What a nice, relaxing time with Grandma and Grandpa.
Their house always smells the same: like home and peace and love.
Grandma always cooks piles of food and Grandpa always watches Fox News.
And I always savor it.
Evenings, in the living room warmed with a wood stove, listening to their tales of living during WW2, when everything was rationed. The perils of falling in love and threats for current love. Challenges and joys and favorite vacations and how Grandma’s favorite color is blue and how Grandpa’s favorite accessory is belt-buckles.
Go back in time. Tape-record it all so that every moment becomes a part of history that is integral to my being. Integral to me being me, Melissa.
Looking through pictures and making more candy than we could ever eat. Driving Ethel June and spending minutes at the beach staring into tide pools. No star fish, but I saw an anemone. Being drizzled on and loving it.
Feeling soft rain on your skin is proof that you are alive and alert to new senses.
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