My aunt Mary has been toting my blind *** back and forth to all of my eye doctor appts. She cannot afford to do this (no one can), but she is; she also doesn't have the time to, but she is making it. She has six grown kids of her own, each wih their own definite set of issues and grandkids to boot, she doesn't have to take me on too, but she does. She's the reason I ever got to go to the movies as a kid, the one who never forgot my birthday, the one who came and got me , when i was standing out in the rain, with no other way to get anywhere safe and warm, and the one who took me to a few far places when there was a concert I absolutely had to get to. The one who never cared if I seemed to be a freak of nature, and the one who showed me what a real parent was like, even though I had two of my own, they really didn't get it, with their disspointment with life, drunken depravity and cluelessness. I was the absolute end of life to my father, who blamed his old age and addictions on me, and a new person to cling to for my mother, who still doesn't really believe that there is a big dirty evil world out there, nor even a world with things to offer. Mary is my aunt, and now , my really good friend. When I was totally blind, and mary came to visit, I could feel her presence, I felt the way she was standing, leaning forward with hands clasped, unsure how to help, but incredibly willing. She brought me books on tape, and made sure there was a clear path for me to feel my way to the bathroom.She felt the despair almost as keenly as myself. So now, we drive to these stupid appts.We talk, lots, and I get to learn more about her world, how it was and is. It seems she makes everyone's life just that much better, and she asks for nothing in return, it takes very little to make her happy.

Yesterday, was one of the long rides, to surgery. I was kind of scared and in a lot of pain and nauseous. She talked and I listened. I laughed or grinned when I could, to make sure she knew I was listening. We got to the point in the ride where we passed the old soldiers home. My aunt Mary's friend Pat, had to put her husband herb in there when he got alzheimers disease. She herself had gotten cancer and just barely had gotten him room and board there before she herself passed away. Every time we had ever passed this ominous building on the hill, Mary had always said " ...everytime I go by here, I think of Herb, walking around in those tight little circles." Everytime, I had ever driven by it myself, I had thought of her saying it, and I saw the tightening circles that Herbert had scurried in. i was going to say it this time, but I didn't want to seem creepy, so I stayed mum. She said it herself a couple seconds later. I smiled at how somethings never change.This time she told me more of Herb's heartbreaking decline.Strnage the things that affirm your own adulthood, like people trusting you with the sad parts of the story. Like Phoebe on Friends, and her mother that always cut out the bad/sad parts of stories.

Mary has also told me, about how she was almost molested by a creepy old man once when she was small. It made me realize how she got to be such an advocate for children and these issues. It made my own mother tell her similar storyof the same old man to me later after dinner, she told it crudely, not using adult words for certain body parts, and sounds. She never affirms my adulthood, because she truly never has experienced her own adulthood.

Mary tells me stories of people who live in this house or that as we drive through her old neighbourhood, or run her errands, or go to lunch after my weird, painful appts. Her stories make me happy. She tells me all the time how her husband cheated her out of a swimming pool when they built their last house. She tells me she hates lying so very much.She deserves a pool and no lies.

Mary always brings me a snack too, the last time, I thought I'd bring her own. I brought a banana. I got into the car with her, she was already holding a banana, extended it towards me, as I did the same thing with mine, and we both cooed "I brought you a banana". We laughed for ten minutes with a big gmta.

Just now I was listening to Blue October's "Hate me". I hear it differently everytime I play it, with different concoctions of people and situations.The phone message at the beginning of the song made me think of Mary. I watched the slight corridor of trees that line my street as the song faded out with the haunting piano chords. Of course, I sit here, waiting for Mary to come get me to get my bandages removed, and she calls and I hear her chipper voice over the phone line, like the message in the song. I want to cry, and it takes all the stamina my ****ed up eye can handle to not cry.

Dear Mary,..thank you for making me feel safe.
When i truly grow up, I wanna be just like you.

Has your aunt Mary read this ?

Thank you for sharing a beautiful piece of writing. Pen, those few here who have said you're all about ego or that those of us who praise your talent are mere @ss kissers looking to exhault our own status on a website (LMFAO that if I lived to be 100 I'd care about such things .... GAHHHHHH!!! Crazy, toxic, thoughts boggle the mind) well, I wish they'd read this work.

It takes courage to write this way, to share it and to appreciate someone like Mary with your whole being. May all of us honour the Mary's in our lives and let ourselves grow from the experience.

Perfect in time for Mother's Day!!! Mothers, like friends, often have nothin' to do with blood.

Not yet Jackie, and thanks for reading


PLYE....No,I'm not all about ego,lol...some people get p.issed about confidence, especially if it comes out of a body type they already take issue with, strange and irritating for sure and I can only imagine whom you could be referring too,lol.Yeah mocking someone for months under different screenames isnt too mature.Also, I just post here,like anyone else, if peeps like what I do, I take it as the best compliment ever for just putting my best foot forward, saying something, if you like something is just as cool as doing it yourself, if you ask me.I respect the other artists here, this outlet wouldnt be here without the bunch of em.Thanks for reading and commenting, I agree totally with your last statement.\o/

lol.. I'm still kind of ripped over that 'status' stuff... the people that do talk to me, are my friends, and are confident, creative individuals, I really don't understand....those who have status issues and are avoiding me(another joe schmuck), can continue to do so, I don't yak with status-seeking w.ussy pantses.I'm here to be a fan and an artist, and make friends, not to be anyones imaginary stepping stone.

Thanks again plye.*hugs*

aww thats a great story Pen.. thank god for the people that are there for us! I'm sure that you are a gem to her just as much as she is to you.
You're one of the strongest peeps I know.

That made me cry I don't know why..lol but its an awesome story thanks for sharing.

Thanks Lil, twice

Aww, a good long over-due Ducky-Pen-outlet cry!!!\o/

Yeah you hadn't made me cry lately..LMAO..it was overdue!

To think I almost resorted to poking ya in the eye!! ROTFLMFAO... I'd never do that!!LOL!!