OK, let’s say you’re an 80-year old woman who has had a terrible last few years. You had three children die in the span of 5 years, a son in 2004, another son in 2008 and a daughter in 2009. Then, you have a series of medical setbacks, a couple of which almost kill you. In 2010, you fall and break your knee right above where you had a a couple years earlier.
Now, you’re pretty much bedridden. You’ve been told that you will never return to your own home and you can not live independently. You’re in a rehabilitation home, waiting for a room in their .
Now, you have a phone in your room, but you can’t dial long distance from it. You don’t have e-mail. You can write, but your hands are so crippled with arthritis each stroke of the pen is agony.
But you want to get a message to your four remaining children, and you want them to receive it at the same time.
Easy. You ask your daughter who lives in the same city to copy down a dictated letter, then have her e-mail that letter to her two brothers and sister.
One problem. The youngest sister has disavowed her family. She has cut off all contact with her two brothers and sister because her new husband has convinced her that she is SMARTER and BETTER than they are. Her new husband has no patience for people of faith and has classified her mother as “ignorant” for “not knowing any better” about the “fact” that there “is no God.”
But your mother WANTS the message sent to her . She really wants her older daughter to TRY to get the message to her younger daughter. What’s the older daughter to do?
Here, again, is the message my 80-year old bed-ridden mother wanted her four remaining children to read.
Now, technically, he called her “ignorant,” not “stupid.” When Becki told that, she replied, “And that’s a step up?”
Anyway, how to get the message to Micki when no one has her phone number, no one has her e-mail, no one knows her mailing address.
Turns out a couple of my nieces still have Micki’s daughter, 22-year old Mary, as a friend on . Becki sent the message to my oldest niece and asked her to kindly pass it to Mary through Facebook and ask her to deliver it to her mother.
So, that’s the end of it. Right?
Not when you’re crazy and delusional! This morning, Micki called my mother at her rehab bed and scolded her SCOLDED her 80-year old, bedridden mother!
From Becki’s telling of the tale…
So, if my 80-year old bed-ridden mother in the rehab facility with a broken knee and aortic stenosis wants to talk to her daughter, she must wait until her daughter is in the mood to call HER.
Oh, and to be clear on what her husband did or did not call her– this is from the e-mail Shithead sent to me on March 8, 2010. Do your best with it, because I’m not going to correct the spelling or punctuation.
This why it is so IMPORTANT that you join the Mickey Mensa Club . I used to donate 100 percent of the proceeds of the sale of that merchandise to PD research. Now, 100 percent of the profits will go towards my mother’s care.
Here’s how the Mickey Mensa Club got its name.
On Sept. 28, 2010 after a long e-mail exchange between me, Shithead and Micki, she send me an angry e-mail that included this paragraph.
The two most important women in my life -- my mother and my wife.
This sweet, innocent woman whose husband died when she was 51, who had a tortured childhood with a father who abused her and a mother who ignored the abuse, this woman who had two children die before birth and three die as adults, this woman who has had one health problem after another, yet remains cheerful, bright, intelligent and funny despite it all. Her youngest daughter will call HER when she FEELS like calling her, and that’s the end of that.
Click the button toward the right top of the page. Buy something nice. If you know Micki and her address, maybe you could send her something. And 100 percent of the profits will be donated in your name to my Mom’s care.