Whenever I miss Rose, I go to the Rose Museum.
Her entire life is archived into this small space(her room).
The wallpaper has not been changed.
The walls are covered with photographs and ribbons.
The shelves are stuffed full of photo albums, books and DVDs.
There are fairies everywhere.
The closet is packed with shoes, dresses, purses and toys.
Things go into the museum, but they never leave.
I am not allowed to straighten or clean.
I must dust delicately and sweep carefully.
Why the archives? She needs to remember.
Her memory cannot be trusted.
There were too many drugs and too many seizures.
The museum is her memory.
I do not need it to remember Rose, but Rose does.
Do not be alarmed. I am not referring to copulating, although this is a scientific term.
This hybridized word involves physics, not biology.
I love the word because it describes a stage in between.
Flinking refers to a state between floating and sinking.
The density of an object is such that it neither floats nor sinks.
Suspended in the water below its surface.
Too heavy to float but not heavy enough to sink.
I do enjoy the concept, but not the sensation.
It’s like the limbo without the line or the music.
I am not drowning. I am not swimming.I am not floating. I am flinking.
Motionless, powerless waiting for the current to shift and my density to change.
I have to follow through, before I can start something new.
People puzzle me.
I have been living with my eyes wide open for a long time now.
It seems to me that some need enemies and some need heroes.
Folks need something to fight or follow.
I am fortunate to have a full life, so I do not feel this need.
But some folks have holes in them.
There is a void that yearns to be filled.
They need to fight a boss or spouse, so they revel in political battles.
They need a champion parent or preacher, so they follow a paternalistic leader.
I have an enemy all ready. Epilepsy takes the battle out of me.
I have heroes in my family, one of which is my amazing Rose.
Because my life is full, I do not scroll for anger or watch a screen for inspiration.
I stay home peacefully puzzling about people while surrounded by plants.
Beware of Bad Busy.
Bad Busy runs red lights and loses keys.
Bad Busy uses profanity prolifically.
Bad Busy has high blood pressure and low immunity.
Bad Busy ignores the signs.
Bad Busy drinks from the fire hose.
Bad things happen when Bad Busy’s back is turned.
Bad Busy needs to check on her pets and her people.
Bad Busy needs to slow down and look around.
All that cortisol will kill Bad Busy.
Stop Bad Busy!
Get rid of the Bad.
Get rid of the Busy.
Do not apologize.
Pause and pray.
We wrote this book to help other families. It is not a pity party. I tried to include stories with lessons to them. It is blatantly honest, but kind.
Email me your address if you cannot get one.
This is our “Other Mother” mission.