Thursday, October 11, 2007

the little bit

Living between generations was like living by the moon---only. My great grandmother, Eather Staten was 92 years old when she died in---2003. She had stubbornly waited for me to fly home from California. She lived alone up to the day and kept an immaculate, cozy home. It is a home I was accustomed to as a baby, as a teen, as a mother, as a woman. However, my daughter ruled all when she was born and naturally stole my great grandmother’s heart from the time of conception until her very early death. Here they sit together at my great grand’s home lost in gifts and in an earlier time at my grandmother’s sugar.

Eather Staten, 2nd generation, 1911-2003
My Love, 6th generation, 1982-1996

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