nursing home
January 30, 2010
- My mother Rayanna never graduated from high school. She lived in Arkansas as a child, on a farm, and grew up during the Great Depression of the 1930s. Maybe she ran around without shoes; I don’t know, but I suspect she did. She knew how to pick cotton and hitch a mule. She could make corn bread (she called it corn pone) in a big black iron skillet. And she played the piano from a very early ...
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August 2, 2009
- Sunday is a strange old day, isn't it. I mean you wake up and think thank god I'm awake and then it dawns on you that it's Sunday and well, it as in the day and you, seem empty and at odds with the world. Maybe I am blaming my own feelings on Sunday but it is a kind of stop day, the end of the week and in turn an anti climax of sorts. You look back on the Monday and Wednesday and Thursday and ...
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October 10, 2008
- My sister Liz is eating tropical fruit salad tonight…not in the tropics though…from a container in a refrigerator in a nursing home…a place she lives now. A place where she never planned to spend any time…a place she didn’t fill out a change of address for. She has no choice here except to rely on the comfort and care of strangers….and often that reliance brings her only frustration, ...
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July 27, 2008
- Repositioning one's home office means going though a lot of papers. What to discard and what to keep? In the midst of the chaos, I came across a picture of my sister on a horse when she was a little girl (a keeper), re-read two volumes of poetry ("Thoughts" and "Second Thoughts") that she wrote when she was twenty and twenty-one respectively and the world seemed bright and ...
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