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The fifth excerpt from the diary of an old woman, Martina. |
November 16, 1971 “Why do we have to go, mommy?” Angela asked tearfully. “Why can’t we stay here, with Marty?” “Because, sweetheart, don’t you want to get better?” Angela nodded slowly. “Yes, but I don’t want to go away to do it.” So grown up for her age, yet still such a child at heart, I thought as tears coursed down my cheeks. They were leaving. It seemed like they had just come into my life, and now they were leaving. I understood why, Angela needed a better hospital than our little town could offer. She looked at me, silently pleading with me not to let her go away from her home. I shook my head, hoping she understood that her mom and I just wanted what was best for her. I looked away, not able to look her in the eye anymore. The weather seemed to fit the mood. Even though it was technically still summer, the fog was rolling in, surrounding everything like a blanket. I could feel the cold seeping into my bones as we stood on my front porch. Bobbie had told Angela and I at the same time, not wanting to go through it twice. I looked back at Angela and she was still looking at me, not with the pleading look she had had before, but this time with resignation. |