Not a great way to wake up, truth be told. I slept in. If you call insomnia until 3:30am, then passing out till 8am, sleeping in. I made coffee. Checked the blog. One reader. Thanks whoever you are (It was probably me).
I click on the TV.
Food Network.
Always!
But the Food Network must be run by aging, pot smoking, hippies cuz it's one of the only channels that takes the wee hours off and doesn't wake up till 9:30.
I perused the 200's, the movie graveyard for those of us fortunate enough to grow up in the golden age of the 80's. The decade that produced nothing, added nothing to American culture, (probably weakened it), and was the only decade that said, "Sure, its fine keep it short in the front and long in the back."
The Jazz Singer caught my eye. I pressed select.
You see, Neil Diamond was one of my mother's favorite singers. He, and Bob Seger, filled the airwaves of my dysfunctional home in Peabody, MA. It was a time you knew it to be OK to come out of hiding and enjoy a little free roaming without the threat of taking a beating. She'd sashay, cleaning, chain smoking, and singing. She always got the words wrong. No, Mum, it's not sweet calamine, it's Sweet Caroline.
I'm pretty sure it's sweet calamine. She'd argue.
Yeah, Mum, he's singing about a mosquito bite.
For all her short comings, she was, and is, my hero.
I miss her dearly.
Cancer took her. Or more accurately, she invited it to take her.
So I spent the morning crying. I texted my sister Jess, but she undoubtedly had the same sleepless night, a family affliction. Maybe because it was anything but peaceful. I remember waking at 2am by the sounds of Mom, drunk, taking my door off its hinges, swearing at the screwdriver for its inability to work in her drunk, unsteady hands.
"Mum, why are you taking my door off." I asked, ignoring the fact that 12 hours earlier I was suspended from school for telling a teacher to go fuck herself.
"Cuz I don't believe for a second that just cuz you're sleeping, you won't fuck something up. I'm taking your door, you get it back when you're not grounded anymore. In like, 50 years."
She lied. I was out in two days. Mom didn't suffer fools well.
So fuck you, cancer. Eat a fat bag of dicks!
You took the one person who could save me from myself.
1 comment:
did we talk that morning lol Im so greatful bry to have you in my life..nobody is going any were anytime last night was the worst i feel 3 times once i was standing infront of my bed and once in the bath rm and the other time i was in the kitchen my knees are all black in blue the far of laying down is a hot mess im dealing with...any how im so happy to see u back on line typing away..call me anytime love you bounches JESS blessed be!!
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