(no subject)
My dad's mom, Grandma Kinker, used to visit us maybe twice a year. She stayed in my room when we lived in our old house but she doesn’t really visit anymore. She would always wear hose under her elastic white pants with white strappy orthopedic sandals and you could see all the veins in her thin lotioned hands. She smelled like Oil of Olay. My dad told me that my grandma could sometimes accidentally read minds, usually when she didn’t want to. She would be having coffee with friends in her living room and suddenly hear their thoughts in her own head. One time she saw a white figure run through her kitchen and then her phone rang and the person on the other end told her one of their friends had just died and she said "I know. I just found out." I remember her sitting on my bed, strapping her sandals to her feet and trying to think nice things. I remember very specifically thinking, as loudly as I possibly could Grandma, that is beautiful red toenail polish on your toes and honestly expecting her to look up and say "Thank you."