- In the 1960s and 70s, my mother's weight would balloon up and down. Up, because she ate mostly fried foods and no vegetables beyond potatoes. Down because of prescription diet pills.
- My mother always spanked and slapped me, but on diet pills, Benzedrine and Dexedrine, she would really let me have it. Belts, hairbrushes, serving ladles, and anything handy. Once she missed my head with a thrown ashtray by inches.
- Mom also worked her fingers to the bone for me and for the family. As a boy I watched her trudge off in the snow to a second job make sure there would be some kind of Christmas. When my father abandoned us (in the bus station of a strange city) she got a roof over our heads and food in our stomachs. Even if we did have to count the biscuits.
- As bad I got it, my sister got it worse. She was adopted. If she coughed, she coughed wrong. My sister never could please either of my parents.
- Decades later, my mother old, the diet pills far in the past, Mom denied it all. "I hardly every touched you. My mother was a lot harder."
- Mom has been gone for 6 years now. What would have been her 92nd birthday was last week. Did I love her? Sure. Absolutely. Will I go to visit her grave? No. It's never going to happen.
- Love is odd. You can love the person who kicks your ass. I know.