Frances. Self Portrait"But in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears."
We went to Las Vegas to visit Rosie and grandma Young. "Cancer runs in my family dear," my grandma Young tells. Aside from that, she is content with her dog Hershey and canasta.
In Kingman, Az, we visited my grandma Chapman, who refuses to accept earth and time. She still drives. She quivered, "I'm looking more like my mother all the time." This means she remembers my great-grandma Bratton as an old withered lady with dementia, rather than a beautiful lady who loved literature and painted-she used to give me frozen grapes while I looked at her bells and paintings. My grandma Chapman has her bells now, but their tolling has become dull.
A hard trip in some ways, but Rosies company did us well.
