My grandmother died a few weeks ago. I haven't talked about it much. I'm not trying to keep it secret, it just hasn't come up in conversation. It's been more of a relief than anything else. That sounds horrible doesn't it.
My grandfather is in a memory care facility. He thinks he's on a trip to Europe and staying in a hotel. He thinks he has been pick pocketed and cannot pay his bill. Every time we show up to visit him, he thinks he's going home with us and gets mad when we leave without him.
We went through their house today. There are lots of trinkets, papers, and furniture. There's nothing of any interest to me - well, except for one of those expensive wine openers. I guess that's all we leave behind when we die. Trinkets, papers, and furniture. What else is there?
"I find patriotism not only a refuge of scoundrels but of idiots and those who like to buy their thinking ready-made each morning in the vacuous newspapers. Every decade or so governments create wars and whip up a frenzy, so that we will not notice the shortcomings of our own side and will not question the assumptions of our society and demand more rational institutions and laws." -Marge Piercy, Gone to Soldiers
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