i need a piece of liver, because mine is shot. she told me.
your sister said she'd give me a piece of hers, and i can't figure out why you don't love me enough to offer me a piece of yours. this is why i am so much closer to clarissa than you.
i sat, stunned. all of that swirled around in my head, trying to make sense of what is on, what she was babbling about.
i leaned forward, and spoke slowly. mother, i said to her, trying to keep my temper, mother--i can't give you a piece of my liver because our blood types don't match, because i am 25 and you are 65, so why should i give up a huge part of myself and finally, i have cancer. but, i'm betting my cancer riddled liver is still in better shape than clarissa's.... or have you put aside the fact she's a hard core drinker??
she blinked once. twice. settling into her chair, she spoke with dismissal of my comments-- perhaps you are right, but, at LEAST she offered.
i knew then i'd never win, and left knowing i was finally okay with my decision to not speak to either of them ever again. with that thought, there came the discovery i was smiling...and life looked good.
(okay, i adjusted the last sentence... )