I know the answers to the unspoken questions that pull tears from my eyes. I know not to ever ask ever again “When will it stop?” I came as I promised Monday evening to pick up some food and the old food processor and juicer. She was upset, I guess I was too precisely on time. I said, “I’m here” and the response was “Oh, okay. Whatever.” Dad’s response to me was don’t start anything. Me? I came on time. I came as promised. She’s mad when I come, when I don’t visit.
I can’t entertain the crazy.