Mom Mom and Pop Pop, pass the Zoloft.
My grandmother, my father's mother Mom Mom, was a world-class nutjob. She was off her rocker. I'm not sure if she was always that way or if it was a result of being married to my grandfather. I think we all have a little crazy in us and it's just a matter of time before it comes out, at least in my family that's how it works. Sometimes I do, think or say something a bit off and I think, ‘It’s happening!’ When I was a little tyke would visit Mom Mom and Pop Pop occasionally on Sunday afternoons. Pop Pop worked the night shift and would be asleep upstairs. Mom Mom would shuffle us into the living room and insist we play the piano with all of our might, “You have to really press the keys down hard!” My parents would discourage us, but Mom Mom was persistent, and we played our little hearts out. While we played, she’d tell stories of waking up in the night because someone or something sat on the edge of the bed or hearing noises in the house or things missing. My brother
