So you know back when the world was regular and the kids and I would go to the beach, we'd always stop after to get junk to eat like at McDonald's. And I'd get a sundae and I'd always ask for extra nuts because the whole point of the sundae is the sheer amount of nuts you can add to it.
My need for extra nuts has definitely been heard. Today I got up early to try and ride before my mom got up so as not to disturb anything and when we were leaving in the dark at 6:30 the one horse that was left behind in the barn started screaming like he was Brazil and just lost the World Cup and I thought wow I hope he doesn't keep that up because my mom's window is like, right there. Horse adjacent.
So I forget all about it because when you ride the horses have the magical power of erasure and when I got back and inside, dirty and covered in hay at only 7:30, there's Barry with my mom crying in the bathroom just out of the shower and apparently I had missed a shitshow like literally. And I'm thinking wow is there no good time anymore?
We've already done the craptastic blog so I don't think I need to say anything about why my mom needed to shower off poop at 7:30 a.m. except imagine just more, and runnier, and I wasn't there, so also, let's thinly layer on regret.
But the problem with the day was the whole rest of the day my mom was in a cheerful mood, while I was feeding her and then teaching my class and she wandered around loudly answering all the questions I was asking the kids in my online class, and then after class, I was sitting outside reading and she was there too and I started actually listening to her and how she might make a little sense for a few minutes and then her brain just flows right into I don't know
extra nuts
I thought OH MY GOD. I have done it. I HAVE THE EXTRA NUTS.
Not the yummy kind mixed with hot fudge and ice cream. This is the real kind. Like the worst kind, involving this icon from your life. She fed you and rocked you and encircled you and you felt safe. And now she is still HERE folks, but (seriously, eyebrows vexed) you reel in that fishing line and there's not even a hook, it's just like empty floating plastic string.
I think because I'm the daughter I was thinking stubbornly SHUT UP, SHE'S FINE. She's FAKING. Look, she's totally ok. Today I was looking at her and thinking man this is... this is something there is no way I can understand. Like. At ALL. This brain disease, and it's undertow, and that little blonde person who is what's left of my mom. What is happening.
I started thinking about how when things are this epic they just become, as I sat there, watching the light on the trees and the dogs, comedy.
Everything's connected. Those nuts you ordered? They're coming back for you. They think it's funny. That mom you loved? I forget her voice and I just listen to her heart and hold her hand and remember all the times she held my hand when she thought I was a fucking idiot.
There is nothing to do in times like this. So I made Cream of Wheat since it was getting cold out, and I sat with my extra nuts and basked in the late afternoon light and I stopped trying to make sense of it all. Better to just eat something warm and watch someone's face, with all the nuts you need.
