the talk
Yesterday was tough. It was slightly more subtle than kicking and screaming, but Grandma made it be known to God and Man alike that she was not pleased with her new digs. At the end of the day we had to have the "talk." Now, having the "talk" with Grandma is hard. After weighing in at 94 pounds (then subtract 10 for the two braces), the tears add about a ton.
Then, the years of my dysfunctional family kicked in. After going through my speil about how I've busted my back for the past months, and now "I want something in return," she asked, "How much?" Perfect. "I want some effort."
There's nothing so grand as to be on the right side of a moral equation. It worked; for the moment. While it stabbed being thought of as a moneygrubber, as my dear old mother has it, the bigger picture is that she for now might pay attention and figure out how to get from her room to the dining hall. Plus, my Bro' is picking up my expenses.
It's time to get back over to the 'Garden,' as we'll call it for now, and I'll try to post this evening.
