Every time I see a poppy I'm reminded of my grandfather. He passed away when I was three. I barely remember him, but what little I do, I do vividly.
I remember sitting on his knee in their kitchen, almost like it was a few years ago, instead of decades.
And every time I think of him I'm reminded of my grandmother's strength. Of how she made the best out of life even after she lost her husband and best friend.
For over three decades she kept going. Enjoying the little things in life. Spending time with her family.
And I hope her strength remains with me tomorrow. I'm getting another, much more invasive test done on my back. So they can maybe figure out what's wrong. Maybe they finally will. Three years and six months later. Exactly.
And all the while I'm worried about the boy. Although we had a great time together tonight, there's still something strange going on. And I don't know what, or what to do about it.
2 comments:
Good Luck with the tests RG, Often they can't find much, and they're 'inconclusive' and your left with just the mystery & the pain. We can hope for better though.
The poppies remind me of Armistice Day, and the lapel pin poppy for the commemoration I get like clockwork from the Royal Canadian Legion. Or the over production of poppies going on in Afghanistan, so much so that we might be able to finally supply the entire world with cheap pain relief. But that seems to be too much of a threat to too many powerful people who fear such things. Much of the world just suffers without much prospect of relief. Even those discovered way back in the dawn of the 18th & 19th centuries.
Cheers & Good Luck, 'VJ'
I hope everything works out ok with the tests. Take care and RELAX.
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