I remember visiting my grandmother, well she wasn’t my real grandmother, she was married to my grandfather and then he died and she was all alone.
I was always trying to be kind. I was in my late teens.I took her sisters to visit her when she was in a home way out in long island. It was over 2 hours away.
I had a lark studebaker. It was a small car and these two old women insisted on sitting in the front seat and they both smoked.
At first I was sorry I made the effort but when I saw them all together it was looking at me and my sisters. They were laughing and they saw each other as they were when they were young. My grandmother was the pretty one etc etc.
It brought to mind the time I visited my grandmother while she still lived in the Bronx. She was showing me her clothes.
“See?” she said “I don’t have any dark colors. Inside I’m the same as I’ve always been”.
She was lucky. She still saw the inside girl. But I”m afraid that it’s disappearing from my image of myself.
We all laughed at the chicken incident but it scared me to my core. And I know it scared Stephanie because she loves me and she was scared that I was losing it.
No matter how much I went over it I couldn’t imagine what happened to that chicken. I was so sure I put it back. But I don’t trust myself any more.
After the mystery was solved I breathed a sigh of relief.
But that cunt Donna can kiss my ass for bringing it that much closer.
Oh and another thing. When I visited my grandmother in the home she told me that they took the picture of my grandfather away because it made her sad.
I went to the dresser and got the picture and gave it to her.
A person should be allowed to grieve.