Oh, Possums I have been through hell and high water! From Dead Sea to Dead End. From my toes to my vagina back to my vagina, to my vagina, again and again and again.
It started off with a simple phone call.
My mother just left my house and I was burning real powerful incense that 
I picked up from the Chinaman’s West Indian Shop (the one I told you about before) to clear out the evil energies. Maaaybe it was my mother’s energies, I needed clearing out, maybe not. But, something was amiss even when I awoke this morning.
So, there I was getting the frankincense and myrrh ready to burn, when I realized that I forgot to buy charcoal to put underneath it, so then I had to take some paper and tear it into strips. I then headed to the bathroom to draw a bath.
The phone rang.
It was my brother.
He called to tell me that someone died.
“Mom’s dead isn’t she? I knew it!! I knew it!! They say that you should be careful what you wish for when you are angry with someone, cause it may really happen. How did it happen? Did she leave me any money? I bet she didn’t leave me any money! 
I know that she never forgave me for having to give up her career. What career? And it’s too late to get an early appointment for the hairdresser’s tomorrow and then I have to dust off my red sequin dress that I bought online, but that shouldn’t be a problem, cause I have it wrapped in plastic, and-”
“Are you going to let me finish?” asked my brother, Aleka.
“But, dear, I didn’t realize that you hadn’t even stopped!” I answered breathlessly.
“Mom, is not dead,” he stated.
“Oh….she’s not?” I asked.
“No,” he answered.
“Well, thank Christ! Oh my gosh, it’s Dad, isn’t it! Not, Dad. I love that man! Why didn’t God take me, first! I can’t go on living! How, in the hell did this happen? Was it the drink?” I asked.
“It’s not Dad. It’s your Aunt from your father’s side.” Side Note: I remember I have a Dad (who raised me along with my mother and then my Father, my biological one that I didn’t find out about until I was in my teens).
“Oh, do I know her? Not another funeral, I can’t take it! I just buried my half-sister and now another person. I don’t think I have another thing to wear that’s appropriate!”
“Or tasteful?” joked my brother.
“Why? The top I wore that time only had a little bit of sequins. And it was in black. I know, this time I will break out the 
hat with the fishnet on it. I will go as Dita Von Teese!” I exclaimed.
“Well, she died of cancer,” said my brother.
”Which, kind?” I asked.
“I don’t know! I don’t think Mom thought to ask. I don’t think she thought that it was the right time,” he said.
“Well, how hard is it to ask? They said she died. And you say of what? See, that ain’t hard!” I exclaimed.
“Anyways, I think that you should call your father and find out all the details and pay your respects,” said my brother.
“Why do I always have to call? It’s like I am you guy’s spokesperson for him!”
“You are his real daughter,” he answered.
“I guess!”
I then hung up and thought about death and living. I am not good at dealing with death. I once had a fish named Sonny. I 
named him after my favorite Uncle, also named Sonny. Anyways, I cared so much for this creature. If I could clothe and bathe him, I would. I loved him, so. But, one day Sonny wasn’t swimming anymore. He was just kind of laying on his rock. I called the fish store, and asked them what the hell and the man on the phone asked me what Sonny’s symptoms were. Symptoms? I told him that I hadn’t realized that you can take a fish’s temperature. He later died that evening. Or maybe it was earlier. All I know that someone out there lied and told me when fishes die, they are suppose to float to the top. Well, not all the time. Sonny sunk to the bottom and laid on his side.
Then the phone rang again.
It was my mother.
“Pronto?”
Side Note: Yes, Possums, I say “pronto” now. I am pretending I am the grande dame
of Italy-Miss Sophia Loren. Which is not a stretch cause we are the same shade. You know, I use to pretend I was Diana Ross, but then my doctor lowered my medication.
“Lucresia, it is about your aunt. She is alive!” shouted my mother.
“But, Aleka just called and said she died! That she got the cancer!” I exclaimed.
“Well, your father just telephoned and said that they made a mistake. She is alive!” cried my mother on the phone.
“Well, ain’t that a quick turn around of events! I guess there must be a back log up there in heaven,” I responded.
“Lucresia!!!!”
“It’s the
grief talking,” I said.
“Well, I guess it must be Jamaica or something else. I heard she lives in the country part. But, I don’t think they waited for the doctor to come and check her…so she’s alive!”
“Well, praise God,” I said.
“You should call your father. I think that he is packing to go down there.”
“Okay. Okay. I will do it right now, Ciao!” I said.
“What is “Ciao”?” asked my mother.
“It means good-bye,” I answered.
“So, you couldn’t just say bye?” asked my mother.
“Bye, Mom!”
“Au Revoir”
You know Possums, I don’t deal that well with the living sometimes. Once when I was a youngin’ I couldn’t 
sleep cause I just bought these fishes. They were in the living room and the motor of the fish tank was so loud! I got up and wondered what would happen, if I turned the motor off? I figured, they were already in water, what do they need the motor for? What harm would it do? Anyhoo, when I awoke they were still alive.
But, I digress.
I walked towards the bathroom. I just had to take a long luxurious shower to soothe my aching ample gallant-of-a- body, when the phone rang.
It was my mother.
Again.
“She dead!” my mother screamed.
“Who now?” I asked
“Your aunt. She dead!”
“For real this time,” I asked.
“Yes, she dead!” Side Note: Possums, I didn’t misspell, what my mother said. She is talking Jamaican Patois.
“And you sure she’s not coming back?” I asked.
“Yes, she dead!” shouted my mother.
“She most of looked around and asked herself what is there to stick around for?”
“What? That’s sound so bad,” laughed my mother.
“Have you seen his side of family?” I asked.
“No. But, that still sounds bad,” chuckled my mother.
And now that my mother was in a “laughing” type of mood. I asked her, “Mom, why did you have to sleep your way into his family?”
“Lucresia!!!!”
“It’s the grief talking,” I said.
Sometimes, Possums, you have to laugh or else you are going to cry.
I know.
It is such a stupid thing to say.
It’s the grief talking.
But, let me tell you Possums what a Stupida I am!
So, I took a fresh one out of the package and hoped for the best. And guess, what Possums, it worked!!!
r. Yes, that massage parlor!!! The den of iniquity! I had to cancel it, cause Possums, you know that I was not going back! Hell to the nah!!!
Heartbroken, Lucresia Linton decided to turn to the internet. She believes that if God gives you lemons, then you must order your very rude child to make you a pitcher of lemonade and go find an audience elsewhere!
