I think part of it is that, when you go through horrendous things together, you develop a bond that transcends most things, including long spaces of time between being physically in one another's presence and/or even speaking.
It was a nice visit, and we went through some old boxes of mementos that I didn't even know my mother still had! One of them was a box that I only vaguely remember sending her back around 1993 for safekeeping. Some of the things it contained I don't even remember why I wanted to keep them or where they came from, but there were some things in there that I didn't realize still existed. I thought they had burned in the fire from the mid-90's when I lost everything I owned at the time.. I'm so glad they didn't! I guess it was a good thing I forgot about them for a while so they could stay safely where they were.
One of the items was a sugar egg my father bought for me in Nashville, TN when we visited there just a couple of years before he died. I couldn't believe that thing had been sitting in a box at the bottom of a closet, still wrapped in plastic, all those years. It is even more amazing to me that it is still in great shape!
Another item was a stuffed animal - a mouse - that my father had kissed and held when tucking me into bed one night. Yet another stuffed animal was a rabbit that my father had been given while in the hospital dying of brain cancer. There was a small wooden box that had belonged to him, along with a mint that was still in the package that had been placed on his pillow at a hotel where he had stayed at some point. Little things here and there, bits and pieces of the past that make me feel closer to him.
There was a box full of hundreds of slides, perhaps a thousand or so, that had belonged to Daddy, and I didn't think I would ever be able to see them since I don't know anyone who has a projector. Amazingly, a week later I was at Walmart cruising through the clearance aisle and found a machine that will convert slides to digital images on your computer. It had been $89 and was on clearance for $15! Of course, I bought it.
While in the suburbs of Atlanta where my mother lives, we drove around, running errands and shopping for groceries and supplies. The place doesn't even resemble what it was when my mother moved there 22 years ago. It has turned into another Mexican-American city. On every corner is a 24-hour check cashing joint, stores I used to recognize are now stores with Spanish names catering to the Mexican folks who have taken over the entire area. I have nothing against the fact that these people have come here in order to work and earn a living and support their families, but there truly is a lot more crime there now, and the majority of them throw trash in my mother's yard as they walk through it to go to the convenience store down the road. That is trashy, and it breeds resentment against them as a people. Even though I'm sure there are white people who do the same thing, that's not the kind of people who used to live in the subdivision.
There are many Spanish-speaking folks in this country who come here and conduct their lives with decency and common courtesy. Those are not the kind of people who have taken over my mother's neighborhood.
One night, we went to Steak and Shake and went through the drive -through, which is spelled "drive-thru" most places it seems. As we pulled forward to wait for our order, we witnessed a huge group of drunk folks who had convened in the parking lot. There was a Mexican couple getting physical in an argument on the sidewalk at the entrance, and a black dude vomiting to the side. Then, a couldn't-be-more-white girl came out and said to the fighting Mexicans "Take your shit home. This is the SUBURBS! We don't do this here!" It couldn't have been more stereotypical in all the negative ways. That's just how reality is sometimes.
Shortly after all of this began, about 7-10 cop cars showed up. Funny, "Cops" just came on television as I began this paragraph, and it was like watching an episode of "Cops" as we sat there at the Steak and Shake. We felt as though we had a ringside seat at a circus while we waited for our food, and that was our entertainment for the evening.
While in Atlanta, I managed to drop my iPhone in the toilet (after flushing, thankfully) and my life flashed before my eyes as I began to wonder if I had killed it. I did all of the things everyone told me not to do after I had already done them, but somehow it survived.
It was a somewhat depressing trip, seeing that the area is pretty trashed when it used to be so nice. I had a nasty slip and fall at a Walmart, and was very sore for a few days, but thankfully I wasn't hurt badly and didn't even bruise as badly as I thought I would.
Several witnesses to the incident encouraged me to tell customer service what had happened, because there was water on the floor that caused the fall, but there was no way anyone could have seen it - including any employees - with the new brighter-than-the sun lighting in the renovated store and the whiter-than-snow floor. An employee wiped up the water immediately after this happened, and seemed concerned - kept asking if I was okay.
It was clear that a couple of people thought I was throwing away an opportunity to rake in some dough by not making a big deal about my "injury", but when you've been TRULY injured in the past and deal with constant, chronic pain as I do, you're just really fucking grateful that you aren't seriously hurt and you don't try to exploit a nuisance injury. Yeah, I know, it's rare.
So that's what went on before something much worse happened the day after I returned home. More on that later.
A.
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