Sunday, August 05, 2007

Still Mad, All of Us, But I'm On My Way Home

August 4, 2007

Well, I made it to the airport without getting lost.

They said to be at the airport at least two hours before my flight was due to leave. I was worried about an accident holding up traffic on the way to University Park airport, so I allowed another hour for travel, with leeway for getting myself turned around and ending up on the far side of State College.

As a result, this sweet little airport is going to have to occupy my time for the next two hours. They don't expect one to go through security more than about a half hour before the flight leaves. (!)

I must say that so far this airport is lovely. Unhurried, staffed by pleasant, happy people -- what is this? The land that rush hour forgot?

There is even a wireless network here. The only drawback is that its subscriber page doesn't work. I wasted some cell phone minutes calling their technical support, and the fellah on the other end just said to try it again. Wow. That's profound, especially when the damn page doesn't work.

Oh, well, I didn't need to read the daily funnies that badly anyway.

Last night my friend Lonz called to tell me that he'd been to see my mother, and had taken her to see Jan. He told me that Jan would have nothing to do with her, and wouldn't even let her touch her arm. That's sad. I don't know if it was because Jan was grumpy, having been moved to a different room, or if it was because Jan has been enjoying not being shouted at or bullied. Hard to say. Mom didn't want to "waste time" just sitting with Jan (or reading to her) so Lonz took Ma home. Mom told him what the names of all the trees were that they passed on the little mountain road he took, but spent most of her time complaining about how I was trying to steal all her money, and how I cared about nothing but her money. And she also complained that I hadn't come to visit her, even though she knew I was in town.

In point of fact, I missed running into her and Lonz at the hospital by about ten blessed minutes.

No, I didn't go see her after she flew into a rage about her truck being sold. Neighbors and friends told me the horrible things she was saying about me, and I had no desire to subject myself to the ravings of an angry dementia patient whose past decisions were responsible for my sister's battered psyche and physical illness.

Guess I'm still furious, too.

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