it’s kind of odd to put a cemetery on the edge of a public park, she thought. would the word be “ironic?” i dunno… i’m always afraid to use that word after that isn’t it ironic? song got so much flack. but i like that song. isn’t it ironic, don’t ya think? a little toooOOoOOo ironic. yeah i really do think, she sang in her head as they walked along, bopping a little. feeling a tug on her hand, remembering it being gripped tightly by her teenage brother – oh shit, that was inappropriate. i know he’s sad – he really is torn up about this.
i can’t believe she’s taking this so lightly. is she smiling right now? what the hell! our freaking mom just died. i mean, she’s been sick for over a year but… god, she’s a bitch. fuck … oh shit, can mom read our thoughts now? can ghosts do that? is mom a ghost? oh my god, what if she’s in my head right now? shit, shit, shit. sorry mom! if she were here, in my head i guess, she’d be saying “now don’t talk about your sister like that!” what’re we going to do without her? shit! i mean… sorry mom. (but really, can you here me? if you can hear me, give me a sign. hmm, that old lady up there – have her drop that red thing she’s holding)
on a bench a few yards away, she sat, wearing the skin of an older woman and lazily tapping together two knitting needles between her knobbed fingers. well at least the kids seem to be getting through this together. we all knew it was coming. sure, i didn’t know this was coming. popping in and out of strangers… i feel like this is going to have it’s benefits. but this will bring them closer, i hope. when was the last time they held hands? must’ve been years ago. i hate that matthew is having such a hard time with this. he’s such a sweet, sweet boy. is julia smiling? i’m a little offended. i wish i knew what she was thinking… oh, sit up straight, they’re getting close. with great effort, she adjusted the body she’d set up shop in. tilting the torso back and lifting the chin took much concentration and she lost control of the hands, specifically the fingers, and the mess of needles and red yarn dropped into her lap, rolling onto the leaf-strewn sidewalk with a clatter. shit, maybe one day i’ll get the hang of this.
love always, sarah.