“Not a Good Idea”

I’ll tell you what is not a good idea, JoAnn. 

You continuing to suck air, while low paid black and brown people try to make you comfortable, ensure you have food and medicine, and generally keep you alive while others without these resources suffer…while you continue to thumb your nose at humanity. That’s what’s not a good idea. 

I’m furious with you for your failure to protect my brother and I and your ongoing selfishness and self pity. You have two quality adult children in close proximity. One you use. The other you dismiss. At least my cruel, abusive father had the good grace to die twenty years ago ending his reign of terror. 

It is against my general principles to wish someone dead but you really push the envelope. 

Will I ever see you again? I hope not. Unfortunately, you regularly appear in my dreams and not in a good way. That’s how I see dead people. Most of whom I embrace with love. You, I tolerate because you are actually my biological mother. You gave me a few creative gifts. The rest of my upbringing fell to the love of others. It’s apparent that was for the best. 

So not a good idea is you lying there on bemoaning your lot in life. Surviving well isn’t handed to us. We have to work for it. You have failed the test. I am furious with you which means I’m profoundly hurt. I have to live with that and never allow it to eat me up. 

Not a good idea, indeed.

Joceile 

9.23.25

P.S. It’s my Granny’s 116th birthday. She was a good idea. I’m glad you named me after her. I wear it proudly. 

Photo: Butchie (the dog), Uncle Virgil, JoAnn, Granny (Lucille) and Grandpa (Joe), and one year old Joceile (1958)