my mom

So my mom called me a lot last night...I was on the phone with her like once an hour all day yesterday and into the evening and then she just kept calling and by one-thirty in the morning she was calling in a panic, sobbing.

My mother has been like this my whole life.

She used to insist on coming in my bedroom and she would tell me really sick weird things were happening.

I thought the things she was telling me were true.

It's taken me my whole life to even begin to unravel what she told me from what is true.

She told me a lot of bad things about myself.

I'm beginning to see that the things she said to me about me weren't right either.

"All things are mine for I am loved".

That's what I believe now.

There's no point in indulging all of our worst instincts to make sport of her insanities.

I'm not going to tell you all the twisted things my mother has said over my lifetime, but I will tell you....

that last night was a doozy.

She's been calling the police a lot.

The last two times they called her an ambulance and sent her to the emergency room.

I have told her that I think she's going to be getting a very expensive bill for those two ambulance rides in the past week.

But she can't make it through the night because she's so scared of the imaginary people and what they're going to do to her.

They whisper to her, they shout at her.

They threaten her.

I can only imagine that she is losing a life long battle to stay on the side of sanity.

That's what it seems like to me.

There is a medication she's been subscribed but she's afraid to take it when she's alone so she hasn't yet.

It's supposed to get rid of delusions.

She would take it maybe if I was there and stayed there with her for the night.

I don't want to be alone with her.

I've always been afraid of her.

I'm afraid of what she'll say to me to hurt me, but much more, I'm afraid to be around her insanity.

It makes me feel really bad.

Probably because I was the victim of it as a child.

Also, honestly, I've thought of staying overnight in her apartment with her to prove that everything's okay, but she tells me that "they won't come around if you're here".

And I don't want to start sleeping at her apartment, but I may stay there this weekend to see if we can get her on the new medication.

She doesn't want to move.

She lives about forty minutes drive from me.

My children and I are her only living relatives.

She's not rich, but she's not poor.

She has enough money probably to last her until she dies if she doesn't live too long.

She's eighty-five.

One thing all this makes me think about is the humans on this planet right now who are dedicating all their waking hours to finding a way to live forever.

Are those people crazy too?

Live here on this planet in your current body forever?

Why?

Why is that what they want?

Don't they see the course of Nature unfolding before their eyes every day?

Don't they see the death and the new life?

Don't they think that when your body is done your soul is set free for a new experience?

I know we don't know what that is, and I don't believe anyone who tells me they do know, but still, it seems promising enough to me that I plan to die willingly when my time has come.

Also, immortality aside, when we give someone like my mom heart medicine that she's taken now for fifteen years, are we doing her a favor?

Maybe she would have died in her sleep at eighty-two, before her mental illness symptoms became unmanageable.

I don't want to live forever.

I don't even want to make my body live longer than it's supposed to.

On to the new!

That's where my head is at this morning.

I have no intention of dying right now, don't get me wrong.

I feel very optimistic about my circumstances and my artistic possibilities.

I'm going to stick around because I really don't know how this movie ends!

Okay, that's my story today.

I'm going to go for a jog along the Great Mississippi River.

Nina and I are going to drive over to my mom's and bring her a fresh loaf of homemade blueberry bread with crumble topping that we made last night.

Then I'm going to come back home and take a nap.

Last thing.

Rob is a super human kind man.

He has weathered my storm of wanting to move away from him and his house to get away from the grieving of my dog Aidan's death.

He is forgiving me for that.

He works out of his little studio now at night instead of across town at his big studio.

He mixes and masters now in the garage studio at the back of this house.

It was a big adjustment for me, one that I thought might threaten my own sanity.

But now I like it.

I even love it.

Last night, Rob answered the phone every time I called him, me in the house up in bed and he out in back in his garage space, to tell him that my mother had just called me again.

He patiently talked through all the scenarios with me.

That guy.

He's a great man.

Not just anybody could take on a woman like me and hang on for the ride.

Moreover not many men could wrestle the wheel away from me and steer the ship for me when I am blinded by my fears, my grieving, my discouragement.

He's a great man and today more than most days, I'm grateful to be living in his safe cozy house.

Love to you, my friend.

Keep your head on straight.

And be glad we don't live forever in these bodies of ours.

The best is yet to come.

Always.

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