In her book, "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings," Maya Angelou describes one sunny afternoon when a couple from Little Rock visited her family's small store operated by her Uncle Willy who is physically disabled. Angelou was startled to realize that for the only time in her life she was witnessing her uncle's deception; Uncle Willy was pretending to not be lame. Early in the book Angelou describes her impression of that afternoon:
             I'll never know why it was important to him that the couple (he said later that he'd never seen them before) would take a picture of a whole Mr. Johnson back to Little Rock. He must have tired of being crippled, as prisoners tire of penitentiary bars and the guilty tire of blame. The high-topped shoes and the cane, his uncontrollable muscles and thick tongue, and the looks he suffered of either contempt or pity had simply worn him out, and for one afternoon, one part of an afternoon, he wanted no part of them. (p.11)
             Angelou is one of my favorite authors, and her description of Uncle Willy's feeling of alienation is beautiful. Furthermore, I identify with Uncle Willy's desire to appear normal, if only "for one afternoon," for a more important reason than just enjoying Angelou's work. When I first read it, this episode reminded me of my childhood, and my desire to be accepted into the "popular" clique. I spent most of my younger years trying to be someone that I am not, just to fit in.
             Her background gives an insight, if not an explanation, of Mother's illness. Mother grew up and was educated in Indiana and had always lived up to the image of a "perfect" daughter. She was never a moment's trouble to her parents, making straight A's in school and graduating valedictorian of her class.
             Mother had set impossibly high standards for herself in order to measure her self worth. Retrospectively, it seems inevitable that my mother would, at some point, have to fall short of her standards. She did--becoming...