Dear Keith

Dudder, dudder, ding!(Old family joke.)  Time's up!

Keith Edwin R****** was born on 8/1/1961 in a USAF hospital at Evreux Air Force Base in France.  He is the youngest of three children and the most irresponsible, which I suppose go hand in hand if you believe in that birth order thing. He has two sons (I hear one of them made it into an Ivy League school) that the rest of the family has no idea where they are or what they are doing. Just like their father.

They show as little respect for their grandmother as their father does for his mother. Somehow, this is not surprising. This is not a black thing, this is a spoiled brat who for the last few years hasn't had the world go his way. I have not one iota of sympathy since my whole life has been like that and I still manage to respect my mother and I try to do the right thing.

Nineteen years ago, Keith decided that he was going to show my father who was boss. He didn't talk to him for a year until I interfered (is that my role?) and got them to talk on the phone. I used the excuse that his father could drop dead at any moment and he was wasting time that could never be recovered. They finally talked and seven months later our father dropped dead of a heart attack at 60.

So once again, here I go. You don't owe your mother money (actually you do but we are willing to forgive that debt) so quit treating her like a creditor. Give her a call using the instructions I wrote earlier or even more personal stuff will be revealed, because unlike you I have nothing left to lose.

Remember when you were three and kissed Karen in the baby pool? I know other assorted details of your life that you would prefer to forget so you had best get to calling your mom before it's too late.