Mam� Ton� was in the hospital. She's home now.

My dad called my Friday night to tell me. I missed the phone call. He left a message. Whenever I get one of those messages I know it's something bad. All my dad has to say is, "Cindy, I was just calling because I wanted to let you know that..." I know the words after "that" will be something about a serious illness, hospitalization, or even death.

My mom wasn't too worried about her mom, but she tends to hide her feelings just like she did when Pap� Chepe had his heart attacks two years ago. My dad is the same way.

I know my grandparents are not immortal, but a part of me wants to believe that they'll always be there just as they have throughout my life. Unfortunately, one of these days one will pass away, and then the other will go. And then I'll be left without any living grandparents. I can't imagine it, and I really don't want to because typing through tears is not exactly easy.

These kinds of things remind me that Mam� Ton� and Pap� Chepe are 82 and 84, respectively, that they have a long list of health issues, and that they won't be around forever.

Reality bites.

Me siento: uneasy
Escuchando: mos def - ms. fat booty

M�s reciente:
Searches - 09.16.05
the big move - 07.29.05
mother and daughter: a comparative analysis - 07.28.05
jardineros y dom�sticas - 07.27.05
tough question - 07.25.05

antes // despu�s