one day at a time

Twelve steppers will tell you that it's the only way to go. I became one of them back when I was in therapy and battling all sorts of demons from the past. Oh, it was nothing bad like physical or sexual abuse, but it was pretty tough work all the same. I'm still learning, if you know what I mean. Take today for instance.

Mama called me at work today and she was crying uncontrollably...you know. The UGLY cry. She went to the doctor last week and told him that it was happening pretty often what with her disabilities and daddy's "mental status". Evidently he failed to hear what she was saying when she called me today..."I feel like I'm coming apart!" I don't know about ya'll, but when my mama calls crying I'm outta there and going to see what's up. For the first time in her 76 year old life, she told me that she thinks she needs help, meaning someone professional to spill her guts to. Something more than a hug and the grocery shopping will take care of.

As with your family, there are things that were never discussed because they were shameful...like feelings. She grew up as the overweight oldest child of three in a household that had plenty of money for extravagance like household help. She married just about the poorest sharecropper's son she could find because he was honorable and loved her to death. Daddy has spent his life busting his farmer ass trying to make her happy when only she can do that. Too bad she grew up in the fifties because she would have made a very nice hippie :)

BG and I met up at the shelter today to visit the dogs and cats for Christmas. They barked and sniffed and looked at us longingly but Butterbean wasn't there. I gained a whole new respect for the staff of this volunteer organization by coming in as a repeat customer. No...it's still two dog night around here. But that might change this weekend.

^j^