in good excuses
for sitting still,
he spreads mulch,
might run Boston
to the dismay of
his worn-out children.
"I wish my father were around so I could worry about him," says Virginia, "and continue to do section hikes with him." (Virginia's father died of a heart attack when she was young.)
"Me, too," I say. "I'm glad I have my mother to worry about."
"I worry about mine, too," says Virginia, "but she doesn't worry about me. Boy, I wish she could." (Virginia's mother no longer recognizes her, or anyone else.)
"Go girl," I say to my mother.
Different strokes for different folks
2 weeks ago