This entry was posted by on Sunday, 22 May, 2005 at

Aujourd’hui, Maman est morte. Ou peut-être hier, je ne sais pas.
-Albert Camus

why try at all when everything’s out of reach
at times i feel just like a stranger on the beach
they’re looking for shelter from the pain
i’m so sheltered, i can’t see the rain
– Less is More, “Wasting”

The call came around 1:00 am. From my father, he was there.

The rest of us had fallen into routine. Get up. Shower. Eat breakfast. Go to the hospital. Wait. I found it surprisingly easy not to think about exactly what we were waiting for. But occasionally I would remember. When this is all over, my grandmother, my sister, my father, myself, we all go home to empty houses – some of us for the first time.

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