Reason #597 I love my mother
Oct. 1st, 2004 04:08 pmMy mom just called me to check in, and apparently my dad had called her (which is a rarity, although less so since his stroke) and she said, and I quote:
"I was trying to score some weed for G." I just couldn't stop giggling.
(G. is a friend of hers has several forms of cancer and is in a lot of pain, which isn't at all funny, but hearing this from my mother in the middle of the afternoon is hysterical. Especially considering she followed it up by saying that my dad had told her a story about smoking pot with a friend of his during one of their reunion weekends right before the stroke. My dad quit doing any sort of drug/substance about 10 years ago, but when you get together with your buddies and are drinking non-alcoholic beer, I suppose a little pot is the sign of manliness. Hee. Apparently, it was awfully good stuff, unsurprisingly since he got it from his friend who lives in Berkley.)
My mom followed this up, giggling, by saying:
"These old hippies still can't help it."
(For the record, my parents were definitely hippies, or as hippyish as you can get in Westen Wyoming, but my mother at least, never really participated in the more psychadelic aspects of that culture. So it just cracks me up to hear her say things like that).
I just, I don't know, I love that my mom would consider any solution to help her friend feel better. I know she's helped to finance some of G.'s alternative medical treatments when the mainstream establishment wasn't helping her. And I love the idea of my dad, this aging,overweight, ex- hippy, Einstein looking school teacher who's still a rock star in his own mind, who would go every summer to play music for a week with his rock band from high school would smoke a little pot behind the barn even though he hasn't drank or taken narcotics in 10 years. It's just sort of warm and charming. And yeah, I know that may seem a little strange, but my adoration of these aspects of my parents probably says a lot about me:)
And apparently, for the record, G. didn't think that THC was the solution. From her own hazy days, she remembered it making things too real, and that's not what she's looking for right now. Yeah. Life is just such a thing, such a painful, weird, giddy, agonizing thing.
"I was trying to score some weed for G." I just couldn't stop giggling.
(G. is a friend of hers has several forms of cancer and is in a lot of pain, which isn't at all funny, but hearing this from my mother in the middle of the afternoon is hysterical. Especially considering she followed it up by saying that my dad had told her a story about smoking pot with a friend of his during one of their reunion weekends right before the stroke. My dad quit doing any sort of drug/substance about 10 years ago, but when you get together with your buddies and are drinking non-alcoholic beer, I suppose a little pot is the sign of manliness. Hee. Apparently, it was awfully good stuff, unsurprisingly since he got it from his friend who lives in Berkley.)
My mom followed this up, giggling, by saying:
"These old hippies still can't help it."
(For the record, my parents were definitely hippies, or as hippyish as you can get in Westen Wyoming, but my mother at least, never really participated in the more psychadelic aspects of that culture. So it just cracks me up to hear her say things like that).
I just, I don't know, I love that my mom would consider any solution to help her friend feel better. I know she's helped to finance some of G.'s alternative medical treatments when the mainstream establishment wasn't helping her. And I love the idea of my dad, this aging,overweight, ex- hippy, Einstein looking school teacher who's still a rock star in his own mind, who would go every summer to play music for a week with his rock band from high school would smoke a little pot behind the barn even though he hasn't drank or taken narcotics in 10 years. It's just sort of warm and charming. And yeah, I know that may seem a little strange, but my adoration of these aspects of my parents probably says a lot about me:)
And apparently, for the record, G. didn't think that THC was the solution. From her own hazy days, she remembered it making things too real, and that's not what she's looking for right now. Yeah. Life is just such a thing, such a painful, weird, giddy, agonizing thing.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-01 11:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-02 12:44 am (UTC)it opened up so many boxes. your post reminds me of salieri's quote from 'The Taste of Honey, the Hum of Bees' "Nobody lives in a box, Jack" so what you wrote doesn't sound strange to me. it sounds wonderful and sweet, and out of the box in a great and poignant way. *g*
no subject
Date: 2004-10-04 08:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-04 10:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-04 10:08 pm (UTC)