Sunday, September 17, 2006

Bad B-Movie

I am my mother’s daughter. I said something to my wife so absurd she started to laugh. I was very serious. Teary.

Scene Four, Distraught Daughter, Take three. Snap.

If I don’t go… If I don’t, she will die. This time, she will die. And it will be all my fault.

Yup. I said that. Word for word. Not the 50 years of heavy drinking. Not the same amount of years smoking. Not the surgery or the complications of her completely scarred liver. Nope. My mere presence is enough to tip the balance. Life or death.

It’s hell being God.

I cannot believe I really said that. What’s worse? I believed it. I had the mirror held so close to my own face, it steamed over.

I really am my mother’s daughter.


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