grandpa (aug07)

As she conversed with her siblings, I searched for meaning from the words that came out of my mother’s mouth, ‘…dads condition is getting worse’

I sat in the chair as grandpa observed my tussled hair, ‘you have to learn to brush your hair like this silly girl’. He took the comb and as we stood in front of the bathroom mirror, he parted my hair and brushed out all the knots. I smiled and got ready to head off to school. Hand in hand we waited for the bus together and I let go as I stepped onto the bus.
I was 7.

I listened to these grave words behind the enclosed door. The defined grains from the wood started to blur and as I slowly lifted my hands towards my face, all I could feel were the wet smudges of water that grew under my eyes.