my great-grandmother
just died and before
she gave me catch-22
to read. i never did
read it but while we
were in the hospital
one day i told her i
had read it. i liked
it, i said. though i
didn’t realize it at
the time i know that
it was such an awful
lie to make. but you
know, i knew how she
would be happy, when
i told her that. and
i thought it that it
was very important i
tell her that. very.

she said when she gave me her old
copy, “if i am down, this is what
i read to be cheered up.” and, i-
i said thank you, i said i’d read
it, i said i was looking towards,
waiting for the chance to read it
after i finished my current book,
i said, i’ll read it. and i never
did. i never read catch-22, ever.

but i am not sad yet: i keep waiting, and nothing
comes out. the rest of my family is devestated or
what-have-you, afraid of us falling apart because
she always kept us together but i am sitting here
just thinking that it doesn’t feel real. my uncle
reads a letter from another family that was there
in icu near us about how great she was, even near
death, and i can only think that it wasn’t really
right she was taken like this. that is all i will
think for hours. i never cry. i don’t feel sad. i
wonder, have i merely accepted death? have i just
recognized what always has been and what must be?
i think this is foolish because why can’t we all?
why can’t we all do that. i know they aren’t dumb
or anything. but why don’t i feel? i want emotion

catch-22 is on
my bookshelf i
remember. it’s
waiting. just,
when will i be
sad? can it be
sometime soon?