April 24, 2002
Something inside me is heavy today. Not crushing, not anguished, just heavy and tinged with sadness. My grandmother's death five years ago always stings a little, even now. She and my grandfather had eight children and when the youngest was not quite five, he was killed in an explosion aboard a navy ship. She met and married a man a few years later. For a while she was happy again but he was an alcoholic and eventually his demons got the better of him and they divorced. She was a single mother before it was fashionable. She was my friend.