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Grandma

I got an email from Mama. Actually, a couple.

Grandma's condition has declined. It's more stable now than it was, but she and Dad are flying out to California tomorrow. I called and checked in.

It's only a 6-hour drive, if taken at highway speeds. *looks suspiciously at Myrrh*

Mama will keep me posted.


Grandma is old. She is well over 80. Her mental state has deteriorated; as filtered through Dad, she's lost that bit of herself that kept her from hitting people with her cane. Some years back when I visited, she had been hoping to die in peace in her sleep, with some semblance of dignity. From the conversation (mostly one-sided) I seem to recall that she was liking the idea of falling asleep in her chair in the sun. She'd wanted to avoid being uprooted and hospitalized and all that.

Well, she's been uprooted now. They're talking about getting her to the hospice, or they had been while she was doing worse. Assorted family members have been clustering.

Mama will keep me posted.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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