Sunday's

My old grandma Douglas (my ma's ma) would tell me how much she hated Sundays.  I think those days were lonely for her.   Her life consisted of her little apartment and walking over to the drug store.  It was on the corner of Pima and Alvernon I believe, in Tucson.  That was back when drug stores would have a lunch counter.  So, as far as I can remember, my little granny would frequent that place at least once a day, but back then, it was closed on Sunday.  Remember when everything was closed on Sunday?  So, I can imagine how quiet and lonesome a Sunday would have been for her.  She didn't go to church, no friends really, and everything closed.  The quiet can sometimes can be too much for some people...I think it was for her.  It makes me sad to think of her back then.  When I came to college in '72 down here in Tucson, I was way too selfish to worry about her, I don't believe I gave her a second thought unless she invited me out for lunch.  How incredibly self absorbed I was, but then again, coming to the U of A was like breaking out of jail when I left Buckeye.  I was finally free.  What more can be said.  Just that I wish I knew back then what I know now.  I would be visiting my little granny every week, if  I only knew.