I determine to myself that today, I'm going to go next door and visit with our 90-year-old neighbor, who I adore. I've been wanting to go see her for what has become months, and yet. I even baked a zucchini bread especially for her, and it went moldy on the counter. I think, I'll go over at ten and we can have a good visit before I have to leave for work at noon. And then I think, eleven. And now I'm writing this at eleven thirty, and I'm afraid one day I'll finally make it over there and she'll have died.
> jumping into life.
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oh i understand completely. i'm that way about calling my grandmother oftentimes. i'll be thinking about her--and i love to talk with her, and i know it means a lot to her when she hears from me--but still for some reason i don't just call right then and there. and then it seems i very very rarely call later either.
but why?
Posted by
j |
8/10/07 17:23
All of your posts are like tiny poems, or little spinning models of the universe that gasp and flash in little scintillations of joy, regret, and the pleasure of life even when it is not a smiling pleasure.
Posted by
Douglas B |
10/10/07 20:56
Why thanks, Douglas! That's a great and happy-making comment. And I did go visit her, after all.
Posted by
Kat |
11/10/07 18:19