March 03, 2005
going again tomorrow
I went to see mama today. I think she knows I was there, but I'm not certain. She was in that netherland between consciousness and sleep most of the time. Her best friend Joyce and my Aunt Peggy are taking care of her, and they're doing a good job. They talked her into drinking some liquid morphene last night, and mama kinda likes that stuff. She quits hurting and she sleeps a lot.
Her dog knows what is happening and "Fancy" (a four-pound Yorkie who knows no fear) ended up at the vet's office yesterday, because the dog is unable to cope with the stress. Imagine a cat doing that. I can't. Mama has had Fancy for 11 years now and the dog SENSES that something bad is about to happen to the person she loves most in this world. The dog is freaking out.
Hell, I am, too.
I'll go back again tomorrow. After I cussed my shitass son on Saturday for not calling his Mamaw, he finally called last night. That turd. He's got a lot of his mama in him, and that ain't a good thing. Jennifer made visiting pretty much out of the question a year ago, but now the little shit won't even pick up the phone and call his grandmother when she's dying. That's fucking pitiful.
I'm going to have a big drink of Barnett's citrus vodka while I cuss my worthless son and my bloodless cunt of an ex-wife. Maybe I'll cry a little bit. Maybe I'll just get shit-faced and pass out on my couch.
But I'll be back to see mama tomorrow.
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