Obsessions

Mrs. Eufalia Lindsay told me the following story.  She and her son have been undergoing counseling for a reason I am not privileged to know because it isn't really relevant.  Mrs. Lindsay attended group therapy sessions at a large area hospital until she decided to quit last week.  Two other area mothers were also undergoing this therapy and Mrs. Lindsay reports they've discontinued treatment as well.

The psychiatrist sat in the middle and addressed each of the mothers and their children, "You all have obsessive desires and you have subliminally grafted your personality disorders onto your children." he said.

The psychiatrist first addressed Patient A and her daughter: "You have a fixation of food," he told the chubby lady from Lower Mills, "This is why you named your daughter Candy."  The girl looked up at her mother and asked, "Is that true?"  The mother said, "No."

The psychiatrist turned to Patient B and her daughter: "You are fixated with money.  You called your daughter Penny because you can't think of anything but money."  This family lives on Jones Hill and the mother walks every day from Jerome Street to the Upham's Corner rail station passing Sovereign Bank, Bank of America and Citizens Bank.  Penny looked down at her feet.  "You do say we can't afford things, Mommy," she said.  Her mother glowered at the psychiatrist and said to her daughter, "We can't afford a pony but we're not hurting."

Mrs. Lindsay had heard enough.  Before a snap, quack diagnosis could be applied to her, she took her son's hand.  "Come now, Dick.  It's time for us to head home," she said.

Mrs. Lindsay and her family live on the street that runs parallel to Shawmut Station and, like the other mothers, she does have an obsession.  It is an obsession with her surroundings.  It is an obsession with Dorchester.  The Lindsay family gets it mail delivered to their address on Nixon Street.