I had begun conjuring up everything I had ever read about crossing over, the light, and near death experiences. I only hoped Mum would be problem free for the first time. No more creditors calling her phone. No more deranged bosses demeaning her. No more hoping to win the lottery. No more hoping. No more disappointment in her choices. No more suffering. I hoped she would finally possess the peace I’d always wished for her, even if it weren’t in the gorgeous hillside community of Summerland, California with an easel and paintbrush in her hand (always my own Nancy Meyers directed personal dream for her, never her own). I more wished she’d snap out of this nightmare and, ironically, drink another one of her damned beers and put me down in some rude, familiar fashion.
Excerpt from chapter one | wild horses | EVERYTHING'S HUNKY DORY: A MEMOIR