Tales from Indiana

I am a selfish brat sometimes. Humility is not one of my strongpoints when it comes to my family. I have to say that it is embarassing for me to push my mom in a wheelchair through the mall. It makes me sad. I cannot help but wonder how she got to be this old... and weak. She can't even walk up and down stairs anymore. It was all I could not to cry my eyes out as I walked up to guest services to rent a wheelchair, secretly praying that I wouldn't run into anyone from my snobby high school.

I suddenly became the girl who is out with her sick mother, the care giver, the charity worker.

I just want a mom, and it seems that the time has passed for us to be able to have those fun times of hanging together. We spent most of my childhood and teenage years fighting and not getting along. We have spent most of the past few years trying to make up for lost time. I feel though that lost causes abound when it comes to my high strung, anxiety ridden mom.

Thank God for his strength, otherwise I would have bitten the dust today.

I feel somewhat guilty for the shame I felt pushing my mother through the sea of beautiful people. I felt out of place, shy and awkward. It was hard for me to smile. I wanted to cry, and then I wanted to cry because I wanted to cry.

I feel so lame.