Memories

The other night I was lying in bed, unable to sleep, thinking about a memory that would calm the chatter in my head and relax me. It amazes me how I reach for the same memory each time I seek peace-my grandparents.

I thought of myself as a young girl (probably ten) in a white and blue floral dress, barefoot, hair in braids walking through their kitchen. I'm on my tip toes touching the magnets on the fridge, running my hand across the little table that sits under a window that lets in the most beautiful sun in the morning and where I ate breakfast often. Suddenly my feet are on the plush, soft carpet. I'm in the dining room. I run my hand across the newly polished table and touch the crystal candy dish being careful not to make a sound. I turn and see the living room. The TV is on and my grandparents are sitting in their familiar chairs-grandpa on the left, grandma on the right. I dance over, kiss grandpa on the cheek, he smiles. Then grandma gives me her hand and I lean in to hug her.

I smile as I remember this scene in my head and drift off to sleep with tears rolling down my cheeks, clutching the blanket she made for me over thirty-five years ago. I never knew my heart would ache so much for them. I often imagine they can see me, my children, and know how much I loved them.

In all my memories of my grandparents, the one that sticks out the most is how they always had a smile. Despite their illnesses or how they felt that day, they always welcomed us into their home with love. I hope as I battle my disease that I remember their strength. I hope that I am everything they imagined I would be. I hope my father knows how much of an impact he had driving me to his parents (my grandparents) house all those years ago and ultimately shaped who I am today. ~S