the Ultimate Jury

Mother died last night.

There are those who think I might have played a part in her demise, but no, I assure you, this is not so.

Lord knows there's things she's done to me that deserved an untimely death be visited upon her, make no mistake. Over endless streams of whiskey and soda I prepared for her, taking care of her pain, knowing that at any time I might feel the sting of her wicked tongue as she lashed out at me for some imagined slight. I had to bide my words and deeds most carefully you see, to assess her ever shifting moods, to placate and soften her drunken rages. How many times had she told me I was "no damn good", five thousand? ten?

But no, I do not mean to imply that I did not love my mother. After all, she was my mother and I was her son. What kind of a person is it who doesn't even love his own mother?

I remember one night when I was 7 years old and I was having a frightening and disorienting series of nightmares. I was scared and dazed by the dreams that would not cease, even when I seemed to awaken into a sort of waking nightmare that would not end. My mother was quite beside herself with anxiety and worry, and her mothers instinct was to slap me cruelly across the face and slam close windows and the dresser drawers in my room. Or Did I dream that?

No matter, mothers death was not unexpected by me, and in confidence I don't mind telling you that in fact she had not been looking well for weeks. I'm sure the authorities will be concerned with the untidy appearance of her room and the somewhat disheveled appearance of the drawers where her medications were kept. I fear that it may cast doubt in some minds regarding my own non-involvement with her passing......

I remember the time someone asked me if I was angry with my mother, and I said no, of course not, I'm not angry. What good would come from getting angry? The past is in the past. Besides, I'm much too intelligent and civilized to be burdened by anything so primitive as anger. So, no, I'm not angry, not at all.

But I digress. It will ultimately be your decision whether you place value on my words and how you choose to interpret my message. You are the ultimate jury, because it is ultimately public opinion that will determine my fate, and my success in persuading a small specialized audience like yourself to my point of view will prove the value of the evidence that I have presented here to you.

Mother has been talking to me in the mirror again. Any time I glance at my reflection in the glass she scolds me and reminds me of my worthlessness. She points out one of my many flaws and devalues my being. It's funny how she haunts my waking dreams.......

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