Two years before she died...
|This writing has not yet been rated and therefore this information is not yet available.|
Two years before she died, granny abandoned her old T-handled walking cane. It had been wobbly at the bottom, she said. Up until she lay giving up her last breath, she'd crossed the hall with her brand new wheeled quad cane. When I shattered my knee, I found the abandoned piece behind the wardrobe, where I occasionally hanged my work jacket. The handle was surprisingly shiny, the bottom firm. I remembered how pampered my granny was, How dismissive of the suffering of others, How dismissive I was of her mean spirit. Perhaps now I am able to reclaim some of her victims, Where I may occasionally hang my work jacket in a small box of memories.