I got word late last night that one of my Old Dolls had passed away.
"Where will she be laid out?" I asked.
"We aren't invited to attend." one of the caregivers told me.
For a minute my blood boiled and I thought if I could figure out where she was, I would go, invited or not.
Last I heard we live in a free country, right?
Her only family member is a son who would come in the front door carrying a supply of diapers, walk right past her not saying a word, not even a nod in her general direction.
He'd toss the plastic bag in her closet and back-track right out the front door.
I'd been told that he once confided in one of the caregivers that his mother had been a "real bitch".
Well hey, I'm sure the children of my womb (the Koby-brats) could say that about me a time or two hundred.
Aren't we mothers all real bitches every now and again...?
Real or perceived....
What do we owe our mothers...?
Personally, I owe mine the world.
On a silver platter.
With a cherry on top.
I hope when my time comes that my children do more for me than begrudgingly deliver a bag of ass coverings once a week.
(I am more than certain that they will, I've been blessed with some wonderful children)
We (mostly) all deserve better than my old doll got.
If for nothing more than a simple payback for the 9 months you grew under our hearts.
Rest in Peace my dear, sweet, darling Miss Deedle.
I will miss our fun.