You won’t see this until tomorrow, but right now it’s 8pm on October 4th, 2010. I have to research and write a paper that is due tonight (a midnight deadline). For the first time in the history of ever, I will turn in a poorly written, substandard paper – and I’ll turn it in late. This is more important.
Each year for my mother’s birthday, I try to write something on my blog that will amuse and entertain her (and you). When you’re poor and your mother buys herself whatever she wants and you suck at gift-giving, you have to use what you’ve got. What I’ve got are words. At the moment, though, what I have are tears – tears of frustration and fear and despair – and yes, anger. Tears of exhaustion and tears of faith.
My mother had a stroke this weekend. Actually, she had two strokes (because one is just never enough). Yesterday I wrote down the words for Unconscious Mutterings and took them to her. I asked if she wanted to play and she said yes. When I got to “I am :: ” She said, “The queen. And don’t you forget it.” For the first time in the longest three days of my life, I had hope.
My mother is my best friend and my champion. She is my hero. She’s wise and silly and intelligent and wry and mellow. Don’t believe me? Click the links and see for yourself:
I love you, Mom. When you’re better, we’ll party like rock stars, okay?