Some thoughts after turning on my air conditioning at 10PM on Sunday, just got home from Oklahoma City, sweaty and hot and tired and really really really sick of shows like American Idol.

The whole flight home I weighed the decision, do I write about my grandmother or do I not? After spending the weekend sitting by her bed, talking absolute codshit, trying to decipher most of her mumbles and slurs, watching her well up at the idea of what she might have in front of her, if she makes it at all, I think it just probably isn’t right to go into any detail. She is a woman who has lived life with a strong sense of dignity—one of the things she will often be heard to say, or perhaps it’s just implied in how she operates, is “a woman would never…” fill in the blank. It just seems wrong right now to try and capture anything from this weekend; I cannot imagine she would want it. She doesn’t want to be going through what she is right now, and wouldn’t want that captured. So we’ll stick with this tiny paragraph.

That was my weekend. Didn’t read a paper, watch the news, see a film, write a stitch, mess around in any way. Just some family time (the kind that has people comment how great it is to see each other, how unfortunate the circumstances are). You’d rather not had the weekend, aside from the chance to see people who you consider pretty damn good, but all in all, you would rather not have been there. Given the circumstances and all.