My grandpa has Alzheimer’s so he has no idea who my grandma is but everyday for the last three or four months he brings her in flowers from their garden and asks her to run away with him and be his wife and everyday she says she already is and everyday the smile my grandpa gets on his face is the most beautiful heartfelt thing I have ever seen.
Upon release in a few years from my current federal sentence on bank robbery and weapons charges, I fully anticipate being able to stop at a gun show on my way home to Connecticut — where new laws have made it nearly impossible for a felon to readily purchase guns or ammunition — in order to buy some with which to resume my criminal activities.
And so, a heartfelt thank you to the NRA and all those members of Congress voting with them. I, along with tens of thousands of other criminals, couldn’t do what we do without you.” —Inmate in a Colorado Supermax prison, writing an open thank you letter to the NRA and Congress, published in the Hartford Courant. (via quickhits)
And then there’s Sansa. Sansa Stark who named her deadly, killer direwolf Lady. And she trained her to be gentle, and quiet, and sweet and loving. And then what happens? The Baratheons have her killed. So now Sansa is so alone, having lost her family, her home and her Lady. But she is the exact opposite of what her father said would happen to wolves who end up alone. Ned Stark said that the only way they could survive was to stick together, and that was never an option. Robb had their mother. Rickon and Bran had Winterfell and then each other. Jon is on the wall, with his brothers, and then across it with Ygritte, then back to the wall. Arya had Gendry, and is still linked to Nymeria. But Sansa has absolutely no one who is her family. So she takes the strength and poise of a lady, and turns it into something as deadly and defensive as a direwolf’s fangs and claws. She knows that she is alone, and that no one is coming for her, so she adapts. She plays the game, she keeps her mouth shut, she stays alive.
Because the best way to hide a wolf, to keep people feeling safe, is to make them think it’s just a well trained dog.” —echrai (via brain-food)
Thanks. I’m a mess, and it’s been a shitty few months. xoxox
I left my mother’s apartment for the last time today.
It’s the apartment I grew up in. My home. My neighborhood and my anchor.
It’s been two weeks. I found her unconscious in her bed a month ago today. This time on April 27th, I was sobbing hysterically while my husband drove home from the hospital, because while we were in the ER with her, I snapped.
It was the last time she was in a position to comfort me. She rubbed my back and I remember loving it, even though I couldn’t keep my shit together.
I miss her.