It's good to be back writing this column for this blog. I missed opening up the old browser window and hammering away (well, pecking, really, but I'm the fastest two-finger typer you'll ever see) at the keys, most times without much of a plan of attack.
Waiting for Wednesday has evolved from basically a cut and paste head's up on what books are coming out week to week to a journal of sorts, where I talk about...well, anything I want, really.
Each week, this column is the easiest post to put together, mostly because it becomes whatever I want it to become, and it runs as long or as short as I want it to.
Today, my intention was to write about my Grandma, who passed away last week, but I guess I'm not quite ready for that.
But that's the reason I was away last week and the week before. Lots of visits to the hospital, lots of time sitting and (trying to) sleep in hospital chairs. Lots of hospital food and lots of trips to hospital vending machines.
Lots of things I don't much want to think about anymore.
Lots of machines and beeping noises and nurses and doctors and breathing tubes and overhead announcements. Lots of stale, white hallways that smell of cleaning fluids and other things. Lots of cold, fluorescent lighting and looking out windows, wishing things could be different than they were.
I know they always say that, when someone dies, that person would want those still around to move on and live their lives. And I know that's what my Grandma would want. But I don't want to do that, not just yet.
I don't want to move on or get over it or stop thinking about her.
The lyrics to the Warren Zevon song, "Keep Me in Your Heart" are knocking around my head almost constantly, and I plan to do just that. And, at some point, I'll write about my Grandma here, because I think you guys would have really liked her.
She told the best stories. And she made the strongest cup of coffee I've ever had.
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