She grows frailer each time we see her. The more she’s looked after, the less strength she has, it seems. I made her a cup of tea; used her favourite cosy and her best cups and saucers. We gave her S to hold and coo over. She smiled. We took her to have her tea. Only then did I realise where I’d seen her ill-fitting cardigan before. It was grandad’s.
© Carlton Reeve 2008
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Aaw bless her. You know, reading this brought a lump to my throat.
Posted by: Kate | Wednesday, 06 September 2006 at 08:57 PM