the afternoon
Dec. 8th, 2001 02:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aslantthe brothers play snooker while i fix the broken cue, using the splint and the special ten-minute glue from 1970. there are probably several dead horses in there my uncle says as i crank the vise tight. that's my favorite cue he says to me. the snooker table is from 1900 and has the narrowest corner pockets i've ever seen.
apparently there is a history of deportation in my family, and between the canadian and american embassies two separate marriages have been fouled up. my grandmother's father was drafted into the war (they were even taking fathers then) and there was some noise about her being deported from chicago if he were taken; but neither country had any record of her existence. she tells this story saying she was a woman without a country.
the alzheimer's is bad today. my grandfather begins with stories about school and ends up talking about transplants? and then scheduled a hockey game during the anniversary dinner tonight. a month ago he transferred six thousand dollars somewhere and forgot about it; later they only found the ripped receipt, hoarded away in a drawer.
he will be sitting at the table and will suddenly begin to cry.
yesterday in the early morning he looked out from the deck over the apple trees. i've done as much in my life as i could want, he says over one shoulder to my father. i think if i couldn't ice skate anymore? i think i'd just get ahold of a gun and shoot myself. it's the one thing i love to do.
apparently there is a history of deportation in my family, and between the canadian and american embassies two separate marriages have been fouled up. my grandmother's father was drafted into the war (they were even taking fathers then) and there was some noise about her being deported from chicago if he were taken; but neither country had any record of her existence. she tells this story saying she was a woman without a country.
the alzheimer's is bad today. my grandfather begins with stories about school and ends up talking about transplants? and then scheduled a hockey game during the anniversary dinner tonight. a month ago he transferred six thousand dollars somewhere and forgot about it; later they only found the ripped receipt, hoarded away in a drawer.
he will be sitting at the table and will suddenly begin to cry.
yesterday in the early morning he looked out from the deck over the apple trees. i've done as much in my life as i could want, he says over one shoulder to my father. i think if i couldn't ice skate anymore? i think i'd just get ahold of a gun and shoot myself. it's the one thing i love to do.
