Mom got hateful again today because I wouldn't play along with her delusions of going home. It's not really a game when the one player believes that the place on west main still exists and Paul still lives there in the room in the back that always smells like Latakia. Along with everyone else so I have been given the spiritual task of letting mom know there  just isn't a home to go to. These moments only last minutes and she would be back normal. Mom is not ever normal anymore there are times where she can resemble it and that's enough. 

Mom spent the last three days in her room sleeping. I came to see her and would just sit in her room watching TV while she slept. I finally got her to leave her room today. As she wheeled up to the gang in the middle of the building they all hooted and hollared her return to the middle table of nothing to do. I felt good though for mom getting some acknowledgement for still being there at eighty years old. 

I don't have to worry about getting approval from the table of nothing to do, they all think I'm a weirdo painter who holes up in the room doing god knows what. 

You deserve some fucking anger. 

He was right. I deserved some fucking anger especially from him. My asking for help was out of control. I was now having to ask for mom's sake also and continue asking from my sake and it was now a position of need where he was all there was. 

I was trying to be the good son and to appear like I could get things flowing through love via my brother Nathan. 

He was right. 

I knew exactly what I was doing and it made me feel like  a whore. I couldn’t stop myself. It was part of my disease. I would find myself feeling dirty and promised myself that I would never do it again and feel good that the last thing was being delivered today or  tomorrow. 

Does sickness or disease warrant special treatment and that's only if your benefits pay for such things. Let me assure you I paid a high price for my benefits and they don’t cover anything.  I've got a private room right now but I m not guaranteed that. To  continue a private room with my benefits I would have to shell out something like  hundred and seventy five a day. Not month mind you , it's a day. I receive monthly one of the highest amounts through social security and it would only pay for  private room for a few days. Oh but wait they need payment for the shit food that I don't eat and the laundry that doesn't get my clothes clean. and know its not the facilities fault. They are conditioned by federal standards that are decided by bean counters who have never had to figure out how to get by on what they require as allocated funding.  I'm fucking amazed what the employees do that is beyond what is required. Out of their own frustration theys shell out their own money for example, to pay for my mother's haircut, seven dollars, and my brother and I could cover this but they took it upon themselves to do this. My mother looked pretty homeless when she got here. 

I'm betting I looked pretty homeless when I got here... 

Been a couple days. Hell for all I know it's been  a hundred years. I keep having these moments of panic, best as  I can call it, the panics begin with me feeling cold, very cold, that kind of cold where it feels like the men from the National Research and Development, NRD, has just issued a blizzard warning and you are right in the middle of it without the proper attire.  

It was karaoke night again. possibly one of the worst karaoke's I have ever been to but I go and participate because well, I can sing.   Mom went and sat there quietly drinking her diet Pepsi and eating the cookies having the world that she knew as real drift into oblivion. She started asking questions , "where do we go after this, what movie is on at the theatre tonight, what do I do when I wake up tomorrow, when is Nathan stopping down, I'm confused Gunnar, It's the worst part of growing old." 

Tomorrow I will be sixty one years old. Nathan and I are amazed that I have made it this far. I so miss the adventures that Nathan and I and his boys have been on. 

Nathan is ready to give up completely on our other two brothers and I understand emphatically. 

It all just breaks my heart. 

I sit here petrified that I will be alone. There will come a time when Nathan isn't there and my daughter won't be there. I will be all alone. I will like so many of them in here die all alone. I don’t  want to be here when mom dies but I probably will be. I have paid my karma through this little adventure as new doors open every single day. 

 

Views: 53

Comment by Zanelle on January 22, 2016 at 11:14pm

Play along...validate her fantasy and move on quickly just like you do with a two year old.  No use fighting.  be kind.  Karma goes on and on and you can build from your base now, especially in your situation.  cool art...thank you.  we are all alone. 

Comment

You need to be a member of Our Salon to add comments!

NEW BLOG POSTS

Ship Spotting

Posted by Robert B. James on November 20, 2018 at 4:48pm 0 Comments

Tailwinds

Posted by Robert B. James on November 19, 2018 at 6:30pm 2 Comments

The Hide and Seek of Racism

Posted by Ron Powell on November 19, 2018 at 1:00pm 3 Comments

Baby Donald has a tweetstorm tantrum!

Posted by Dicky Neely on November 18, 2018 at 9:19am 2 Comments

Abandoned

Posted by Doc Vega on November 17, 2018 at 2:51pm 0 Comments

To Sink Into

Posted by Doc Vega on November 17, 2018 at 2:48pm 0 Comments

The Age of

Posted by Doc Vega on November 17, 2018 at 2:30pm 0 Comments

© 2018   Created by lorianne.   Powered by

Badges  |  Report an Issue  |  Privacy Policy  |  Terms of Service