thanksgiving/prayer/durham.
burn it away.
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go home and pick the shards of glass from the bottoms of your feet.
—
empty now watch the glittering orange
extinguish in the night
—
on friday the 13th, my grandfather had knee replacement surgery. the next day, my grandmother was admitted to the hospital after having complained about being dizzy and feeling pain in her arm. once he was released from the surgical center, we managed to get my grandfather admitted to the rehabilitation clinic on the top floor of the same hospital my grandmother was staying in. after three days of the rehab, my grandfather decided he was finished, against the wishes of… well, everyone else. there’s more to the story, but it all spirals down to the present: both of my living grandparents are at home now, but bound to walkers – one for his unsteady, healing knee, and the other for her general lack of steadfastness. eternally obstinate, and determined to be in control, my grandfather spends most of his time shuffling around the house, doing physical therapy exercises, watching amc, golf and the local news, and muttering “shit,” at his artifical joint. his therapist, nancy, has told him to wear sneakers at all times to increase is stability. she says he’s doing well. when he’s not up, he sits in his slightly-too-small, cherry red, leather recliner – freshly stitched leg hoisted straight out in front of him, propped on the shower stool that he has yet to use in the shower. he tells my grandmother what is happening in the classic western they are watching because she is hard of hearing, and he yells replies back to newscasters whenever he is especially stirred by a story. he’s high as a kite on vicodin, which is his only source of pain relief besides the knee icing contraption he got at the hospital. my grandmother’s senses are being dulled as well. she speaks slowly and must have things repeated to her several times before: a) she hears them and b) they actually sink in. her hand is usually numb. she has a blocked artery in her neck. her heart isn’t ticking the way it used to. unlike my grandfather, she has real problems, not just a new knee. she’s “his mess”. my cousin elizabeth and i have been living with them since tuesday. we cleaned out the refrigerator, throwing away all of the fossilized and festering substances and organizing the salad dressings. tomorrow i am returning to greensboro. i am awash with thought.
(all salvaged from facebook notes from 2007/2008.)
