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Our wedding picture, my wife, Anthonette and I
She informed me that she did drugs while pregnant with me - marijuana and "black beauties", which apparently is a form of speed. Strangely, she admitted to only using heroin once.
My mother seemed friendly and coherent, if somewhat "dosed", while we talked during her brief phone calls. Unable to differentiate between callers and voices in her head, she had her telephone disconnected and called from pay-phones. I sent her a cell phone so that she wouldn't have to call from outside during the winter months in New Hampshire. But she didn't know how to use it. She invited me to meet her, apologizing in advance, for her baldness from the chemotherapy treatments. I asked for a week off from work and made plans with my sister, who wanted me to visit with her in Connecticut for a few days prior to my going to see my mother. We thought it would be a great idea to surprise my mother for her birthday, February 1.
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Big mistake.
The visit with my sister was a nightmare. Samantha, I would later learn from her social worker, had up to 23 different personalities, a condition she developed from years of sexual abuse at the hands of her grandparents while our mother was in the institution. She had also been H.I.V. positive since she was sixteen years old, which she contracted
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from a hemophiliac boyfriend. She currently has A.I.D.S. and is working as a hooker in a "full service" spa in Danbury, Connecticut.
My sister was the first blood relative I had ever met, and although quite thin, she closely resembled me.
I arrived on a Monday, and for the next two days she went to work, while I thoroughly cleaned her apartment. She seemed...»»
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