Well, that didn't go quite as expected.

May 6th, 2008

I Fear I’ll Do Some Damage One Fine Day

I’m trying not to obsess about my brother, Biggus Dickus’ latest actions, but I am obsessing. Answer me this: why did he send a letter to the owner of the home in which we have our mother complaining that she never sends him reports about Mummy? And why did he tell me that he was sending such a letter, but neglect to mention part B, which is that there is a “very dear friend of the family” (of whom I have never, ever heard) who often has business in Miami and will be coming to see Mummy from time to time, to give Biggus Dickus reports on her, and that he wants this person to be granted every courtesy the owner would grant a family member. And why, if he is concerned about Mummy or her confines, does he not A) ask me, who sees Mummy almost every week, or B) get his ass down here and see her for himself? Why would he hide this visitor from me; why wouldn’t he ask me to meet with her and take her to see Mummy.

Who is this third person? What business is it of hers? Why didn’t he tell me? Why isn’t she contacting me? Why doesn’t he call me to find out about Mummy? And really, and come on, what is there to say about a 90 year old woman with end-stage Alzheimer’s? She gets 3 home-cooked meals a day, which she eats with assistance. She gets a bath every day, and her hair shampooed. She has regular bowel movements and her diapers changed promptly. She naps. She talks. She still has hallucinations, we think. Her blind eye is still blind. She still can’t walk without assistance. She still doesn’t remember anything nor is she aware of much. She’s otherwise healthy as an ox.

Does Biggus Dickus think I’m lying about this? Does he not want to talk to me because I sound a tad judgemental about his inability to see his mother in this condition? Dude. Not only are you a professional mental health specialist, you are a 60-year old man. Sack up, ho. Buy yourself some powder milk biscuits and get the strength to do the things which need to be done: i.e.: see your mother. Does he think I’m stealing money? That I’m not taking good care of her? That I don’t actually visit her regularly?

What the fuck is wrong with him? What band of wolves dropped him at my parents door because he was too antisocial and irredeemable to be part of the pack? At what point did he forfeit his humanity? His soul? What am I supposed to do?