Loss makes the ordinary tragic.
When her son died, my Grandma told me how (not in these words) it broke her heart all over again whenever she thought of something she wanted to tell him. They would talk on the phone every night. She spent a lot of her evenings on her cord telephone with her kids, now that I think about it.
I was supposed to be that for my mom, as well as her daughter. It was impossible so I quit both. Now, we have more of a real parent child thing going. I think in part because I’ve started telling her more. Because I have no one else to talk to. Because I mean, especially after this past Christmas, it’s kind of obvious my best friend and I are now that “acquaintance from back in the day” situation. Which is all right, I’m sure we won’t ever live near one another again anyway. But without her, I have 1 person left.
And I mean you can say it’s my fault, but if you’ve gathered even a scrap of what I’ve been laying down….you’ll see I made the one sane choice
But still, pretty lonely