" called my son from his room. I heard his bed squeak and the sound of a zipper being raised. He opened the door a moment later, his hair disheveled, ...nd I could smell the hand lotion he'd been using. He hadn't thought to put on a shirt. His jean-shorts showed that his penis was still hard.I smiled at him, nervous but resolved. I didn't think about what I was doing or what to say. It was too strange and crazy to do anything but go forward and make it up as I went. "Can we sit?" I said, sweeping. She was gone. No amount of yelling or avoidance was going to change that. But one morning it dawned on me that my grandpa was now all alone within his house deep in the woods. My cousins, aunts, uncles, and even my own mother had forgotten him -- caught up in their own selfish sorrow and loathing that they had abandoned all appreciation for the life he still lived. And with this realization I decided it best to visit him.To say the least, he was quite overjoyed by my thinking of him. Together. More

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