Marilee J. Layman
September 8th, 2007
Ignore the earlier entry (if it's still there by the time you get here), I'm trying to figure out why Ellen Datlow's URL isn't working in her post.
I still hurt a lot, but got up early because it was hazmat Saturday at the transfer station and I found an old giant battery to run my nebulizer off in case the car and the inside power died. The battery itself is dead, so out to hazmat. Dropped off mixed paper recycling, too, and went to my regular Pizza Hut lunch.
Soon after I arrived, a family came in -- two boys, two girls, mom, dad. And then they all sat silently and straight up. Nobody spoke unless dad spoke to them first, including the mom. He decided what they'd drink and eat. The mom had her arms around herself and was rocking. One of the boys had an in-your-face Christian t-shirt on (Take the Cross or Take the Loss, something like that) and the father was very careful to make him a bib of napkins so as not to get it dirty. The other boy had brought a book in and was reading it under the table and quailed when the father found out and told him to put it away. When dad went to the head, everybody talked, quietly, still sitting straight up, but talked. The instant the boy facing that way saw him and said so, they were all quiet. I tell you, it was all too familiar. No violence marks, but we never did, either.
Tags: family, health