I don’t have a lot to blog about today. I’m tired. I waited at Waffle House for my friend last night and I didn’t get to sleep till 4am.
My buddy was married to his wife for 27 years. She died of lung cancer 6 months ago. He is lost most of the time and the two things that drives him is music and his mother-in-law’s drama.
He’s the drummer for my band and I know he means it when he says, “Gigs keep me sane.”
However, his mother-in-law is 79 years old and a crazy enabler supporting three grown, in their 40’s grown, children and one 21 year old grandson. My friend says, “My wife was the only one to escape.”
My friend’s wife was a nurse and fiercely independent.
“But Joanne worried about her mom,” my friend says. “And I promised to look in on the family and make sure ‘things’ were okay.”
Last night. I waited at the Waffle House for my friend to ‘okay things’ at his mother-in-law’s house. But, when he took his place at the table across from me, he said, “I couldn’t keep her grandson out of jail. I couldn’t keep her son from moochin’ off her. All I could do was make sure she had an ear.”
And, last night, that was all I could do for my friend.