Drug her again...

Amy Beaudin
Jun 1, 2021
3 min read

The situation quickly goes south after a beautiful breakfast at Balleseede Castle in Kerry, Ireland.

While we wrap up our amazing breakfast with a long deliberate cup of coffee, we chat with the waitress. Super lovely lady, who I would come to loathe. We talk about our driving plans for the day and she's excited to give us some insight on our first route through Connor’s Pass.

“Stunning, just stunning…life changing…some of the most beautiful views in Ireland,” she says.

My mom and sister look at each other excited. Then the waitress takes my empty teacup, “just be sure to approach Connor’s Pass with the main flow of traffic. The pass is two-way but only big enough for one car at a time. It’s quite treacherous.” Then she walks away.

Ughhhh..why couldn’t she have stopped with “some of the most beautiful views in Ireland.”

Panic stricken, my mother looks at me. “Amy, what does she mean?” Her eyes are like a child looking for help and reassurance.

“It’s mountains mom, that’s why it's a beautiful ride. I'll drive carefully and take it slow.”

“Oh, I don’t know Amy, I’m scared…” She trails off, deep in thought. My mother is petrified by heights. This is an ongoing theme in our travels. She refuses to do something because it is too high, I apply some tough love, she finally caves. But roads on cliffs...that terrifies her the most. I can see that she's actually upset, but the Ring of Kerry is the main reason we came to Ireland, so there's NO WAY I'm skipping this drive.

I get up to pay the bill and she follows me, I can see her panic growing. After paying the bill, she says she doesn’t want to do it - she just can't. She's starting to get tears in her eyes.

Now what do I do? I can't leave her. I know that if I can get her on that mountain - where she can see the beauty - she will be happy she pushed through her fear. But, this time, I'm not sure I can convince her.

"Please, Amy."

Perhaps other daughters would change plans, alter course. I could alter course, but I know she can do this. I just have to get her in the car.

“Mom, where's your Xanax.”

I had convinced her to get a prescription from the doctor for her nerves, for this exact reason. She has yet to use it. She doesn't believe it will work.

"That's not going to help, Amy."

"Mom…we are doing this. We came here to see the best of Ireland. We are NOT missing this. Where's your Xanax?" Mom points to her purse. Nicole starts rummaging through it.

She's getting agitated. I've seen this before. She is heading towards hysteria. “Xanax can’t take away the fact that we're driving on cliffs, on the wrong side of the road, you just started driving here. It’s not going to work, Xanax can’t handle fear.”

Nicole hands me mom's prescription.

I look at my mom – she’s a disaster, “I'm sorry mom, you need to take this now or I'm leaving you here.”

45 minutes later – Mountains in view, peaks hidden by clouds

Mom’s sitting in the middle of the back seat of the car. She’s been quiet and stewing. She pops her head in between us. “Amy, look. There’s really no point in even going up there. You won’t be able to see anything. I think we should find a different road to go on.” She looks to my sister for an ally.

I ignore my mother and turn to my sister. “Shouldn’t that Xanax be working by now?”

NICOLE: She only took half.

ME: Well that clearly wasn't enough. She needs the full dose.

MOM: I told you it wouldn’t work, it can’t work on fear!

ME: Just take the other half, I can still leave you on the side of the road.

MOM: Fine.

30 minutes later – On top of the mountain

I hear my mom talking to no one in particular “it’s so beautiful…words can’t describe. A picture can’t do it justice. Can we just stop here and climb up the side of the mountain like those people.”

Thank you, Xanax.