mother until Anthony comes in?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Thanks. I’ll call you later. Oh, Jane, hold on.” I read the name from a prescription bottle. “Who is Dr. Byron Dickerson?”
“He’s the psychiatrist on staff at St. Martin’s.”
“Thanks, Jane.”
After I hung up, I scanned each of the labels of Mama’s medications. Based on the type and dosage, she must have serious problems. Maybe this would explain so much about the past.
My growling stomach reminded me of the bowl of soup in the microwave. After a few bites of the hot soup, I began to relax. Mama had not lost her talent for cooking. The subtle spice with big chunks of vegetables took me back to my childhood days. Cajun aromas greeted us at the door when we’d return from school. A snack waited for Anthony and me to hold us up until suppertime. Too bad Elray had been part of that picture. Had Mama been taking these drugs then?
I gathered her things, placed the pecan pies in a portable storage container, and headed back to the hospital. Was this condition something she’d battled all her life or just since Elray died?
When I got back to the hospital Aunt Melanie and Mama sat in the waiting room, deep in conversation. I handed Mama her things and placed the sweet treats on the table between her and Aunt Mel. I remained silent.
Our eyes met.
She smiled and then took the bag. “Thank you, Cheryl. I think I’ll go down the hall and freshen up.”
I nodded. After she left, I sat next to Aunt Melanie.
She reached for my hand. “You saw the meds, didn’t you?”
Was I the only one who didn’t know about my mother’s illness? “Yes. How long?”
“All her life. But things spiraled into the deep end when your dad died.”
The erratic behavior, her neediness, all the hushed whispers after explosive episodes, made sense now for the first time. “That’s why she was so pampered.”
“It took a while for an accurate schizophrenic diagnosis.” Aunt Melanie laced her fingers through mine. “If it’s any consolation, Mawmaw and I felt that you and Anthony should know. Your mom insisted you not know.” She shrugged her shoulders. “So we respected her wishes.”
“Why did she have me pick up her meds? She could have asked you.”
“I think she wanted you to know but couldn’t tell you. You’d recognize the prescriptions.”
I turned sideways in my seat. “Was she that sure I’d look at the labels?”
Melanie shrugged. “I can’t speak for your mother or explain her way of thinking.”
I backed off. I’m sure over the years my aunt had been put in this same position and had learned the hard way to stay neutral.
There were some things I couldn’t let go. “What’s the big deal? I could have understood this more than her unwillingness to get out of a bad situation.”
“I can’t answer for your mom, but I do know she did the best she could. Her determination to keep you and Anthony together as a family drove her to make some hard decisions. She wouldn’t move back in with Mama. I offered to come back from France, but she wouldn’t hear of it. So she married Elray.”
“But with her men...her medical issues, couldn’t Mawmaw have intervened?”
“Cheryl, as dependent as your mother is, she can be fiercely independent about certain things. She guarded her family and her decision-making like an alligator guarding her eggs. She made her own decision and dared anyone to question her. Another thing, I suspect after this morning’s episode, that she’s stopped taking those meds. Having you pick them up is an indication that she’s going back on them. It’s been a vicious and dangerous cycle.”
“That is dangerous. Those are not the type of drugs you just stop taking. Have they been able to find a dosage that works for her?”
“It’s been hit and miss. But when she starts to feel better, she stops taking them. Or something else makes her stop. I’m not sure. As close as we are, it’s one area that she
“Yes, I think so.”
“Thanks. I’ll call you later. Oh, Jane, hold on.” I read the name from a prescription bottle. “Who is Dr. Byron Dickerson?”
“He’s the psychiatrist on staff at St. Martin’s.”
“Thanks, Jane.”
After I hung up, I scanned each of the labels of Mama’s medications. Based on the type and dosage, she must have serious problems. Maybe this would explain so much about the past.
My growling stomach reminded me of the bowl of soup in the microwave. After a few bites of the hot soup, I began to relax. Mama had not lost her talent for cooking. The subtle spice with big chunks of vegetables took me back to my childhood days. Cajun aromas greeted us at the door when we’d return from school. A snack waited for Anthony and me to hold us up until suppertime. Too bad Elray had been part of that picture. Had Mama been taking these drugs then?
I gathered her things, placed the pecan pies in a portable storage container, and headed back to the hospital. Was this condition something she’d battled all her life or just since Elray died?
When I got back to the hospital Aunt Melanie and Mama sat in the waiting room, deep in conversation. I handed Mama her things and placed the sweet treats on the table between her and Aunt Mel. I remained silent.
Our eyes met.
She smiled and then took the bag. “Thank you, Cheryl. I think I’ll go down the hall and freshen up.”
I nodded. After she left, I sat next to Aunt Melanie.
She reached for my hand. “You saw the meds, didn’t you?”
Was I the only one who didn’t know about my mother’s illness? “Yes. How long?”
“All her life. But things spiraled into the deep end when your dad died.”
The erratic behavior, her neediness, all the hushed whispers after explosive episodes, made sense now for the first time. “That’s why she was so pampered.”
“It took a while for an accurate schizophrenic diagnosis.” Aunt Melanie laced her fingers through mine. “If it’s any consolation, Mawmaw and I felt that you and Anthony should know. Your mom insisted you not know.” She shrugged her shoulders. “So we respected her wishes.”
“Why did she have me pick up her meds? She could have asked you.”
“I think she wanted you to know but couldn’t tell you. You’d recognize the prescriptions.”
I turned sideways in my seat. “Was she that sure I’d look at the labels?”
Melanie shrugged. “I can’t speak for your mother or explain her way of thinking.”
I backed off. I’m sure over the years my aunt had been put in this same position and had learned the hard way to stay neutral.
There were some things I couldn’t let go. “What’s the big deal? I could have understood this more than her unwillingness to get out of a bad situation.”
“I can’t answer for your mom, but I do know she did the best she could. Her determination to keep you and Anthony together as a family drove her to make some hard decisions. She wouldn’t move back in with Mama. I offered to come back from France, but she wouldn’t hear of it. So she married Elray.”
“But with her men...her medical issues, couldn’t Mawmaw have intervened?”
“Cheryl, as dependent as your mother is, she can be fiercely independent about certain things. She guarded her family and her decision-making like an alligator guarding her eggs. She made her own decision and dared anyone to question her. Another thing, I suspect after this morning’s episode, that she’s stopped taking those meds. Having you pick them up is an indication that she’s going back on them. It’s been a vicious and dangerous cycle.”
“That is dangerous. Those are not the type of drugs you just stop taking. Have they been able to find a dosage that works for her?”
“It’s been hit and miss. But when she starts to feel better, she stops taking them. Or something else makes her stop. I’m not sure. As close as we are, it’s one area that she
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