Thursday, May 16, 2013
It’s funny how the questions just keep coming and all I do is smile. “Where did you leave the keys?” “What time is the neurologist appointment?” “What’s for dinner?” “What are we getting Jenny for her birthday?” Smile, smile, smile. It’s the easiest answer. You can take whatever meaning you’d like – yes, or, no.
One time, you asked me what I thought about grapefruits. This was a long time ago. I had a contrived, long-winded, intellectual answer. I indeed gave you what I “thought”. Now, now that I’ve packed away the file-folders and recipe cards, the address book and the alarm clock, now? I would say, “wait here!” I would walk to the fruit stand. I would find the most beautiful, ripe, succulent grapefruit. I would buy it, and only it. I would arrive home and you wouldn’t have moved, you’d have waited, patiently. I’d peel the whole thing, while you watched. I’d break every section apart, making a sun on the table. I’d feed you each piece, you, licking the juice from my fingers.