V drifts into talking about generations. How grandparents and grandchildren so often get along very well. Remove one generation--twenty-five years at least--and the anger in both directions dissipates. All the failed expectations and betrayals become cleansed by an intervention of time. Resentment and bitter need for retribution fall away. Love becomes the operative emotion. On the old side, you're left with wrinkled age and whatever fractured, end-of-the-line knowledge might have accrued. Wisdom as exhaustion. And on the other side--which V still remembers with molecular vividness--youth and yearning and urgency for something not yet fully defined. Undiluted hope and desire. But by fusing the best of both sides, a kind of intertwining consciousness arises--grandmother and granddaughter wisdom emerging from shared hope, relieved of emotions tainted by control and guilt and anger. --I'll assume you're right, James says. But I wouldn't know much about long family relationships. When I was