When Life Hands You Avocadoes, Make Guacamole!

When a family member is getting himself or she further and further into a hot mess, it's not the kind of thing you can sit and watch, asking someone to please pass the popcorn, cheering on, as an already incredible bad situation gets entirely worse. So, you wait it all out, all alone. This is just one of those points in life where the world presses hard against you, and you choose to begin slicing avocadoes, because, well, it is often better than the slicing of your own wrists. You stand in fear, or more accurately, of whatever is going to be happening next, and the "whatever", well it looks damn scary from any vantage point. Your immediate responses come, not from your brain, they are always the afterthought, but from your emotions, two part adrenaline, one part intelligence. This is one of those stories that any brilliant agent will tell you to avoid, like the plague, or malaria. You press your lips together and ask god, anyone's god, to help this person who has just damned you to go to hell, with any and all needed adjectives to better firmly drive the acknowledgement home. You keep on slicing those darn avocadoes until you could more readily supply all of Eastern Europe with guacamole. You tighten your chest, abdominal muscles; keep a stiff upper lip, as you ride the storm out. You keep on with the prayers, and disallow taking responsibility for every fellow human beings actions. As you get lost in all of your thoughts, and look down, you see the trickles of barely there blood on the floorboards. It is then, that you realize that you have cut your finger. It is then that you realize, you are the writer, the poet, the mother, the comforter, the mystic tamer of all things bad, but you are not the miracle worker needed. You realize, of all things, you too, are only human, and there are sometimes that life needs to be left up to the gods, when the blue turns suddenly black. So, you begin to eat the avocado slices, and forget all about making the damn guacamole.