Love Contrivance (11)

   
   "Love Contrivance (11)"
   
   I was exhausted, to the extreme; still, it was Grandma duty, a perpetual ritual of feeding and cleansing.  Anyway, after making her some apple-cinnamon oatmeal, followed by a hot cup of Maxwell House java, I rolled her wheelchair into the den; then, I turned off the possibility of any violent television shows or angry-speaking political shows, finding a family movie--so that she would not be stressed; furthermore, I put one of my newspapers under her feet, and began to cut her toenails--it was crusty work.
   So, after washing and sanitizing my hands, igniting the cherry on her long ass cigarette, and putting an ashtray in a targeted position, I caught my breath; next, figured I should do more, for I had a compulsion to make Grandma's life filled with the spirits of calm and mirth.
   So, breaking my back, or so it felt, I loaded her up in my monster Plymouth, cranked the Road Runner to life, and without proving my potent low-end torque out of the hole, I modestly cruised us to the local comic book shop, it having a Scooby-Doo van out front.
   Wanting the memories to be as close to eternal as I could craft, I unloaded Grandma, put her in her wheelchair, and got her to smile in front of the Scooby-Doo van; next, I snapped a picture, wondering what I would ever do without that lovely, old bird.