What I told my son about his Grandmother's death.
On Saturday I told him to think good thoughts about Grandma. Yesterday I sat with him and said that she got very sick, and that she had to go someplace, that he will not see her again - but that she loved him very much. And to give his mother, his Uncles, Aunts and everyone nice hugs the next time he sees them. I do not know what else to tell him. Have no idea what registers with him. Not much of a reaction. It was hard.
Still have not heard from L. about anything, understandable since I'm persona non grata. I know she's grieving, and it has to be hard on her, but she would not even tell me what hospital she was at.
Went to Rumba Cafe to see a friend read. Ara Harris uses a precise brush. Mary Stuart Masterson with a pen, and her friends, the F-Bombs. She is her own brat pack. You won't forget about her after seeing her read.
Ok, enough eighties.
I think I've been officially relegated by a friend again. When someone cannot bring themselves to call you by name, well there you go. It's good to know a person is happy in their new life, but when they don't return your email or address you as a collective term, well you know you're not cool anymore. Just ballast on the balloon that is now ascending.