My uncle, that is. As near as anyone can tell, he's blown through $2 million in the last two years.
He can't travel, he hasn't given much away, and no, it wasn't heavy stock market losses. I dearly wish it was one of those things, because the truth just confirms my fears that his mind is tapioca.
at the Grand Victoria Casino.
He won't go to doctors, he hasn't monitored his health, but he can somehow make it to the slots.
While the mental deterioration this indicates scares me, I'm also ambivalent about it. Because I am still going to promise him that his beloved Bennie, an aloof old gray tabby, is forever comfortable and welcome in my home. And this will be one of the first things I've been able to do for him that he knows is because I love him and appreciate the kindnesses he has shown me over the years, not because I'm trying to get into the will.
I have a magnet on my refrigerator that says, "My family is a freak show without the tent." I feel that way these days. I really do.