grandmother

your father told me once just once
that i was a star or something like that.

"yer my star," is what he said.

and you know what?
i almost believed him;
i almost believed the fool!

but when we got married, i guess that star fizzled out.
it always does. you know that, right.
we had you and we cared for each other i guess
but it wasn't anything special anymore.
one always hopes for something truly truly special
but one so rarely gets what one wants.

stars fizzle and die - just like that.
and here i am, telling some story to my only child
who doesn't really care.

oh, i know mere'
maybe you do.
maybe you do care.

damn - what damned fools we all are:

me lying here wasting time when i should be celebrating my long life.

and you - you're face wet, not happy like you should be;
i'm dying, not going into surgery or something horrifying like that.

oh, and those nurses
jumping when i say jump
and returning with juice.

"champagne!" i say to them, "champagne!"

i want to enjoy this
with my hands and throat wet and cold,
with a smile finally on my godamned ugly godamned face!

they just chuckle at me, meredith.
they chuckle and offer my apple juice in a plastic cup!

i'm sorry - i'm running on here and here you are.

how's alma?
and michael?

i told that little bastard to leave you alone
and here you are - right here where you should be,
listening to stories from that old lady again!

give me your hand dear.

i hope i don't bore you meredith.
i'm afraid i've bored so many,
and frustrated too few.

remember that - don't be afraid to frustrate people.
it keeps things interesting.

i love you mere'.
it may not seem like i do sometimes but i do i really do.
you've always been a bright bright star to me.

you are my star.