For as long as I can remember, my grandmother was afflicted with Parkinson’s disease. As her mind got worse, it was eventually necessary for her to live in a foster care home. This was back when I was in middle school. My grandfather at this time lived in a retirement home, because though he suffered from bone cancer and was wheelchair bound, he was largely self sufficient. My grandfather’s retirement home was directly across the street from the middle school I attended. Often, after school I would go and visit my grandfather. On occasion we would take the city bus across town to go and visit my grandmother. It was during these trips that I first understood what it meant to truly love someone.
her mind riddled
even love is obscured
but eyes remember
more breaths of legacy at one deep breath
the prose section of this haibun is inspired by a story i am working on for a site a good friend of mine is a part of. the site is called common ties and publishes (and pays for) personal stories in the mold of something you might hear on this american life or the storycorps project. i encourage you all to check out the site.
