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{Reservations} {Tickets} {Map} {Photos} {Souvaniers} {Postcards} {Design} 2002-11-15 | 9:01 p.m. It is paramount that I write down this stuff before I forget, Dairy, so please bear with me: *wimpering and whining* MOOOOOOOOOm, please, please (pant pant squirm) can you stop QUESTIONING everything I say????? *wimperywimper* In the Lobby Shop after I tell her I'm buying her some new earings she's been wanting: (to the clerks) "Excuse me, can you please turn off this elevator music? It's making my *wimperwhinesqueek* leg hurt. *fidgetwimpersquirm* Ok, this was the funniest thing I've seen in quite a while (if you don't count that time I walked by Mrs. McG*****'s room and saw her standing with her walker in a lovely sweater with matching earings, necklace, little black loafers and a crooked smile. Yep, bucknecked from the waste down) At one end of the jewerly counter, I stood trying to quickly ring up my earring purchases and get her out to the car, and I looked up to hear grumbeling and see her chair sloooooowly moving....moving.... inching toward the exit because the music was making her leg hurt. Mind you, she didn't want to even grasp a cup of water to raise it to her lips during most of her stay, because well..she "broker her leg-don't-you-get-it?!?" Cara and I laughed until we were unwell when I related that charming little interlude this morning. The kid has been through hell, no doubt. She's experience more pain than I've had to endure to this point in my life, so I won't begin to question how hard this is for her. When seen thru the cool, unattached glasses of a stranger, this all seems funny. Very funny in fact, so much so that I'd have to cover my mouth and turn aside while squeezing back giggles and gawfaws. That's what part of me wanted so very much to do. So, I did. Sorta. The other part, the mother part, was horrified and wished for the ground beneath us to open and swallow us hastily. So that part choked back tears of humiliation. Quite a picture, huh? This woman all giggles and red-faced and tearing up, barely able to hold herself together. Have you seen her lately? Yep, that was me. At least Tiffany has a reasonable excuse for her behavior. What was my excuse? I talked to my mother in a similar way from the time I was 12 until about 20 minutes ago. Every time I was tired or hurting or over-stressed or disappointed, she got it right between the eyes. Well, of course. Everything was her fault, no? If she had the sense not to marry a 17 year old boy when she was 34, this all wouldn't have happened. I wouldn't have been born, but that's ok because I wouldn't have known about any of this and she could have had a shot at finding happiness. But she gave it up when she married him. She gave up her future and ours too. Isn't that what I did when I married a known bi-sexual, bi-polar man? Yoke yourself with the wrong person and then just shut up and deal with all that goes with it. Because you deserve it. Anyway, she's taking oral meds now and seems to be doing much better with them. The morphine pump just made her dopey, paranoid, nervous, and miserable. Miss These? absence of life - 2003-07-28 |
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