Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Good shape

Looking through my datebook, I keep finding phone numbers for my grandmother at various hospitals, what should I do with these numbers? I got up too early so I could catch the train, and so I'm sad. Sad about everything really, which is just exhaustion. Or unjust, but exhaustion. Just before the train arrived, I was talking to Wheels about visiting my father before he died, how did that come up? And then the train arrived, I had to rush on, when Wheels said she was helping me with my bag, the attendant said: you must be in bad shape.

No, actually I'm in good shape, because a friend of mine is helping me. I need to call my mother to ask her to make a copy of Rose’s keys for me, I mean keys to Rose's house, but I'm worried that my mother will say something ridiculous like: that's impossible. I don't think I can handle that kind of conversation right now, so I guess I'll leave her a message after she goes to sleep. A week from today, I'll be at my grandmother's house, and I have no idea what that will be like. Will I be able to feel what I want to feel? Will my mother allow me that space?

Then there's the train, and then I'm in Chicago -- who knew that the elevation works both ways, I mean I'm totally dizzy now that I'm back to sea level. I talk to my mother, and actually it's fine: she likes the card I sent her from Santa Fe. She’ll make a key for me. She knows I want to spend a lot of time looking through my grandmother’s house, but are there other things I want to do in Baltimore? She asks that question twice. I have no idea.

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