dear mom,
so, this is day three of me on these head-meds…
and as you well know…it gets pretty interesting around here with my brain on these “drugs”…
this morning still in bed, i was telling my honey very important (to me) things…and relying on him to fill in the words my brain couldn’t land on with (for example) a simple…“it starts with a “p”…”
and then…for some unknown reason…when i hollered out…“fourteen!”…the number of the day from an old “sesame street”…he just rolled right out of our bed with a…“that’s the drugs talking!”
and so i laid there…all alone and pathetic…pondering all the funky things that i’ve done…but mostly said…while taking these things!
why, just yesterday…i was having to explain myself to a dear idaho friend…
about how this drugged brain had told me to wish her a “happy birthday!” on tuesday…so i just sat right down and started to write her a note. but then one small part of my brain (maybe one small sliver not all foggy) made me glance up at our calendar…and even lock on to the date. which nudged the rest of my brain even to question…“it’s april 30? gayle is a birthday-month buddy with me? but i thought her day was may 3rd?!?”
and then i still proceeded to write…and then send her…that note!
and the next morning, as we were still rubbing the blur from our eyes…j. said, “it’s may day!”
and i just shot straight up…“it’s may first! but i think i said “happy birthday” to gayle yesterday!”
and that’s when he said, “oh, honey…you can blame that on the drugs!”
and i told her about the time…after grampa richard had been in heaven for well over a year…i looked right at my father-in-law and asked, “how’s grampa doing?”
and when he just stared at me all-in-shock…i just looked over at j. in confusion…and he just said, “honey…your drugs…”
and…of course…i had to tell her the…classic…“this brain’s on drugs” time…
have i ever told you?
about how…that time 4 years ago now…when niecy and i were looking through pictures of little you still living in frisco. and she was telling me all that she knew about how sick you were so often your whole first four years…
and we were especially drawn to that sad little picture of you turning three…
6-year-old auntie standing next to you lying in bed under covers…all utterly rosy-cheeked with fever…so frail with pneumonia…your little birthday cake perched right on your lap…the three candles still smoking from having been (probably with auntie’s help) just blown out…
such a sad little picture of sweet little you!
and i was so engrossed in her stories…so utterly mesmerized by that photo…that i just looked at her and asked…
“did she survive?”
and she just looked at me…
and said…
“our mother?”
oh my…
but i’m so glad that you did! survive…
and i know i will too! this pain will subside…
it always…eventually…does!
and in the mean time…these drugs sure do help me to cope!
but i think i might just stick to myself today…just to be safe!
this brain…on these drugs…just can not be trusted!
there’s just absolutely no telling what else it might make me to do…
or heaven help me…
to say!
very sincerely,
me
– my little mama aboard “pamela” on frisco’s bay (1948)
