Excerpt #8: A Sick Mother

    There was a mental hospital, an institution of mammoth proportions just a few miles away, that she frequented throughout the year, every year, just to wallow in the misery of others. It was her favorite place. She simply loved to be around the mentally disabled and hopelessly lost. Those poor souls, whose lives were nothing but a never ending hell on earth, were the only real friends my mother ever had. I'd sit off to the side and watch as she'd wander down into the day room where they all gathered and sit at their table and stare without saying one word. I never knew exactly how she communicated with them, but she sure got something out of it. She also loved to go to animal shows and stare at the unhappy, caged creatures as if she was somehow connected with them, tuned in to the wavelength of their suffering. It was almost as if the creatures would volley their suffering situation back and forth with hers.