The Silent Treatment
by Missy Vinson
We don’t talk any more.
I talk all the time, but she never does. I wish she would talk to me. It’s been too many years since I heard her voice, so sweet and always so thoughtful. I tell her what I’m thinking ‘til I’ve come back around to the same ole stuff, and I don’t even get a softly sighed, “Uh-huh.” It’s been 8 years since we planted roots here, and I think she still resents me for that.
The kids are doing fine, though. They don’t visit as often as they used to, but at least one’ll come by on our birthday. Yup, it’s the same day! I knew she was the one for me when I realized I would have one less date to remember. Anniversary’s on Valentines Day. Pretty smart, eh? All the kids come by with their families at Easter. That’s the day for me! It’s coming soon. This is a grand spot for the hunt. The little ‘uns always tiptoe around Nana and me like we’re gonna break or somethin’. Ha!
It’d be nice to have some work for my hands, but I guess I’ve seen the end of that.
A root from elm the kids planted has begun to work its way into my box. My early annoyance for the critters has grown to interest these past few years. This is new. I’m excited to see what this little root does.
“Charlotte, looky there…”
Sometimes, I think she’s somewhere else.