I’ve stopped writing very personal bits here; universal as they may be, one segment or another of my family is offended, and sulks. That’s wearing, and not life advancing, so I’ve stuck for months with cookies and little boys and doorbells.
A bit of good news; the house is sold, to a person I hope to know better. The last few bits are coming together, and St. Joseph has come to live in a place of honor, next to Alberta’s pie bird and Marty’s pot. There by Laura’s latest discovery, parsley growing in a pot.
A fourteen year olds world through a grandmother’s eyes is amusing. This one thinks of grown up things, in an uncomplex manner. She wondered recently if I had been through a tornado and what did I do. I’ve been through two, I explained. But she really was interested in how we would save ourselves now, not then, and I said if we knew it was imminent, we would go into her closet. If we had more time, we probably would tell the new owner of the old house, “We’re coming over; leave the basement door open.”
The raging election has left me as sick to my stomach as wondering if my friend Carol’s home escaped the hurricane. It became very personal to me when sexual molestation came out of the closet. Our daughters and granddaughters deserve the strong new world we have worked for in my lifetime, not a trip back to the dark days.
Bob Dylan’s nomination for a Nobel prize in literature has perfect timing. “Don’t stand in the doorway…” of the future of the children. Guide them, don’t lie to them, tell them how to be safe, set them free. And here’s to Carly Simon, too, who let loose one of her best for the current season. Look up “You’re so vain,” and don’t miss her little tweak to her lyrics.
I watch Laura becoming stronger. I see little signs that make me happy. Her signature is evolving from loopy, self conscious lines of expression to strong, bold, defiant strokes. Her name is spelled ‘Laura’, and the A is a star, effortlessly connected. She has an A in her last name, and it has the same bold treatment. This on a scrap of paper she tore out to give me her friend’s address, where I must pick her up tonight. She and her classmate are working on an extra credit assignment for American Sign Language. Practice, practice, practice.