I’ve been kind of upset tonight, thinking about mom and the end and all. I played a tape called Gratitude in which Gurumayi speaks about Muktananda’s 60th birthday, I think.
Anyway, I was thinking about the night that mom had the stroke and the rescue people. One fellow came in and he was talking to the other guys, like small talk, about someone he knew who had brain cancer. There is my mother, unable to talk or walk and this schmoe is talking about brain cancer. What a son of a bitch. Later on they determined that mom had a dislocated shoulder and she had to wear these damn slings that she just hated and I wonder if it was that bruiser who came here bullshitting with his buddies about serious diseases who might have picked mom up wrong. Of course the hospital never even considereed that it might have been our tried and true rescue team. They are the heroes of the world since 911. They blamed the dislocated shoulder on her fall from her bed.
I didn’t even know who the fucks were and certainly, they didn’t care about me. I should have stayed in the bedroom to make sure they handled her right. I just really didn’t appreciate a man talking about some other patient who had brain cancer at that particular time. How insensitive!
My other siblings gave mom this table back in the late 60’s.
She loved it.
I wonder if that extra place she set was for me?
A new picture of Christine and Jonas at their wedding.
I think it was in 1996.
It was a traveling year for mom and I. We also went to Nashville for the International Conference of Urantia Book Readers.
Here’s another Roxanne. I’m sure this picture is after Rocky had been married maybe 2 times and had a child.
Well, I’m not sure, but I think children were around.
The other picture was probably taken at the same time.
I edited this one so you could see Rox a little better.
When I was 19 I dated a young woman of 15 named Roxanne.
This is a picture of her and mom.
Roxanne sometimes came and visited in the 70’s, but I haven’t seen her in a long, long time.
Bill and Miss lived in Ocala in the 80’s. We got a rare visit from Uncle Al back then and someone took this picture, probably Miss.
Al liked to drink and was probably drinking then.
We all felt a little queer.
In case you are not following, it is Bill, Al and me, from left to right.
This is mom’s little sister, Marguerite.
We visited her frequently when we lived in New York.
Visiting her and Uncle Al was something we would miss when we moved to Florida.
She had a collie name Bonnie that she loved dearly.