Falling Into The Rabbit Hole

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Last weekend I drove the three hour journey to visit my mother. She lives in a tiny overpriced town tucked just across the West Virginia border nestled up against the Potomac. The view is absolutely breathtaking. The drive itself was incredible, the road leading to her house winding among the mountains and against the river.

Her employer, who she lives with as part of her compensation, is a very odd man. He is eighty-seven, opinionated as a mule, deaf as a door nail and adores putting people in their place. His life has been varied and glamorous. He was an OSS officer in WWII, an acclaimed author in the seventies and the son of two prominent celebrities. He has, in short, led a charmed life.

My mother knows him from her days in scientology as the Director of Public Affairs. He wrote a book on The Secret Life Of Plants (it's basically the premise that plants have feelings, or something like that) it was huge back in the days of free love and marijuana.

Upon my arrival, I was tested with spirited conversation as well as the admonition that "you need to speak slowly and clearly, my dear. You are much more beautiful when I can understand you." Apparently, I passed, because it was only a matter of hours before he began piling manuscripts upon me to read. His memoirs, his OSS accounts, his short story of his romp with Bridget Bardot. Oh yes, and a book on who financed WWII. (He's very much into conspiracy theory.)

I felt very... Bohemian. There were unexpected guests for dinner, so we all ate a little less and they played for their dinner. We drank wine with--everything. We ate pasta and talked of philosophy. I found myself considering and thinking about some of the more appealing ideas that he presented regarding religion and life. But I also found myself quietly refuting it with scripture. It was scary, all these appealing thoughts but it's good to question and make yourself think.

Visiting her was nice. I am now able to understand her perspective alot more. Even if it is a bit weird and creepish. I am able to see how she processes her thoughts. I was able to show her that even though she now believes in past lives and godknowswhatelse, I still love her.

For she is my Mum.

2 Responses to “Falling Into The Rabbit Hole”

  1. Anonymous jon37 

    Oooo! OSS! good stuff. Think he'd let me read his material?

  2. Anonymous jon37 

    Ah, I suspect it is Peter who was in Italy. Is my spy network correct?

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

the past


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