Hi. I'm back. I was in Florida, where I swam, rode on kiddie rides, and saw the B-52s perform; then I came home, had an out-of-town house-guest for an overnight (T, in town to spend time with her brother she's only met once several months ago, who her mom had given up for adoption before she was born and didn't tell T until the brother contacted her mom; he lives about four blocks away from me) and then I went to a wedding three hours away, which was very nice and fun. Dave and Kelsey: TLF. They exited the church to a guitar-only version of "Panama" courtesy of Mr. D. Crommet.

Then there was some craziness. My grandfather is not doing well. He has been slowly, very slowly, sliding downhill because of Alzheimer's. It's been very sad and frustrating to watch. He recently seems to have had a small stroke, or one in a series of small strokes, that somehow made him decide to stop eating, and especially, drinking. So instead of going home after the wedding, I went up to Laconia to see my grandfather and try to give some comfort to my grandmother. My parents and sister had arrived before me.

Apparently it's a fairly common old-person thing, the not wanting to drink fluids; put water in their mouths and their body just doesn't want to try to swallow, too afraid to choke on it. So nursing home aides put thickener in their drinks and spoon it to them like babies. The thickener is just starch - it doesn't add flavor. Thickened juice sounds okay, but gelatinized black coffee (which my grandfather took a spoonful of) is pretty gross to me. Anyway, he's all thin and his voice is whispery and reedy-dry, and a good 90-percent of the time he was incomprehensible. He did seem to realize we were all there, his family around him, and that seemed to make him happy. He'd smile and look like himself again. But then he would move his arms and legs, restless and agitated, like he wanted to get out of the loungechair and walk somewhere, though he's far too weak for that. He'd occasionally jerk his whole body in a startle response like babies sometimes do. At one clearer point he said, "I want a new brain."

I tried to do some of the Buddhist meditations you do when someone's dying - basically you picture them having a good death, surrounded by acceptance and peace, with the person completely healthy and happy. But the room was too noisy and busy, and he couldn't be still. So I said goodbye when everyone else did, and I hid my crying, because that's what my repressed WASPy family does.

My sister and bro-in-law had rented a car to get up there so I made them drive me home Sunday night. We ate at Spoleto's and on Monday morning I called my boss - "I know this is really last minute, but do you mind if I take the day off?" - and we three went to Casablanca, where we ate crepes in the window and watched the short and cute Pulaski Day Parade march down Main Street. Then they were all into the shopping. And then they left and now I'm doing laundry and the Red Sox game is in the background just because I don't have anything better to watch or do and I'm feeling lazy. I figure I deserve it.