The day of Epiphany

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So I sit here at the beach, having gone out to Mom’s house and back again (a journey of maybe a mile or two at most). The real estate vulturesagents were there already, checking out the house’s layout. Hell, I don’t want to keep the place. Designed by one of Addison Mizner’s associates, but I still don’t want to keep the place.

Spanish architecture can only take me so far. And not far enough, evidently.

You’ve been able, I see, O discerning reader, to guess that the bartender has already brought me my first Cosmopolitan. My mother just died, dammit. It’s still a rough journey even if I did hate her most of my life. I think — just think, mind you — that I loved her for the whole of it.

One thought on “The day of Epiphany”

  1. So sorry to read about your Mom.

    My Dad died suddenly in 1995 of a cerebral hemmorage caused by an astonomically high Kumidin (anti-clotting agent) level in his blood. FUnny, the docs were worried about him forming a blood clot & so prescibed Kumidin; instead he died from a bleed caused by their “cure.” My, the cruel ironies of life.

    I wanted to sue the bastards, but my Mom didn’t have the stomach for a lawsuit.

    I’d say your response as described in your blog is pretty standard for someone going through what you are (& what I did). It’s hard for the enormity of it all to sink in.

    Thanks for the cross link to my site in your sidebar. I appreciate it.

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