Wouldn’t Change a Thing Read Online Free PDF Page B

reasons. Lamonte promised me in the beginning of our relationship we’d work through everything. Sickness. Morning breath. Career moves.
    I see Russ and Clay’s stamp of approval T-shirt on top of my clothes box. I hoist the carton in my arms as the state trooper brings the shoes and souvenirs. Three steps into my journey, the voice of pre-emphysema Clay fills my head, saying, “Don’t you ask that man another damn question! You are Antoinette Maria Williamson. I raised you to hold your head high and be proud!”
    I nod at the words. I hear them, want to absorb them, but the box slips from my arms and everything goes blank.

Chapter 6

Greta
    M avis and Clayton were dead wrong for giving away my children like they did. They didn’t discuss the matter with me and didn’t care about my feelings, one way or the other. After one of my breaks at the Hatcher Square Mall back in the 1980s, they made the choice to separate the girls, claiming I was a bad influence on them. I didn’t find out about Toni until after the deed was done. Who does that to someone? I was and still am capable of taking care of my children. I may be a resident of the Georgia Mental Hospital, but I have a right to see my children.
    I know Mavis’s saddity self is mad because I took my story to the AJC . What started out as a how-do-you-feel-about-your-treatment-here story turned into my personal rant on how family treats the mentally ill. Not that I’m mentally ill, I just get a little crossed up sometimes. The only reason I’m crossed up is the medication they give out around this place. They act like it’s cotton candy at the State Fair. How is a person supposed to make rational decisions if you feel like you’re floating on the moon all the time? Just call me Sally Ride and give me a white spacesuit, because some days, I don’t know whether I’m coming or going. Wait, Sally’s deceased. I’m sorry, Jesus, I didn’t mean to mock the dead. I’m waiting. I’m waiting. Whew, Jesus just winked, nodded, and said the comment wasn’t mocking Sally.
    I took to hiding pills under my tongue and pretending to swallow them while the nurse is standing over me. Annalease, my roommate, taught me that trick. I slip the pills in my pocket when the nurse turns her back. My latest drug is Depakote. I know I’m in trouble when they give me a pink one, because it renders me helpless and keeps my visitors away. Abilify, Remeron, and Haldol do the same thing if I take them on schedule. I get more visitors when I take the Zyprexa. I have three people who come to see me on a regular basis: Jesus, Mahalia Jackson, and Clark Gable.
    I know the doctors and nurses make fun of me all the time when I say Jesus is with me always. The first time I shared my Jesus secret with Dr. Wells, he asked, “Do you mean Hay-Suess?” I looked him straight in the eye and said, “Jesus is a celestial being; Hay-Suess is Latino.” I pointed to Jesus sitting on Annalease’s bed. Dr. Wells said he understood, then upped my medicine dosage.
    Don’t you believe that carpenter mess. Jesus has a coat of colors, Brooks Brothers’ suits, hiking gear, all kinds of clothes. Not once has he come in my room with bib overalls or paint-stained boots. He’s a Renaissance man. He truly is everywhere at the same time. He comes through the window most days when he visits. Plops right down on Annalease’s bed and asks me how I’m doing, if my arthritis is flaring up, how the doctors and nurses are treating me. He is my friend, indeed He is.
    I fell out with Jesus when Paul left us in 1982. Felt like He ran for the hills and took His time coming back. Then I lost my teaching job. Then the house. Then the few friends I fellowshipped with from time to time. Then the children. In a span of nine months, everything secure in my life disappeared. I’m talking David Copperfield-poof.
    Mahalia came to me