novembre ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- the quilt we made together twenty one years ago is rotting. woke up to find out that grandma is in the hospital again. chugging along like a steam engine for 85 years and all of a sudden, last fall she fell and wouldn't let me look into her crestfallen face. embarrassed in her paper thin gown, her weekly hair appointment (kept for decades; i have a funny story about scotland and grandma's hair helmet to tell you later) unkept for weeks. she's a collected woman. she's the one thing that never changed. except last fall when she fell and now there are anxiety attacks she can't handle and beehived vultures swooping in to lay claim to her furniture. cunning old ladies with beady eyes, forked tongues and fast hands are circling closer and closer. her mobile home park recycles furniture this way; it is unwittingly left to the most aggressive. the aggressive are what's left after her dignity is gone, after her sight and possibly also her hearing are failing, after she can't recognize anything else. 7:26 am - 03.06.05 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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