All My Little Words: Everyone’s Gone to the Moon

My mom and stepdad got back from vacation today. They’d been gone more than a week, on a trip “out west.” Mom called me midway through the journey, when they were at some town that starts with a K in Wyoming (I think it was near Jackson Hole, but I could be mistaken). I wrote down the name of the town, in fact, but now I cannot find it.

It is not usual for my mom to call me whilst she is traveling. Apparently, she called me this past Sunday, too, but I had the ringer on the phone turned off and missed her.

They spent the last part of their vacation at the Mall of America in Minnesota and then drove through Wisconsin before returning to The Ville this afternoon. My mom headed out to visit my grandpa, as is her custom; he lives in a home with 3 or 4 other elderly folks.

Mom went in the house, said hello to her father and then went to the bathroom to wash her hands. When she came back into the living room, he was dead.

My grandparents are all gone now.

I feel oddly alone at the moment. And, of course, I am alone ...

And Nina just sang: “And I am not alone / as long as my love is near me”

... but in reality, I am never truly alone, for there are always my thoughts.

And how fitting that that particular line played, from the song “Who Knows Where the Time Goes,” about which I have gushed before. And in reality, I was playing this CD to listen to Nina Simone’s version of “Everyone’s Gone to the Moon.”

In my life, I knew all four of my grandparents, but I knew my grandfathers least. Grandpa Dido died when I was in second grade, and Grandpa Bob died when I am 40. I know that my maternal grandparents were both extremely funny people (this post gives some idea), so I credit them with contributing to my sense of humor — which, all things considered, could be my saving grace. On the other hand, my dad was fucking hilarious, so I guess I am lucky I got it from both sides.

I am a lucky girl.