My grandparents on my mother's side were mysterious to me.
She was a haunting, disembodied voice wailing from their dark bedroom like a cartoon ghost and he had a dog named "cactus."
Her
t
Her
twisted parentage was the only explanation I had for my mother's bizarre
behavior. She painted landscapes, but not with colors found in nature.
She read me to sleep with poetry instead of bedtime stories. She took
me to movies I couldn't understand. She hallucinated. She imagined that
something otherwordly was growing inside her. She thought men with beards
were at the window. She took me out of school once to go to an imaginary
place to meet an imaginary man. And, unlike most of the
other kids' mothers, she was pretty.
wisted parentage was the only explanation I had for my