five thousand shades of blue
Wednesday, January 23, 2002
Yesterday was my grandfather's 88th birthday. Or so we thought. My Grandma dug up his birth certificate and as it turns out his birthday is actually today, the 23rd. It's weird, because we've always thought of the 22nd as his birthday. He is also in the late stages of Alzheimer's, and I don't think I will get to see him again before he dies. It is a twisted sort of comfort being so far away, because I don't know if I could handle seeing him now. I want to hang on to those memories I have of him being my Grandpa, not a shell of a man I don't recognize and who doesn't recognize me. I know the last time I saw him (in 1998) he knew me and he knew that I loved him. That has to be enough for me. I don't have much of a choice.
I'm not sure what else to say. I feel like the poetry has been sucked from my soul. I have fleeting, whispering thoughts of perfect vignettes of a busy life but they disappear before I can verbalize them. And then I think, They're not important anyway.
is
this just not enough…?
