The very cool photograph at the top of this post is Colin and my daughter and my Star Wars action figures. I remember this was back when we had hooked up again after so many years, November of 2012. This was a rather turbulent period in our time upstate. My mother was living in the house. I had brought her up to our house in February of 2011 when it became obvious she could no longer look after herself. This was the last time she stayed with us, because later that night, completely inebriated off her butt, she flipped out and half of Putnam County showed up in my living room at 1 o’clock in the morning.
Colin stayed over and she thought he was a burglar, or so she believed even after I repeatedly reminded her he was my old friend coming up to visit. I was talking to people from the Sheriff’s Office, imploring them to take her into custody and throw her in a drunk tank. They asked her some questions. What year is it? 2009. Who is the President of the United States? George Bush. They strapped her to a gurney and took her to Putnam Hospital Center. A couple of days later, I spoke to her doctor who told me that her blood alcohol levels were dangerously high. I never let her back into my house or my life again.
I snapped this picture before all of that happened. At least the cops didn’t wake Regan.
Those action figures stayed with me most of my life. They are among the few things I have from childhood, and I cling to them as though they are priceless. They are priceless, in a way. Living with my mother had a way of destroying me, taking me apart piece-by-piece, but I kept a few of those pieces. Some of them are on that table playing with Colin and Regan.
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