I don’t think I ever realized how much I enjoyed the serenity of my grandmother’s house, nestled between two bodies of water.
It’d been a while, me being away at school and everything, but I don’t think I could ever forget the way her face lights up when we walk in, when she finally has someone to actually talk to.
She shows us the new litter of kittens that came in the early spring, we convince her to stay out of the kitchen, and I can’t ignore her gorgeous flowers.
We eat like champions and top it off with her/my mom’s favourite dessert of yellow cake and chocolate icing, accompanied by the usual college interrogation [I know they’re just curious about my life but JEEEEZ sometimes it’s overwhelming] by the extended family that has now spread to my middle brother, especially as he released the news he’d be joining me in the fall.
It made me think about the time ahead, how when everything gets hectic I should stop and picture my grandmother’s, the small waves that lap against the pebbles and the gentle swans that wade across the creek like they own it, the way I can just roam around her acres far away from the traffic of the normal road, speeding down the long, continuous slope that is her driveway on a scooter. [Doing so, I’m reminded of the time I tried to walk a dachsund and ride a Razor at the same time. It didn’t go so well.]
I went home full of food, full of motherly love, and exTREMELY tired.