Brush With Death

In my family all significant family legacies can be found in the unspoken. All our
morals, values, and stories are unknown and found out through little quips. The best
and only way that we communicate is through jokes and laughs. So when I was at my
grandparents house watching TV and a documentary about the infamous Jim Jones
came on our family’s first response was to make light of it with a joke. Jim Jones was an
American preacher who came to my family’s home country of Guyana. It was there that
he led a cult and ultimately orchestrated a mass suicide through cyanide.

Jim Jones is infamous in our country so my family all had a general

understanding of who he was. What we hadn't heard was my grandmother's
involvement with it. That was until my grandfather snorted out a joke about my
grandmother's brush with death. A weird silence waved over the room. This untold story
left all of my family in the room awestriken. Even my aunt, the eldest child and the
holder of most secrets in the family was speechless with shock. This silence was broken
with a series of questions.

“Wait, what is that supposed to mean?” My mother rushed out in wonder.

“How is Nana related to Jim Jones?” My cousin exclaimed.

All of the questions were silenced when my grandmother hastily explained

herself. The story is as follows. My grandmother was living in Guyana and was around
17 years old at the time. She had heard from her friends about the mysterious Jim
Jones and was going to check him out. She was amazed by his reputation as a prophet
and healer of all sicknesses. As a future nurse and follower of God my grandmother
was drawn to him. It wasn’t until her mother, my great-grandmother, heard of her plans
that was discouraged. My great-grandmother was always known as someone with a
sense for things. She even predicted my gender before my mother knew she was even
pregnant. So, my great-grandmother knew there was something off about this Jim
Jones guy. She told my grandmother to not even think about going over there and that it
wasn't safe. This happened only days before everyone was poisoned and died.

After we were told this story we all sat there in silence. My great-grandmother
died when many of us were very young. We had of course heard stories of her but
never about how she essentially saved my grandmother’s life. An atmosphere of grief
filled the room, over sorrow for not only my great-grandmother but also for the many
people in our country who faced a horrible death following this corruption. This fog of
silence was broken when my uncle coughed out a laugh.

“Mom I can’t believe you’ve always been this crazy and it's not just something
that came with old age.” He breathed out through the laughter.
 His joke was followed by chuckles from everyone in the family. I love my family. I
love how even through grief and sadness we are able to find happiness. We are always
able to find a way to laugh.