Still no phone call. I hate coming to work when all I feel like doing is sitting in the floor and crying. I feel like I should be there, with Nana, helping Momma, but I can't see my way clear to do that with all these other obligations. Heather has to be delivered to summer school each day by 7:45, so I can't sleep late and I can't go traipsing off to Henry County Medical Center. Miranda has to have her daily chat, and Stephen has to beg for money to stave off starvation while he's in Atlanta. I have bills to pay with money I don't have. I'm so frustrated and so tired...I guess I'm feeling guilty with a side order of feeling sorry for myself because my sister did take off work yesterday and did go sit with Momma and Nana. She tells me they think Nana had a stroke, but it's hard to tell and they won't put her through a CAT scan to see if there's any blockage. We just have to wait. And so we wait.
Like a bad penny.... We used to scuba dive as our hobby, a hobby which eventually led to the procurement/construction of a small dive trailer to haul four sets of gear and four cylinders. It was a simple but elegant design - a box on a single axle frame, with the beginnings of a mural painted on both sides, and dive flags at either end. The kids had helped paint it, with Stephen taking special pains with the sharks. When we moved to Nashville, we sold it. We didn't dive as often, and we had no place to store it. Nearly ten years have passed since that October in '99 when we came up here, and I hadn't thought much about the trailer. I thought I had seen it the last time we went to Greenfield, but I wasn't sure. Then Saturday my mother-in-law called to say the neighbor across the street had our trailer for sale. The neighbor was asking a certain price, and we offered a little less. She called back later to say it was ours for the picking up. Sunday we made the trip to fet...
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