Coming home for the last time

Even though what's-left-of-my-family all live in California, I would appear to be all on my own this week. Even though I have a relation 10 minutes away, no one offered to fetch me from the airport. No one seemed to care if I got to my mother's house or not. Just-get-the-damned-house-clean-because-everyone-wants-their-cash-halleluja-and-ciao.

Cleaning out is hard enough, but staying alone in my mother's house is going to gut me. There is a void where she used to be. There is a void in the spot that held us all together. And I am too wearied by the narcissism and the self-pity to keep patching dykes. If you can't let of things after two decades, then there never was any hope. Take your grudges and entertain someone else.

I need to empty this cupboard, but all I can do is stand in the kitchen and cry.

Dr. Lorimer arrives Tuesday night to help. Tuesday can't come fast enough.