"Should I bring dessert? Fat Tuesday," she texted.
I responded, "Or as Alice would call it--
Regular Tuesday."
It's a big ol' bunch of sun here.
I'm totally distanced from what the day is usually.
The huge majority of my elementary school classmates
talking about giving up potato chips.
The ball of grey clay in the February sky.
The paczkis. The Pollacks of Chicago.
I get those cheese and strawberry-filled confections confused
with the best holiday for Mr. Pulaski and confused
with the road, stretching across the suburbs.
Last year this day I was in the hospital
with family. Coming together to love a loved one.
We hovered over my late aunt.
The nurses hovered as well, all of them with dark skin
and ashed faces.
Smudges that reflected in the huge windows of that room.
Ornament on Christmas tree in IL.
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