My Middle Name is Alexander

As I sit in this busy coffee shop waiting for a friend, during a chill October morning, I start to listen to music to drown out the coffee order of those around me. I listen to music to quiet the noise of the coffee maker, to ease my mind, to slow time down. The song that made me want to write this was The Smiths — There Is A Light That Never Goes Out.

Oddly enough, this song brings back a lot of memories. Memories are hard for me to remember. I spoke to my therapists and she believes this comes from trauma. When you are involved in trauma, you block out memories. When the brain creates memories in a certain mood or state, particularly of trauma, those memories that were created become inaccessible in a normal state of consciousness. The brain is a beautiful thing.

The memories that this song brings back is a time with my first girlfriend in middle school. She showed me a lot as a kid, how to kiss, hold hands, show affection. She was wonderful. We are still friends to this day. She has grown into a wonderful mother and woman, that has set goals for herself and has overcome so many hardships in her life. But those hardships have molded her to become who she is today. She still lives in LA and at one point we didn’t see each other for 10+ years. But we still kept in touch, we still celebrated each other, we were still each others shoulder to lean on. We still care for each other.

This song brings back great memories about people I love and miss. It also brings back feelings as to why I despise my middle name. I made a rule at the age of 17 that I will never use my middle name. Not because it wasn’t a good name, but because Alexander brought pain, shame, hurt, and embarrassment. It brought a weight on my shoulders that I didn’t ask for.

My uncle on my father’s side is named Alexander. From what I remember, he was extremely close with my father, to me, it felt like my dad was his mentor, his brother, his everything. Especially after the fact that they immigrated to the US around the same time. It was as if, they were all they had until they both had families. I don’t remember spending too much time with him growing up. It was only for special occasions if that. But in LA, even if you live in the same city, seeing each other would be tough because of the commute.

My thought as to why he wasn’t around much was because of how he was, he was a mirror image of my father, personality wise. Center of attention, bully, loud, fake confidence, and unfaithful. Those things didn’t mix well for my Mom. Especially when she lived with one of those people at home; my father. Because my brain blocking much of the memories about Alex, I asked my Mom for more information about him.

She told me that Alex was someone that took advantage of you. When he immigrated to the US. He began to steal cars and took them to chop shops until he was caught and sent to juvenile detention. At that point, my father did his best to help him out of that situation, because of juvenile detention, he was left to fend for himself. Because my father didn’t want him to be alone, he slept in the same room as my mom and dad. That’s how much my father wanted to help him. When Alex got back on his feet, he left to Colorado, he went to school and became a chef.

While in Colorado, my parent occasionally received phone calls from him where he would gloat about how he was living and how much money he had. But at the same time, he didn’t take care of his kids. I feel as if my father wanted that same life because soon thereafter, when Alex moved back to LA, my father and Alex reconnected. My mom wasn’t too sure about the time in between Colorado and moving back home, but she believed he should have stayed in Colorado.

Alexander came back into our lives around 2004. We met him at a restaurant where he was an Executive Chef, he showed us a great time, dinner with dessert, the LA skyline, new buildings being erected. It was an eye opening experience because the only reason we went to Downtown LA when we lived in LA was for the fashion district, and I don’t even think thats considered Downtown. Anyway, we were fascinated with the life that he allowed us to see. I think my dad wanted that life for us and right then and there he made the decision to uproot the family and move to the Midwest.

During the conversation with my mom today, she told me that she was 100% supportive of my dad opening a restaurant and improving the family’s living situation. Her only hesitation was the kind of restaurant that my dad would be a part of. She wanted him to open a hamburger restaurant or something small. But Alex convinced him to open a lavish overpriced Italian restaurant. The food was great, the location was terrible, the prices were too expensive for the demographic of people we were surrounded by. Within a few months, the restaurant failed. My dad had lost everything the family had. He lost the house, cars, savings, and a relationship with his family.

My uncle Alex saw the writing on the wall early and just left to Colorado. We haven’t heard from him since 2007. We believe he is still in Colorado. I don’t miss him at all, I just feel like he was a blip in my life. Didn’t bring much into my life. He was just there. I wonder what he is up to today. Part of me wants to have a conversation with him to see how he is doing, but what will that bring me? Closure? I don’t need it. I’ve forgiven him for the pain he brought me and my family. I do want to thank him for allowing me to see how strong of a woman my mother is. How her endurance fed my motivation to continue growing and maturing for my family. To support them they way she supported us through the times when we had nothing.

When I think about my middle name I become angry and ashamed. I made a rule at the age of 18 to never use that name. But why? I was named after my uncle, but I should wear this name with pride because of what I am building with this name. Not because of the history this name has, I don’t have anything to do with the history, only the future. I will learn to be proud of my history and continue to strive for a better future.

Julio Alexander Aguirre.