i AM my grandmother's grandson

the food and drink were amazing as always; the arizona cold was severly more than comfortable. warm. home. and after it all, a talk with my grandmother (most generous lady ever????) and my mother (most beautiful lady ever????) revealed that my parenthesis converge sometimes. we talked about the personal and the political over final beers of the night and it made me realize that: 1) our realistic political situation is dire, 2) relationships are trite and trying, but terribly sweet and ideal at a rare best, 3) the constant holds steady only in trust, which i have overarching with my family(friendsincluded), 4) broad political policy can sometimes mean nothing when interpersonal-interaction is mutually fulfilling, and 5) a smile means more than words in the same way that actions mean more than verbs. i love my grandmother more than she knows, and i don't know if that means i DON'T show it enough or i CAN'T show it enough; i feel, through the phone, that Brant agrees. i hope a paragraph explains more than a series of text messages can, and i'm sure that my hopes are confirmed as i smell (in my memory) buttery rolls my grandmother made. (and made only earlier today).