To Care or Not to Care

My bio-mother called last night and left yet another drunken message. We weren't home, but truth be told I wouldn't have answered the phone even if we had. Thank goodness for Call I.D. It has been almost 14 months to the day since the last time she called, drunk. In fact in the last three years, all three phone calls have been while under the influence. My theory is that it takes enough alcohol to get this alcohlic drunk enough (to slur) before she can summon up the nerve to pick up the phone and dial in a vane attempt to reach out to her oldest child. She has said to me a number of times over the years, "Remember, you're my first born, Ginger." Clearly she is implying that first born means something special. But I have no real memories of feeling the kind of special she wants me to feel.