My parents. You wouldn’t wish them on anyone.

My sister called me last week. We don’t meet often, but our telephone calls are long and almost always end with stomach aches. Of laughter. Reminiscing the old day often has that effect on us. And that is a feat if I know one! Because our childhood days weren’t all that great. An abusive father, a mentally ill mother. Ooooh, I know, you’re probably thinking, “So what? You think mine were all paradise? Think again!” And you would probably be right. But this time my sister dropped a bomb: “Momma is thinking about euthanasia.” No, I definitely didn’t see that one coming! Continue reading