Tangerines and Vitamin C

It’s raining again. A quiet rain almost too light to make pattering sounds on my umbrella. Looking up the clouds gate the sky in gray. Why is the world so quiet without a sky? I was late this morning and didn’t care. I was still the first one here. Waking up an hour early from dreams I can’t remember, I worked on a poem and then wrote my Grandpa a belated letter. What would you think of me, he said, if you knew my deep shadows and demons? I’d think you were human, I wrote back and questioned – what would you think of me if you knew my deep shadows and demons? But I think he would love me without end.
I’m not sure if he’s still going, but he planned a trip to the Middle East this fall. This is a man who was riding his bike from Paris to Istanbul when a tractor nearly ran him over and killed him – it certainly broke his lower body barely missing vital organs. And while he recovered in a foreign hospital, slipping in and out of opiate induced fits – my aunt was at his bedside telling him she’d bring him home. No matter what. And she did.
Now, he’s at it again. My family thinks he’s crazy for going. I think he’s wonderful. 83 (is that who old he is now? I can’t keep track he seems so young in letters) and all he ever looks for is connections to new people.
I feel a cold coming on, but I won’t say it out loud. The blog doesn’t count because these are thoughts and my thoughts can WILL *magic fingers* the bugs away.I’m also trying to WILL *magic fingers* my doubts away as they’ve come creeping back to fill vacant holes in my mind. You’ll never be what you expect of yourself
I wish I could sleep. Light rain is the white noise before we drift into dreams.

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