i don't think all the time that i've spent with my grandfather could sum to a month--approximately one three-thousandths of my life. my first thought on hearing that he's in poor health & not expected to recover: i wish it were grandmother.

were it to be her, were he to live without her, until the end of his life? i'm not sure if it would be a punishment or a reprieve. they are relics of an era long irrelevant. their lives hallmarked (in my mind) with unpredictable bursts of love, disgust, irreverence, & violence.

i want to blame them & well with self-pity for being the offspring of their offspring, but i oscillate 'tween ambivalence & brimstone.

i wonder how my brother will react?

i should know by now that time is an irrelevant indicator of how potent a character is in my mind! but, i now agree, one does not change.