Untitled--3.

3.
I wanted to talk about this, but not in a way that someone else could own. It’s important to talk about, because you were wife and mother and people rarely sing those praises and I wanted to remember that. But I wished that I could be silent about it because I wanted this to be our private ritual. Our secret. There were never any men of our blood. They were all by marriage. Did you realize? All our lineage was woman. This is a thing to keep sacred.

You mark the time with rituals. Your kidneys are a ticking function. Time is no longer necessary when we have these. But time is for the men anyway. Who knows when the time will come? Spring forward, they’ll say. Will you get to see even that?

You watch Jimmy Stewart movies all the time and fear-based news programs. I wonder whether somewhere in your mind Jimmy Stewart is making you feel better about humanity. I wonder if you even really know what goes on in those movies, or if you actually watch because some part of your mind has them memorized and they trigger a memory but now it is like a newly-wrapped gift because of how thoughts slip away from you. I wonder if you even have that much English left. I and my mom try to practice with you, but it’s hard to know. We review names. You are Doina. You are grandmother. I am me, I am your granddaughter, though you keep saying I’m your daughter. Your daughter who lives far away is Christine. We review these items on the table every time we see you.

One day I will be here doing this with someone else. Who knows who. Christine says she would never want to go in this drawn-out way. I don’t blame her. The ways of parting are personal for everyone, too. But soon it’ll be time for you to go.