Magnum Opus: Irreverence

All right kids, I now know what it feels like to lose a Faux Ma. I have to admit I feel bad for Boyfriend. After all, no one likes to have a dead mom.

I really, morbidly so, wanted to be in the room when Faux Ma passed to the other side. I've never seen a person die before. Unfortunately I was in the kitchen when it happens. Figures. No, I wasn't stuffing my face. In fact it was even kind of hard to sip on my Diet Dr. Pepper while in the sick house. I was with Boyfriend and the nurse ladies talking about how soon it would be before she dies. Five minutes into the conversation Faux Pa came ~~running~~ toddling out of the bedroom and uttered his usual words, "you better come." That's when one of the nurse ladies said, "she's gone."

Yeah, I was a little disappointed to miss the moment of truth. I hoped to see a glimmer of "the light" in her face. That's assuming she was going toward "the light" and not the firey pits of hell. One never knows for sure, except in my case where I just assume I'll visit the firey pits of hell for all the nasties I pull on this blog.

I guess someone up there figured it was enough for me to see all I did while Faux Ma was dying. The caregivers did a hell of a job keeping her nice and dignified while cancer ate away her body. It bothered me when she wanted her feet "untied." That meant she wanted her feet outside the blanket and sheet. Faux Ma had the biggest feet I've ever seen on a woman, really long and narrow. And her big toes curled up, like cartoon hillbilly toes.

It was disgusting. And there they were, hanging out for all of us to see. Of course it didn't bother anyone as much as it did me, hater of all things feet.

Little did I know cartoon hillbilly feet would be preferable to what came one day when Faux Ma was just a tad agitated. The caregiver was straightening out the sheets and taking the pillow out from between her thin little legs. And then I saw it. The cooter. AAAGGGHHH! Yep, I got a free shot of Faux Pa's wife's cooter. And he saw me see it. He was all embarrassed and hated that I saw the precious jewel of his pleasure. So I was torn between feeling utter horror for seeing Faux Ma's naughty bits and gut-busting hysterics over Faux Pa's fidgeting over my glimpse.

It's ironic how life bites you in the ass. This was just one more point in favor of my theory that everything that brings you shame in life will reveal itself fully in your death and dying. Faux Ma was reserved and would never even think of telling a sex joke. She was all about appearances. She cared way too much what people thought of her and her family. If she realized her little veejayjay was out for all to see her mortification would have taken her life well before the cancer did.

It will be a long time before the mental image of that from which Boyfriend passed at birth leaves me. And longer still the annoyed look Faux Pa shot me, as if I had violated his wife's modesty on purpose. Perhaps on Mother's Day I'll get a little remembrance for Faux Pa...