Ivey's Journal

In the back seat of their car, I asked whether Dad had taken any pain pills before his death. His brother, Uncle Merlin, did not like to see my father suffering with back pain and often gave him prescription narcotics. My greatest fear was that my uncle might have accidentally overdosed Dad. Another member of the family expressed the same concerned, while my aunt repeated, “We just don’t know.” Then, I was admonished with: “Don’t mention a thing about this to your mother. That’s all she needs right now.” I meekly retorted, “I wasn’t going to,” wondering how inconsiderate these folks must think I am. Aunt Eva’s husband counseled, “Don’t mention this to any of the hospital staff, either. They’re trying to decide whether or not to perform an autopsy.” “Holy shit!” my mind postulated. “Daddy’s gone. My relationship with Mom is distant, at best, and I’m probably the last person she would like to have comforting her. Now, there’s a possibility that Uncle Merlin might be cha...

I’ll never forget the sound of that doorbell. Usually there is a knock at the side door, where the folks that know me will come to visit. This time, it was a ringing from the front entrance. My guess was that it was probably another religious zealot sent to “save me” or a solicitor. Much to my surprise, my maternal aunt and a cousin, Jennifer, were standing there with worried faces. I was baffled by their troubled expressions and wondered why they hadn’t used the side door. “I’ve been trying to call you for over an hour; but, the line was busy. Your mother needs you,” Aunt Eva explained. Bewildered, I questioned, “Why? What’s the matter?” My two relatives got a bit more specific. “Your father is very sick, and your mother needs you right now.” After inviting them in, I inquired further. “Exactly what happened to Dad? Is he all right?” “We’re not exactly sure what happened to him; but he’s real sick.” They continued, “He’s in the hospital, and your mom is waiting for y...