Sunday was just awful. My brother requested a cherry pie for his birthday present and I obliged but it was dropped on the way to he car and the glass pie plate shattered. Not thinking straight, I began to clean it up from the drive way and trying to hold back the tears when the dog came up beside me and I glimpsed what  I thought to be a piece of glass among the mouthful of cherry pie and crust!

Sunday night is my turn in the week to spend the night with my Mom and tend to her. She was diagnosed with ovarian cancer in October but never took the biopsy tests for definite results/answers. As she is 86, she just wanted to go home and die. Eight months ago and her heath is going down down. Pretty soon she will not be able to walk. She may or may not have ovarian cancer, but she does have an advancing tumor in her abdomen area that resembles a basketball size at this stage. She is in constant pain from a variety of ailments and old age.

She is ready to die.

So I left the dog in Joe’s care and he took him to the emergency animal hospital way out on the Outer Loop and I headed to Mom crying the entire way.

I have not had a good cry in some time and as bad as the day was unfurling, it felt enormously satisfying to cry. I was crying for my financial situation (have zip at this point in the month and going to overdraw at the bank with the payment for the emergency care), the crumbling of my marriage in the face of retirement, my alcoholic husband which is the reason for the marriage going south lately with so much time on his hands and so much beer to consume, my mother, my daughter who is a drug addict and I am paying for the treatment and it was the major cause of my financial situation, and I am certain there are many other nagging emotions that caused the dam breaking.

$190 later the X ray reveled no glass or at least they could not find it. Joe gave Jax way too much mineral oil and the poor dog was in agony all night with the shits and Joe could not sleep either.

Then Mom’s next door neighbor, age 70, dies unexpectedly. Her husband left her taking a nap – I believe she had just had some minor surgery resulting a a raging headache, and when he returned she was gone.

My brother, the one who will now not have a cherry pie for his birthday and I were sitting in the living room when I heard the fire truck, the ambulance, the first responders all in our yard and next door. I ignored it while we talked and then when I looked I realized something was tremendously wrong outside!

Paul, one of the neighbors from down the street was crying surrounded by a tight group of new neighbors who just moved into Fag’s house across the street (Fag,his nickname from highschool) had passed away recently and his house taken over by relatives. Anyway, Rachel was dead.

When I was putting Mom to bed and the inevitable 230 wake up to change her and clean her, change her night gown and rub her painful joints with $30 pain reliever cream she recited her most recent prayer “Lord please take me” and I maybe unintentionally saying it out loud but thinking it all day long, “I think the Angel of Death got the wrong house”

Such a long sad day. 


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