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{Reservations} {Tickets} {Map} {Photos} {Souvaniers} {Postcards} {Design} 2002-11-18 | 1:23 a.m. Back in the day, when my sister and Mother and I lived down the road a bit, I always knew I could go home. My Mom would be there, and either angry or happy with me, but nonetheless she wanted me home. It mattered to her, and she missed me when I was gone for a while. Right now she's become slightly senile and can't manage to call me by the right name some days. Aunt Mary had a comfortable home in a nearby town, and stopped by to visit frequently. She too was always feeling 'something' about my exploits and adventures, all the while happy to see me. She missed me when I was gone, too. The lady was self-taught in almost every subject, and could carry on a conversation on a wide variety of topics. Shakespeare, opera, good Italian food, painting in oils, knitting, learning... all things she adored. She's been dead for years, but we have a still-life of hers hanging in the kitchen. My boys stepped on and destroyed a wonderful oil painting she did, one of her mother (my Grammy) holding me when I was 4 months old. That happened over 15 years ago, and it still hurts to remember it, but you know what, Diary? She didn't even yell. Because 'her Joey' and 'her Timmy' accidentally damaged it, so she forgave. Presently, my only sibling wants nothing to do with me because she's lost her mind. (long story, i'll have to update you soon) My Dad is a clown, a crazy crappy cripple of a clown. He's angry with himself for not making his family a priority years ago. We want nothing to do with him. *sigh* oh well. I'm racking my brain to come up with just one other adult who I want to come back to, or would miss me when I'm gone. I keep thinking I'm forgetting someone. But I'm not. There just isn't anyone. It's feels weird to realize that you could drop off the face of the earth and (aside from my kids) no one would blink. Miss These? absence of life - 2003-07-28 |
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