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Madison Rye Progress
2024-12-28 11:27:29 -08:00
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@ -61,7 +61,7 @@ h3 {
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> Stability was her garden. Stability was the years she grew so much zucchini. Stability was loaf after loaf of zucchini bread, meal after meal of zucchini noodles, the grates of the grill getting weary of grilled zucchini.
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> Stability was the bright border of snapdragons and nasturtiums that bordered the walk. Stability was the few years she got obsessed with marigolds. Stability was the three dandelions she always permitted in the yard --- moderation! Imagine. Stability was her green thumb to my brown, it was Motes visiting and calling us 'her weird gay aunts', little skunklet digging her paws into good clean earth beside her while I watched from the stoop with a gin and tonic with too much lime.
> Stability was the bright border of snapdragons and nasturtiums that bordered the walk. Stability was the few years she got obsessed with marigolds. Stability was the three dandelions she always permitted in the yard --- moderation! Imagine. Stability was her green thumb to my brown, it was Motes visiting and calling us 'her weird gay aunts', our little Sprout digging her paws into good clean earth beside her while I watched from the stoop with a gin and tonic with too much lime.
>
> This is not stability. For me, this will never be stability. She is twice lost, and from this she will never come back. Do not delude yourself, 23 billion of us are lost and will never come back. 23 billion souls forgotten by the dreamer who dreams us all.
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> In some few minutes, you will have more than 200 years of memories to keep and to hold, or to view, cherish, and let go. I do not care; I will not be there to care. Perhaps you will remember our happy years, and you will stop incorporating those memories when you get to eight days ago. All you would remember is my grief. All you would remember is my despair. If you choose to forget those, you will know that this is how AwDae chooses to forget those who have been lost: crying over these plants stripped of their flowers even as fireworks blossom above.
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> Live on, my dear. You have your Pointillist. Live on.
> Live on, my dear. You have your Pointillist, you have your Dot. Live on.
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> All my love,
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