First: My family began gathering at my father's hospital bed yesterday. It's an estrogen pit, and as strange as anything television producers dream of for reality shows. I am not in the mood to parade the colorful characters right here and now; maybe later. It's disquieting to being thrown in a very small room together and noting which of us fed Daddy (my sister was remarkably patient, being such a Type A non-nurturer by nature); who combed his hair on this last day before they shave it for brain surgery (most of us); and who grabbed the plastic urinal for Daddy first (none of us - we all yelled for the nurse). We're very imperfect but are all on our best behavior, because this is a serious surgery.
It all starts over again in an hour.
Second: I recommend Alice Walker's essay which appeared on alternet.org this week:
http://alternet.org/election08/80898/
NTD
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