well...after 2 million 100 2 thousand 400 minutes...the nightmare that
at least half the country and the rest of the planet with a function'n brain cell has had to suffer thru like a undiagnosed beyond mentally deranged STD has F-I-N-A-L-L-Y been inoculated and cured...unfortunately there was a COMPLETE CODE RED MOMMIE DEAREST meltdown with the other half of the Jethro Clampett-Maury Povich hemmorrhage'n-drano douche'n-dip shitt'n-tin foiled capp'n-syphillis cheerlead'n-diabetic dorito's...
well...BOO FUCK'N HOO!
We always had a ramp at the back of our house so he was able to go
and come by himself. He bought a house, refurbished it and rented it to students. He was always trying something new.
He took lessons on the accordion and i can still hear him playing "The Blue Skirt Waltz" on our front porch. He also managed to do income tax for a myriad of people.
One day while riding in his car the driver took a sharp turn which resulted in the wheelchair being thrown against the side of the van. This resulted in a broken left shoulder for my son. (Doubly bad as he was left handed.)
He managed to keep on with his income tax work by moving his desk near our front door and installing a phone there. In that way he was able to answer the door and save me the trouble of coming in every time anyone knocked. He had a steady influx of people coming.
I remember the last two days before April 15th he had worked through two nights and days getting the papers ready for latecomers. At ten bells the night of the fifteenth he went to bed exhausted after the last person had picked up their taxes. At ten minutes of twelve the phone rang. I answered it and the woman said she wanted to ask my son a question. I told her i was not about to wake him after all he had gone though and I asked her
"Why did you wait so long?" Her reply was "I don't know".
He died at age 44 of a blood stream infection. He told me before he died there was so many things he still wanted to do. One was to go to Australia.
The mortician informed me after his death that the sac had attained a weight of 40 pounds. Can you imagine carrying that on your shoulders?
I don't have any specific claim to fame but I do get a great deal of satisfaction out of knowing I was able to help my son having as near
normal life as was possible under the circumstances. Years after his death i was watching Rev. Robert Schueler on the TV on Sunday. He in the course of his sermon, enumerated the three kinds of love. The third kind drew my attention. It was "I loved you because you needed me."
A light went on in my mind and I realized why the bond had been so strong
between my son and me. HE NEEDED ME.
Viola Mohan
my grama took care of me durin' my ever change'n teenage gender bender'n angst riddled years...as she did with my other siblin's and cousins as well as her grown kids durin' her lifetime...without make'n me
feel any different than someone who was walk'n down the street with a peg leg or a glass eye (unlike many others that did at the time) with a warm place to crash when needed or just warm conversations when wanted...the matriarch of our large irish family...Viola passed away peacefully in her sleep at home in 1993 at the age of 87...always young at heart with an open heart...you will always be in mine
hope you enjoyed this epic rerun as much as much as i loved relive'n it
now GET OFF MY DRESS!
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