Memories
I have memories of fishing with my grandfather when I was little. I remember that every Christmas until I was 9 he would buy me a red dress. When I was 10 he bought me a baby doll because he knew that soon, if not already, I would be to big to buy such toys for. But most importantly I remember that way he smiles, the way he talks, the way he curses at my grandmother when she's done something wrong...
And now he's in the hospital, everyone says he's fine, but among the whispers you know he's not... He doesn't know my grandmother... He doesn't know who he is... And I don't want to remember this. I don't want to see this for fear of remembering. More than anything else in the world I don't want to step foot near Graham... I don't want to step a foot near the shell that was my grandfather, but couldn't possibly still be because it is our memories that make us who we are... Memmories create our personality, our morals, our hopes, our dreams, our life... but if I don't go to that horrid place that contains the ill and disabled I'll be the bad grandchild, the one that didn't care-- When in reality I care so much I don't want to disrespect the good memories that are full of life and love...
But for some reason I can't tell them this. And I know if I were to try they wouldn't listen. It wouldn't be the first time that no one has listened. So this afternoon I am off to the hospital... the last place I want to be.
And now he's in the hospital, everyone says he's fine, but among the whispers you know he's not... He doesn't know my grandmother... He doesn't know who he is... And I don't want to remember this. I don't want to see this for fear of remembering. More than anything else in the world I don't want to step foot near Graham... I don't want to step a foot near the shell that was my grandfather, but couldn't possibly still be because it is our memories that make us who we are... Memmories create our personality, our morals, our hopes, our dreams, our life... but if I don't go to that horrid place that contains the ill and disabled I'll be the bad grandchild, the one that didn't care-- When in reality I care so much I don't want to disrespect the good memories that are full of life and love...
But for some reason I can't tell them this. And I know if I were to try they wouldn't listen. It wouldn't be the first time that no one has listened. So this afternoon I am off to the hospital... the last place I want to be.