| Subject: Letters to Samson - 15 The Rip Off |
Author:
Holly
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Date Posted: 12:39:21 05/31/06 Wed
In reply to:
Holly
's message, "Letters to Samson - 1" on 18:59:32 06/04/05 Sat
I have wanted to write so many times. I've pulled up the screen. Sometimes, I get interrupted. Sometimes, like today, your Dad is playing drums, and I can't think. But, mostly, I just can't seem to think or keep it together long enough to spit out anything coherent.
You've done a million funny things lately. I can't remember a single one. O do remember the sound of your laughter - joyous, uncontrollable kindergiggles - when I took you to the war memorial pool a week ago.
And now, again, I'm sick. Fever, bleeding rash, sour stomach, blinding headache, and a prednisone-induced roid rage that makes me want to KILL your father for continuing to "not get" that waking me up early can set me right on my butt.
It's a rip off.
And I'm finally getting really angry about it. It's a beautiful day out there. I should be glad that uncouth person called your father on the phone at 7:45 in the blessed a.m. I should be out gardening, walking, shopping the Somerville street boutiques and thrift stores. I could drive half and hour and rent a horse.
I could go get you at school and take you for a bike ride.
I hate feeling sorry for myself. I hate it. I hate having an invisible illness. I despise dressing like Michael Jackson more than I loathe walking like the inevitable 80-year-old who cuts you off in the grocery line.
Hate it. Hate it all. Really hate the cognitive dysfunction.
But most of all, I hate what it does to my family.
It breaks my heart how elated you get when you and I get to do something outside the house. Your father is even more pathetic.
I'm the only mother you've got. And you, my son, have been ripped off.
I love who you are, and I want to spend time with you. I want to run behind your bike, chase wiffle balls, teach you to ride a horse. Then teach you to ride a mean little pony.
I want to show you how precious it is to find love with someone who is willing to work with you however hard it takes to make a family. Mostly, I'm just irritated at your Dad. He's getting ripped off, too.
I absolutely want you to be able to have friends over to hang out, eat, play, whatever.
Oh well. At least I can let you know that I understand how unfair it is.
I love you.
Next time you say something funny, I'll try to remember to make you repeat it on video.
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