’t think that they were very nice for each other. But Joel was a very wealthy man and he made it so Tamara had almost nothing.
Tamara came with Sydney to stay for a few weeks in Rochester. I really got to know Sydney even though she was probably only eighteen months or so. I could already see her personality and was surprized when I found myself thinking that she was just like her grandmother.
Tamara went out while she was in Rochester. She knew everybody in the world. If she didn’t know you, she’d find a connection to some common friend. She was charming and every one wanted to know her.
I geuss things settled down for a while. Tamara started coming with Sydney to the ski house on a fairly regular basis. I was usually left responsible for Sydney while her mother either had fun or was asleep. And later Sydney was responsible for her little brother Tyler who was five years younger.
I went on vacations with Tamara. She really did know every one and she really was glamourous. She was pretty and fun and a skier! When I was fouteen and in VT she took me to bars and met all kinds of facinating people. I didn’t think that I had ever expiernced anything better.
Around the same time my parents started making comments. They said that I was just lik Tamara. I knew that they did not mean it as a compliment. By age thirteen or fourteen I knew that Tamara did drugs. I knew that despite always seeming so rich and wonderful she had awful taste in men and was probably a bit of a slut. I knew that she didn’t take care of her children as well as she should have.
I also knew that she loved her kids a lot and that she was popular in a way that was far beyond what any high schooler could dream of. I suppose I wa torn between wanting to be like her and be nothing like her.
Then things really dissolved. Now Tamara finds herself three children all of different fathers. She is in a half way house to the best of my knowledge. She hasn’t seen Sydney in over two years. The poor girl is twelve and she doesn’t talk to her mother and she doesn’t want to. But she also isn;t allowed contact with the rest of us either.
Sydney talkes to me online though and she is my special little cousin and I feel so sorry for her.
But I also realized that I am nothing like Tamara. I would never let that happen to my kids. I can’t even stand to let it happen to her kids! I would love to have her talents, but I’d die to have her flows. I think I will only be Erin anmd I don’t think I will have as much fun as Tami, but I also won’t have as horrible consequences.
I geuss I don’t look up to Tamara any more.
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you condemn Tamara but without the compassion that makes her or you a true character. has she overcome anything? where was your family to help her? it’s easy to see and magnify the faults. what of the good things. it seems to me her life seemed charmed and sometimes that charm turns to a curse. beauty, popularity, affability can all be charms turned curse.
no mother wants to abandon her children, and no one want to become an addict. perhaps her financial disaster after a terrible divorce forced her into more and more desperate situations with increasingly unsavory men. if this is true, then i must put you on the stand. where were you to help her? riding her exciting coattails? perhaps you helped perpetuate her dysfunctional behaviors.
very well written, and terribly heartbreaking. i feel for Tamara. i don’t feel proud of your self-righteous resolve to do better.
Short, sweet, and sentimental.
Instead of saying “if” try “when” concerning mustard and french fries because it makes more sense.
“Sydney talkes” misspelling
i like mustard on fries…..
typo – r girl dress in the word. WORLD. you’ll get plenty of others mentions about the typos. I won’t. PLease use a spell checker.
Your writing is easily understood and with some work you can make it much more effective. The story is sad and unfortunate but it seems as you have learned from it. Maybe your friend Tamara will rise again and become a better person, a better mom. i believe that people CAN change. especially if they have hit the bottom. Your description of your bridal dress. (bridesmaid) was very well described. please try to polish your work. The ending came rather suddenly, I think you could probably use another paragraph or two – to build up to the end. I am a strong believer in re-writing. some people are not.
Wow. Thanks for sharing. Other than a few typos (sorry, it’s a habit to correct them), you did a really nice job of sharing your experience. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to deal with your situation. I am sure your cousin appreciates being able to stay in contact with you. What happened to her siblings?
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