Draft of thoughts for "Writer's Cramp."
|Something is happening to me, I think to myself. I go to the bathroom and just stand there. "Who is this woman in the mirror?" I ask. I look at my hands and pinch the loose skin. "I don't remember when my hands started to look so wrinkled." I stand a while longer, lost in my jumbled thoughts. I look up as, "um, what's her name?" came peeking around the corner of the door. "Mama, are you going to brush your teeth?" I look across the vanity for something, but can't seem to understand. "Oh yeah, Suzie," I think to myself. Suzie reaches for my toothbrush and dentures. "Mama, here," as she places a bit of toothpaste on my toothbrush and hands it to me. I take the toothbrush and brush my gum and dentures, rinse my mouth, place my teeth, then stand there again. My thoughts are jumping around and I can't seem to find the right words or understand what I am supposed to do. "What is wrong with me," I think to myself. "Oh my stars, I must make breakfast for Sam and the boys. Sam needs to get off to work and the boys need to get ready for school." I shuffle my way to the kitchen, and Suzie says cheerily, " Mama, I have your oatmeal on the table there." I sit down at the table where Suzie placed my oatmeal, but I don't understand. I ask, "Where is Sam?" Suzie looks at me with confusion, so I ask again, "Is Sam in there?" I point to the other room. Suzie comes and sits down beside me with gentleness in her eyes. "Mama, Daddy Sam died a few years ago." I become overwhelmed with grief and confusion, and start to tear up. "What happened? When?," I asked. "Oh, Mama, don't you remember?" Suzie sounded so concerned. "He had problems with his kidneys and we had to take him to the hospital. Remember the whole family was there," she said to me as she grabbed my wrinkled hands to comfort me. I look down at my warped hands within hers, and think again, "How strange." This lady told me about how all the nine boys were there with their wives in the waiting room, and how we got the priest to give him his last rites, although he was Baptist and didn't want it. She told me, "Mama, I guess, you got the last word after all." I laughed with her, but I am so still a bit confused. Suzie walks over to the television and turns it over to "The Price Is Right." It comforts me a bit. I like to watch them spin the wheel.|