a) Three years ago, when MasterP's pregnancy was just beginning, Death came (uninvited, but I understand this is usually how it works) for a stay of undetermined length at Lolo and Lola's. (It was indicated that he would be with us anywhere from 3 weeks to 3 months).
He has sat beside us on the couch for three years. I find it helps to think of him like the stinky footed phantom of Bill and Ted fame.
Thankfully, he's not been a difficult houseguest (despite the feet), and we've grown increasingly accustomed to him, so much so that it's been hard to recognize that over the past six months or so, he's been getting tired of watching pro-wrestling and soap operas.
But he has.
And the questions now are more of how long and what to do (well, not much I guess. It would appear Death refuses to be distracted with the story line of All My Children any longer.)
b) During MlleL's new favorite activity of looking at her own baby photos, we come across a photo of her baptism party, in which a six month version of herself is being held by a smiling, ebony haired man, and she asks who it is. I reply, surprised, that it's Lolo. Her Grandfather.
"That's not Lolo," she laughs "That doesn't look like Lolo."
Looking at the picture, she is right. He is virtually unrecognizable.
1 comment:
This makes me sad. I'm thinking about you and how hard this must be.
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