nixtress's Diaryland Diary

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Storms

Grams did not have a good day today. We were once again back to trying to find the children. Arguing with her is pointless, trying to reason with her, explain to her that they're all grown and okay doesn't work. I spent the better part of three hours walking back and forth through the nursing home trying to find the children with her. I spent the other hour over at Gramp's straightening up and making him lunch. I finally was able to leave Grams because my second oldest aunt, Sue, decided today would be a good day to visit--I'm sure she was surprised that it really wasn't. I, however, was grateful.

The one interesting thing about my visit there today was getting to go through what the staff calls "The Tunnel"! The nursing home originally started in this darling old manor in one of the historic sections of our town. When they expanded it, they also built an assisted living building as well (basically apartments for elderly with alarms, etc) and attached the two with an underground hallway so that patients could be transported back and forth, as well as supplies and other things. I had taken Grams up to see Gramps today and it began pouring like mad while we were there. Rather than trying to maneuver her through the storm, we went through the tunnel. It was nifty.

Trevor and Ryan went, again, with Josh to Vacation Bible School. They're really enjoying themselves there. I'm rather surprised but glad.

***

This storm is lovely. Lightning but only a little thunder to rumble through the house. It's cool and perfect for cuddling. Wonderful night to have whispered somethings. And I really want to be held. I'd like to lay my head into a shoulder strong enough to bear the weight of my sorrows and my joys and lean into a heart that beats in tandem to my own. I'd like to snuggle into an understanding and be wound around a mind that keeps pace.

It's the perfect night to close eyes and revel in the closeness, the intimacy that lovers have, the synchronicity. Everything.

Beautiful storm-washed night.

Sweet dreams.

N.

10:30 p.m. - 2004-08-04

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