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slow yet (just) enough


john’s been on my mind all day, and now that it’s evening, it feels as if i can let him go.

grandma spoke of him often, and she often took me on her trips to visit him, which included cleaning him, his home, and preparing his meals. only this morning did it dawn on me that she must of visited him much more often than only the times i too was in attendance.

she said he was her brother, but i distinctly remember taking his skin apart, not believing her, but also not saying anything. he lived about an hour away on foot, but only a few minutes by car. since i walk slow, i’d guess he lived around five miles away from her. as far as i know, she took care of him that way for at least three years until he passed away. i don’t know how she handled the grief, but when i saw her again she was different.

i’d gone to visit her after being away for a few years and was excited that it would be the first time i could take her somewhere nice by myself, but it was short-lived. she was using a walker, she moved slower, spoke slower, and seemed unsure of many things. the light in her eyes had left.

i remember feeling sad, then angry that no one was taking care of her the way i felt she deserved. then i felt sad again, that i wasn’t in the place to do it myself. all of this is a roundabout way to express that the possibility of john and my grandmother being romantically connected is what occurred to me this evening.

it means nothing really – these thoughts, memories and words; nothing more than what i allow to be constructed.

regardless the kind of relationship or love they had for each other, i’m sure they found a way for it to be enough, because we are never left with less than.

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