Split

Poor Alice Guttenbury had no idea what her mother meant when she warned Alice to see a
psychiatrist because she was split. Alice had never heard such words from her mother,
especially on her mother’s death bed. Alice also begins a diary suggested by her dying mother.
This little book is the diary that helped Alice understand why mother said she was split. This is a
humorous tale full of surprises written in the form of a diary.

Excerpt

Dear Diary:

Mother passed away last month. I've been crying a lot. Sometimes mother was not so nice to
me. Most of the time she really liked me. She looked so beautiful in the casket. I never saw her
so peaceful. Aunt Naomi and Uncle William came all the way from Wyoming. They're very
rich. They actually live on a mountain side. Uncle Dan and Auntie Linda came too, even though
they've been divorced for eight years. Aunt Naomi gave me quite a few strange looks and
whispered a lot to Auntie Linda. She came right up to me and said I'd have to stand on my own
two feet, now that mother's gone. I've always taken care of myself. She really doesn't know me.

Auntie Linda gave me a beautiful white gold necklace. She said it was from my great
grandmother. One never knows when Auntie Linda is bragging or lying. She's been an
alcoholic since I can remember. Uncle Dan always covered up for her. When she hugged me, I
thought I was going to get sick. The alcohol came right out of her skin through her pores. I tell
you it was a really strange funeral. No one kissed Mother goodbye. Everyone was busy talking.
I think they were talking about me. They looked over several times and stared at me. My aunts
are a little strange, but they all meant well.

Of course Dad wasn't there. He’s been dead eleven years. I'll miss mother just as much, though
I got used to dad being gone. For some odd reason, I didn't miss dad very much.
Lots of people came. I didn't know most of them. I wish they'd get my name straight. Alice is
not really difficult to remember. I suppose I should feel insulted, but mother taught me to leave
people in their ignorance. She always said, “Don’t let someone else’s ignorance ruin your life.”

Poor mother got really weird the last week while she was dying. She made me promise I'd start
this diary, because I was split. That means I have several personalities. I have no idea how that
can happen to anyone. I think they were giving her too much morphine or something. Don't get
me wrong, I wanted her out of her pain too, but it made her ramble about ridiculous things. She
told me I had these blackouts. I certainly never remember ever having a blackout. Poor mother.
God bless her.
 Grandma was wearing traditional black. She stayed right beside me all through the funeral. I
guess it's really terrible losing a child, though mother was fifty-six. Grandma said mother took
too many pills. She did have a lot of pills in the bathroom cabinet. I could probably say there
were about seven bottles. There were diet pills, sleeping pills, tranquilizers, anti-depressants and
some others. I don't know why mother was so depressed all the time. She didn't seem to miss
dad. I always found that unusual.

I haven’t seen Grandma since dad’s funeral. She called me a tramp once. She's up there in her
eighties, so I just brushed the remark aside like mother told me, but I never forgot it. I don’t like
it when she stares at me.

Mom and Dad got along most of the time, except when he was drinking and she must have been
taking too many pills. Well, I was kind of a daddy's girl. Maybe mother had a problem with
that, though she never said so. Me and daddy would sit up at night and play board games after
mother went to sleep. Sometimes she would be mad at me or dad for no reason at all.

Funny thing, even Mrs. Summers down the road was a bit strange at the funeral. She came over
and asked me if I was staying sober for the funeral. She's a sweetheart of an old woman, but
she's got memory problems. Always mixing me up with someone else. Maybe she has
Dementia. I wanted so bad to ask Grandma about the split thing, but she’s hard of hearing and
everyone in the room would have known what I was saying.

I think I'm going to like this diary thing. It seems to bring up old memories for me, although
some are not pleasant. I don’t feel so alone anymore. I really need to get to bed. We're having
a staff meeting first thing in the morning. I've got all those copies to make and the conference
room to straighten up.
Good Night Diary

Your new friend Alice