cabbage and noodles
why is she talking of what goes to whom when she's dead and gone
her wedding rings
a braclet my late grandfather pounded out for her
when he was in the foundry in his navy days
she tells me to put it on
"it fits you better then me" she remarks
on the inside she just discovered last week
was an engraving
"with love, for my dearest
albina, john
1945"
dying, we all are but what will take that last breath?
"why are we talking of death i ask her"
and she replies
"because it is time"
and i tell her to not say that
she said "i am living because God wants me to be;
i am not living because it's what i want"
i tell her half jokingly
"at this rate you won't even see one of us married, let alone are kids"
and she chuckles
"yeah, i don't think any of you will ever get married"
i exclaim in protest "i don't think danielle would, but i think i will"
she says "that's true, i think you are the most likely..."
and i ask her if she would like to know when she is dying
she said yes
i asked why
"so i could prepare myself" and i can't remember if she said "for him" or not
but i know it's what she was thinking
and her eyes start to look glassy to me
mine start to brim with tears
and i don't know how i can still say this
but i don't believe
something made that tear jerk down my cheek
something ridiculous to me
she is so devote
to everyone
and only herself because God made her too
she is the least selfish person i've ever met
and i don't want to ever be
powerless, blinded, hopeful
like her
but how else would marriage ever work,
can i be forever okay
with not having all the answers
why we are here, where we are going, and what comes after?
she doesn't know why God wants her here
she just says he does
and i say "oh" in response to her "preparation" as i wipe away tears
it's too late, she saw them anyways
and she goes on to say
"but if it is God's will to not have me know when i am going...."
and i said "you mean if you start to lose your mind" and she says
"yes"
she said "then i will want that too
I want whatever he wants for me"
she is in his hands.
i've grown regretful and tiresome of decisions and making them
and what i've made of them
some things i've done in this last summer were not me at my best.
perhaps i'd be better to give it all up into
someone else's hands
the tree is getting cut down next week
my grandma says it is sick.
i take some pictures of it, i'm pissed to hear it "has to go"
i ask her all these questions of "why" and protests of "you can't"
i have pictures of me climbing it when i was a little girl
but the bark is falling off
it looks sad and alone
it looks gone
the light is shining on it funny
as if i'm looking at it through dead curtains
old antiqued veils
like her bedroom did in the early evening gloom that day
when i went to put away the bracelet
i feel a little sick and while i've only been standing 21 years
i'm not even sure it would be nearly as heartbreaking as losing the tree
if someone were to cut me down.