I was asleep, she'd say. I was asleep all my life.
I didn't quite understand. To me, she was always awake. Just someplace else. Especially in those kitchen-visit days. She was running wild like a 65, 70 year-old teenager, dancing with girls and having high-drama love.
I didn't quite understand that she was trying to wake up and rebuild a life she had slept through.
The thing about sleeping is you don't know you are until you aren't.
Letters At The Speed Of...
Yizkor (Remember) For Florence
The Old Bag