I don't remember seeing Buzzy Thurston at my mother's funeral. I suppose stranger things have happened-although I can't, off the top of my head, think of an example. I remember keeping my eyes on Lydia's hands, gripping her wheel-chair-and on my grandmother's hands, toying with her brooch. either Owen or I thought was possible-and their nipples were blocked from view by the censor's black slashes.
It was the same look he then delivered to the congregation- oblivious to, if not contemptuous of, the gifts the wise men and the shepherds laid at his feet. That's Owen, this was pure Owen today. When Grandmother went to the Gravesend Retreat for the Elderly, she took her television set with her; when Grandmother died, she left the house at Front Street to Dan and me. That the clothes didn't fit Germaine was referred to as Germaine's fault.
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