It’ll be a year on Monday since Grandad died. It seems like a lot longer, so much has changed in my life. I’ve moved when I didn’t think I’d be able to swing it financially for a couple of years still. So many things have happened. Losing Grammie only six months later. It doesn’t seem possible we could’ve had so much death so close together. It doesn’t seem possible that night we stayed up until dawn drinking wine could have been only a year ago, a group not likely to assemble in quite the same way again — me, the two stacys, evan, my sisters, dad . . . we joked that we’d get mom to make doughnuts for the boy at 2am, sharing our Grandad stories, our memories of haying and the camp and lost summers long ago . . . and when everyone else left or went to bed, nearly 20 years since the last time, just the original cast members, as natural as if we’d only yesterday said good bye, sharing pain and secrets and garbage that in the 80’s we never imagined we’d have in our lifetimes . . . nothing is as it was supposed to be . . . everything is as it should be. What a bizarre timewarp and gift during a terrible time. A night to remember and cherish.
Drinking: organic tea
Listening To: Death Cab for Cutie, I’ll Follow You Into the Dark
Hair: out of sight, out of mind