Friday, November 30, 2007

one month in the life of...

A windy day: my grandmother's hair is flying!

Tonight we workshopped a poem I wrote about my grandfather called "Luminary." I have some good suggestions I plan to use in the next few days as I rework the poem. I hope to one day let all of you know where you can purchase your own copy--

I also came home to the news that my grandfather has been taken to the hospital. I am uncertain what this means, though it usually means the same thing when it comes to an Alzheimer's patient.

When we went to Michigan, just days ago, really, I kept expecting to hear him humming down the hallway, the trademark shuffle of his slippers on carpet. I kept expecting him to thud his hand on my shoulder, ask me how teaching was, if I read any good books lately. Maybe ask the question a few times, but still there, his bass voice rumbling through the house. Instead, the clock was still, the rooms were devoid of the television blaring Law & Order, and my grandma was alone.

I hate to think of it this way--that this is how the house will sound from now on. That the lake won't know the shushing of his boat, the methodic pace of his swimming, the timber of his voice.

It's hard to say good-bye in stages like this.

1 comment:

Eireann said...

sorry to hear this, molly. hope all's well. xox