21 years, gone
my grandmother left us here
her spirit remains


21 years ago my grandmother died.  She was a lovely woman - thoughtful, kind, generous, loving.   I knew she loved me - something that I can't say I felt about my parents - be that their fault or mine.  I've only been to her grave a couple of times - the first time I went it was raining and her flat stone was under water and I had a bit of a panic attack, imagining her drowning.  The second time was a lovely summer day and I looked around at the beauty of nature and was glad she hadn't seen some of what I've seen in the last few years.

I had to crop the original photo for IG - and cut out my younger cousin.  In my mind, and when my mother and my aunts ask, it will be to have only the great-grandchildren in the photo and due to IG's spacing.  But in my mind, it's also because I'm worried my younger cousin is a creep - after some stories I've heard with a close friend who encountered him online - there may be two distinct sides to my cousin that we're not all at liberty to see.  It gives me pause, wondering if I should say something or not, but not saying anything because I know no one will believe me, or her.  He's well off, which is something my family lets cover a multitude of sins.

I should go for a walk.  Instead, I'm staring out the window and thinking of going.  I'm stressing about going.  I don't know why I'm having such trouble today, motivating myself.