I went with my Mom to visit my Grandma today. This usually occurs most Sundays, and she doesn’t live too far away so that’s nice. We don’t do a whole lot of exciting things when we visit. We’ll sit on her porch if it’s nice out (like today, it was) and just talk about all kinds of things. We’ll go out to eat (today we went to King’s) and just spend some time all together.
I do like going and visiting. I enjoy updating her on my life and sometimes she’ll tell me some stories of when she was younger, which I think is cool to hear. Grandma’s house typically signifies good food, and some pretty fantastic Lifetime movie that is guaranteed to be on. I like her candy dishes she always keeps on the living room table. I like all the picture frames of my cousins, my parents and my aunts and uncles strewn around the various rooms of the first floor. I like that the bathroom door always sticks upstairs.
Her house is comforting, unchanged just enough to still be recognizable over the years. I always miss my Grandpap when I’m up there. We visited his grave today and saw a few daffodils growing, bright and yellow, like little bits of hope.