Tuesday, August 19, 2014

on being a good girl

I was born into a society where women were expected to be nice to everybody most especially the ones in charge. Submission was something to be valued for those women because very little else was expected of them. My own mother did work, however, and we were raised by neighbor women and family members who acted as nannies when she and Daddy were out of pocket. Margaret was one of them with her chocolate brown skin, freckles and braids atop her short body. Annie was the other and she towered over us, black as coal and sweet as pie. I didn't look at them as servants because they were not...they were my friends. When Margaret died from complications of diabetes we all filed into the little Methodist church on a hot August day, my youngest brother wearing a wool sport coat, bless his heart. Annie is still living in a retirement home in Lake county and gives me the biggest old hug every time we run across each other.

The revolving door that is geriatric care is becoming (one of) the biggest challenges to today's healthcare systems. They all consist of intricacies that are way beyond the skill set of most of the elderly and since it's Medicare we pay the bill knowing that when our turn comes? It probably won't be there. Ditto for Social Security. One of my friends offered to share a cardboard box with me when we get down and I laughed, but you know? It could happen. Ferguson MO is still a freakin' zoo even with the National Guard on the streets. Once again, my belief is that anarchy must not be allowed to prevail and if that don't play well with your homies, get on out of there. What is astounding to me is that the poll I read shows that black people STILL think it's a racial issue. I'm way more concerned at the military type tactics of the police in response to this situation. This morning I watched some chick from Florida doing target practice with drones that cost 45 bucks just to rebuild. Somebody has too much time and money on their hands while the rest of us soldier on. Truth justice and the American way!

Mom is moving to the rehab facility today at who the hell knows o'clock and that's okay with us. 9 days in hospital is about enough for any old soul. Though she wants a "private" room, I'm told that her roommate is a quiet sort who keeps to herself and won't steal mom's stuff. The last time she was there the lady in the other bed took her Easter basket that the church kids had dropped off! We still laugh about that one. Thankfully I've been able to keep in touch with the main players of this drama by phone so I don't have to get dressed and act like a big girl just yet. I'm off all meds except for the pre-op selection so there's some mood fluctuation going on but the pain is slowly getting better. We've had monsoons two days in a row, one of which I was just sure was gonna' turn into something bad simply because of the color of the sky. You know...yellowy,orangish kinda' purple. Eerie!

So, I'm really not that good of a girl I reckon. I have good intentions and usually let my heart lead me into difficult situations when it comes to relationships but I am learning to embrace assertiveness as a way to care for myself. Nothing good ever comes from giving 150%.

Peace and love~

1 comment:

  1. I love that last paragraph. I was taught to give 150% in everything, but there is only so much available here lately and some of it has to go to me. I hope your mama does well in rehab and minds her docs and daughter!!