Saturday, January 25, 2014

Five Minute Friday: Visit

Five Minute Friday
It's that time again.
1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you and encourage them in their comments.
Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..
FMF: Todays prompt: visit

Visiting my memory today of some favorite visits. I could not think of just one to write about.

Visiting my grandparents in the mountain cabin. Looking at the clouds laying in foot after foot of snow. Snowmobiles and fire pits that burned several feet deep while watching races. Playing in the woods. Finding the old treehouse. Walking the tracks with grandma and grandpa, picking up glass bottles and arrowheads. Swinging on the rope and 2x6 swing hanging from a tree limb. Playing in the creek.

   

Visiting my grandparents in a trailer in town after they'd moved to be closer for doctor visits and out of the snow. Them getting more fragile, but telling stories we were old enough now to understand. Grandma understanding short bank accounts and handing over the silver coins to be melted into wedding bands. Grandma went first, out of the pain of this world, and to a place so much easier to breathe. Grandpa giving up, visiting soon became the job of caring for while he would dream of days from his youth and chasing chickens out of the house and days when grandma was still here and by his side. He fought our efforts to prolong his life. He missed her. Then he too was gone.

   



Visiting the graves of those beloved, getting advise from the grave. I swear to this day that I had heard her voice telling me to get back home where I belonged. Visiting the windswept hill where we laid their bodies, asking questions that we would never have answered. And missing them as the tears flowed.

    


Visiting back through time with photographs of all the fun we had, the days they would sit and play cards or just talking with the smoke filtering around them. Remembering as I look at one picture where I sit with my head on grandpas chest, how his voice rumbled from deep down, and how comforting that was. Pictures of grandma surrounded by others, so many times laughing at this story or that. And always feeling loved.

          



Stop.

So many visits... too many to count in such a short time.

1 comment:

  1. What a blessing to have known such love and acceptance!

    ReplyDelete