He doesn’t want to go for more than a week, but he is convinced Margaret would want the vacation to last as long as possible. He always thought of her that way, as Margaret, especially in his most uncharitable thoughts. Margaret is late….again. Does Margaret really need another cat when he’s the one who takes care of it? Couldn’t Margaret use the facilities fifteen minutes before they plan to leave the house?
(Photo by Emanuela Picone: https://unsplash.com/@emanuela)
She’d introduced herself as “Peg” all those years ago, and most everyone else calls her that, including their grandchildren to whom she is “Mama Peg.” To him, she is too bright for such a dull moniker. He just cannot bring himself to refer to her as “Peg,” which reminds him of the small wooden pins he uses as an artisan dollhouse carpenter. Pegs are mundane. She is quiet but loves loudly. She laughs at things no one else thinks are funny. She listens with curious generosity. She is the sun around which everything else orbits. So, to him, she remains, Margaret.
Margaret loves to go out, travel, and explore things she doesn’t recognize. He would rather stay home, curl up with the cat, and explore the world through one of the books his granddaughter sends him. He just cannot get comfortable sleeping in a bed that isn’t his own, worrying about the plants left to wither, and getting lost on roads he has not…
