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“I have to get up
and move around. If I sit, I’ll
get up and go Psshhoo.”

Grandma gets up,
in her small frame
and catches herself
on the frame of the door,
walks toward the counter,
chairs, one
at a time along her way,
to see the screendoor,
the damage done, and
I feel she fell
some time earlier,
is recovering,
and she does not want
to give in or give up,
even if it means she’s
really giving herself
a chance, though
she knows if she does,
she seems weak,
even if she is
the truly
strongest woman
I’ve ever met
and she doesn’t
even know she is
I cannot tell her
for she’ll just
swear and sit and say,
“No, no, no– Honestly,

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musings & scribbles