A quick venting session before I start my morning.
Have you ever received a message from a friend and you just know something isn’t right. The tone is off, you haven’t heard from this person in a while. There’s really no reason to be calling except it has been a long time and you each have been thinking about each other.
I got the message this morning from my best friend. Her grandmother died. And I think grandmother’s take on a different role in the south. Boy often teases me about the names we use for grandparents, mimi, mima, papa, pappa, and usually one aunt becomes nana. But I think that shows how a grandmother becomes a second mother. The mother you go to when the first mother is being a stubborn donkey and you need someone who is going to actually listen. So I know what it meant when my best friend told me she died. This is the woman who taught her how to cajun dance by saying, “it’s just flirtin’ from the waist down, chere.”
But on top of this, her mother is a raging alcoholic (think YaYa Sisterhood, there’s always a raging alcoholic in everyone’s family in the south.) But her liver is functioning at 10% and there’s nothing the doctor’s can do because she’s still drinking.
Then her irish twin sister was kicked out of her apartment because she’s doing cocaine again.
My best friend is pretty much alone. Trying to hold her family together. Coming to me for support. And I’m choked up, feeling like I’m failing as a friend because I don’t know what to say. I don’t know if I should go back to Louisiana to be with her, I just listen. Hang up. Call my mom, and ask my mom for help. Tel lmy friend that place we used to hang out everyday for years after school is still there. She can always go to my mom’s. And she should, she needs to get away from her family for a second. But I don’t feel like I can help her.
I wish I could go down there, sweep her out of the chaos, bring her back with me, let her live in my very calm life for a while. But that’s not enough to help.