Finding Trees
Aimless. With no clear plan of going somewhere, no “there” to get to, there is also no clear plan on how to get home.
write. rewrite. typewrite.
Aimless. With no clear plan of going somewhere, no “there” to get to, there is also no clear plan on how to get home.
There are words that make me sad: Ma looks me in the eye, "You're really so good to me." Sometimes followed by an "I love you." I don't doubt she loves me, but I'm never sure if she means what she's saying at that moment, or if it's part of her survival mechanism—staying on the …
They say if you want to make God laugh, tell him/her your plans. Her doctor said, "Starting thinking about plans for palliative care." That's not funny, God.
Object Permanence is the why in why Peek-A-Boo is such a blast, why babies are surprised AF every time you appear again. The other end of the spectrum I call Object Impermanence in adults with dementia. That rock solid knowledge that when something or someone is out of sight or sound, that thing or person is simply…gone for good and for ever.
There is no aide today, only Big E & me. Tomorrow is our anniversary, Ma and me living together for the last two years. Both still alive, older and tireder than when we started. Outside, there's a raging pandemic & it's 90-hell-degrees. Inside, we have each other.