Mother’s Little Helper.

My Mom and I were chatting the other day about my Grandma who apparently had a nervous breakdown after her 4th baby. Since I usually feel like I am on the verge of one myself, I asked her what her own Mother’s looked like.  My mom told me that she was too young to remember but she does remember little things.  Like after they’d come home from church (Grandma wasn’t able to go) she’d look for the light in the kitchen window and, if that light was on {Mom} was O.K. and that they’d have dinner. She also remembers that her oldest sister raised her for many years, not really much more than that. I would really have loved it if my Grandma would have kept a journal, an honest one.  By the time I was old enough and started raising my family, Grandma’s mind was gone so I never got to ask her those types of questions to really know who she was as a woman, mother and wife. Hopefully this will serve well for my kids to know who I was.

I know I’m not having a nervous breakdown (yet) but there are those days when I could use a Mothers Little Helper, I started joking about Prop 19 and how I have my 25×25 plot already marked out in my yard and of course Mom said she’d visit more often. But what was interesting was that apparently grandma was an original “tweaker” all jacked up on benzadrine during the day and some sort of downer at night…Mother’s little Helper, got hooked on it and had to go through all sorts of trouble getting off of it.  Just wanting to look into it a bit more I started doing some research (this is where I am totally like my Grandma, always looking around for solutions to friends troubles and ailments) and happened on this article, it’s an amazing read through not only this topic but that of medicating American society at large, just ignore the product plugs at the end of it.  Kinda made me sad…ok, on to better and less depressing things, off to mark out my 25×25.

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