A Study In Forgiveness
She was going to be the 2nd person I thanked if I were to ever receive an Oscar for Best Song.
If ever.
She was going to be the 2nd person I thanked if I were to ever win a Grammy for Best New Artist.
If ever.
She was going to be the 2nd person I thanked if I were to ever win a
Juno for Best Jazz Artist.
If ever.
She was going to be the 2nd person I thanked if I were to ever win an Emmy for Best Guest Starring Role…for Mad Men. It would be the episode where they tackle
interracial relationships of that era and I would have to lock lips with Mr. John Hamm.
I would give the role my all.
I knew that she would demand top billing, but God was going to be the first.
And no one fights with God.
And so it seems, Possums, there is something wrong with my Massa/Capitane/warden/mama/my mother. The doctor thinks that she may have gotten the Cancer. And with my Aunt who just recently passed away, is this thing airborne????
My sister called me to give me the news. I asked her is she was sure that she got the Cancer or is the doctor just testing to see if she has it? My sister wasn’t sure because my mother naturally couldn’t explain herself over all her crying.
You see Possums, the reason why I have to ask my sister, is that she, my mother, tends to exaggerate a lot.
I was in the middle of a doctor’s appointment when I received a frantic call from my mother that my sister had died
and had to be resuscitated back to life. I later found out that she never died and that she simply passed out. No one touched my sister’s chest, not even the paramedics that evening, except maybe her man.
I was on the way to visit my parent’s when I received a call to come home quickly that my brother had slipped into a coma and he wouldn’t wake up. I arrived to see fire trucks, an ambulance and a cop car surrounding our house. I ran inside only to find that my brother had passed out due to sheer exhaustion from a soccer game. There was no coma, just a fever and chills.
Or there was the time when we were little and my mother couldn’t find my brother in the mall. She feared aloud to all around her, even to the security guards who had to shut down the mall that my brother was probably being molested right now as we speak!
Possums, at the time, I didn’t know what being anally raped was. My mother did though, cause she tore my brother’s ass up when she found him in the arcade playing games.
I’ll have to give her that one, though.
“Now look at that!” said my sister over the phone.
“What, fool?” I asked.
“Is it me, or weren’t you the other day stating something to the fact that you had a red dress waiting to be used for this woman’s funeral?”
“Yes, I may have a red dress, but it is waay way back in the corner of my closet.”
“Humpf!” came from my sister.
“I didn’t even buy shoes to match it, yet,” I tried to explain. “Cha-cha, you know that no matter how I joke I love that woman.”
And then she asked me to follow her and my mother to the specialist’s office next week Thursday.
I ask you to say a little pray for my mother, Possums. It would mean a lot to me.
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