How precious and lovely it all seemed.

Your grandmother stood, with that decisiveness I know you know.

“Let us think of what we must do,” she said.

Then I woke. There in bed, I felt, for a brief instant, that it was that time again and not this time. Lying there, I found myself wondering, for the first time in a long while, not “What should I have done?” but “What might I yet do?”

I came back to myself, gradually. It was sad. A sad moment. To be, once again, in a time and place where action was not possible.

I wish with all my heart that we could have passed it all on to you intact. I do. That is, now, not to be. That regret I will take to my grave. Wisdom, now, amounts to making such intelligent accommodations as we can. I am not saying stick your head in the sand. J. made a choice. She could have told all, regarding G. and M. She did not. I respect that. And yet. No one is calling on you to do anything. You are, in my view, doing much good simply by rising in the morning, being as present as possible, keeping sanity alive in the world, so that, someday, when (if) this thing passes, the country may find its way back to normalcy, with your help and the help of those like you.

But please know that I understand how hard it must be to stay silent and inactive if, in fact, J. was more than just a friend. She is a lovely person and I recall her crossing our yard with her particular grace and brio, swinging your car keys on that long chain, her dog (Whiskey?) trotting along beside her. It is true, as you say: we have no idea what is going on with her, in this new world of ours. And that must, yes, of course, weigh heavily on one’s mind, especially if that relationship was intimate, and might well (how could it not?) create a feeling that one should act.

I feel I have made my preference clear, above. I say what follows not to encourage. We have money (not much, but some) set aside. Should push come to shove. I am finding it hard to advise you. I do not wish to disappoint. Nor lead you astray. With age, one becomes cautious. It is a curse. We love you so much. Please let us know what you are inclined to do, as we find that this (you) is all that we now can think of.

With love, much love, more than you can know,
GPa.

A Thing at Work

A THING AT WORK

Genevieve Turner stepped back into the break room.

Yep, there were her keys, on top of the microwave.

Also in there now (ugh): Brenda.

Gen braced for the onslaught.

Here it came.