graceland's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Postcards from the Edge The weekend was beautiful, the surf was warm and rough, I let it pull me out and toss me around until I got that feeling that I might not have the strength left to migrate to above the water after another big wave and got out. Today the paper showed that we had 8 foot waves, so I think I fared well for about 30 or 40 minutes. I got a ride to Philly with my mother tonight and that was endlessly aggravating. My mother and I cannot seem to connect. She projects financial insecurity onto me. Sometimes I feel like her primary focus on me is making sure that I do better than she did. Finally tonight I said to her, at least you have a husband and children to care for you and she sounded surprised when she responded, "Are you looking for a husband?" I wouldn't say I'm looking for a husband, but it would be nice to have a companion in life. My mother seems to think that is completely unnecessary. "Getting a husband is easy, Grace. Just find a guy and flirt with him, make him feel like he is the greatest thing in the world. Smile and laugh at him, like you do for your clients. You know how to do it." Somehow, I don't think it's that easy, but my mother seems to think so. The key, she says is to find someone who is reliable and treats you with kindness. And make sure you keep track of your money. That's what my mother told me. Make sure you keep track of your money. Why does it always come back to money? I frequently wonder why my mom married my father 42 years ago. Often, I think it's because she was lazy. She didn't know what to do with her life and she probably thought she should just get married. She had kids because my father wanted kids, not out of any desire on her part. My mother, is an enigma. I don't get her and I don't think I ever will. My father is having hand surgery tomorrow. I forgot about that when I said goodbye to him tonight after dinner, but I thought about it all the way home. My mother had the presence of mind to remind me that my Dad doesn't have life insurance so that if anything were to happen to him she'd be badly off. That's a nice demon to launch on your daughter on a Sunday evening. I have a bad feeling about this week regardless because of the anniversary of the attacks and then I remembered that this is also the 1 year anniversary of my father's brother dying and I thought that must be weighing heavily on my father's mind. My Dad is a terrible patient. He is genetically predisposed so that his system doesn't react to painkillers, even morphine. Only once he went under the knife and after that the doctors had to call my mother into the hospital in the middle of the night to calm him down because he had become so stressed at being incapacitated in the hospital, compounded by pain that couldn't be alleviated, that his blood pressure soared and they anticipated that he may induce a heart attack. He was a much younger man then. Tomorrow he goes under the knife for some non-invasive hand surgery that has me on high alert. I know he is freaking himself out. He and I are basically the same person. I know what he's thinking. It's not good. He'll be fine, it's just hand surgery after all. They're not going to put him under, just give him a valium drip and a local on his arm. We'll just have to wait and see. Hope he catches the Eagles game tomorrow night. 11:08 p.m. - 2003-09-07 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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