At my grandmother's house for probably the last time, my mom and I were starting to get my grandparents' condo ready to sell. I was moving around furniture, cleaning surfaces, trying to make the place look nothing like how it has looked my whole life. On an end table sat what looked like a vase. It was only when I went to shift it that I realized that it was actually my grandfather.
Later, feet sinking in the mud of the bay, I said goodbye to the mangroves and tried to avoid stepping on the spiny shells of dead horseshoe crabs.
No comments:
Post a Comment