Doorstep Diaries, Day 39

Sally arrived with cookies on Sunday. They weren't the only thing that looked delicious though. No wonder they call it a wonderbra. What a woman.

The kid is sick again. He had a good run. A short run, but fine enough. He'll go out strong without the chemo -- well, at least he'll go out with a little hair, and not as a virgin. Not bad at all. There's no way he'll finish those cookies though. Nurse already has him back on Jello. You can always tell how close someone is by their diet. The softer the deadlier.

Grandpa was there. He kept looking around. Looking like he was looking for something he just couldn't find. Sniffing, too. I think he's lost it. I imagine I'll be right back here next week for him.
Great.

Sally told him to stop it. "Not yet," she said. "Later."

Not much of a living funeral. Usually there were balloons. Usually they all reminisced. Usually there was cake and punch. Why wasn't there cake and punch? I expected Grandpa to be lit, maybe slip the kid a little nip as well. Well, maybe that was true. At least Sally dressed up. Still. Acceptance I guess. True, real acceptance. He was ready to kick the bucket.

Nurse put the cookies where she put them last time. No one would miss them, thank god. Minestrone today. That means beef stew tomorrow. Kid didn't even have a single one. Sally didn't seem to mind this time. It was never so bad once you accepted it. I bet he kicks it tonight.

About time.