it feels silly, but being in this place makes me want to wrap myself up in some old blankets and wallow in the utter grief I still feel over being in a place that was once my grandparents without them here.
I don't possess a great deal of memories of them here, but they are still present in nearly every nook and cranny. It even still smells like them.
This coming July they will have been gone for ten years. It feels like both more and less time than that has elapsed. From an emotional standpoint, I have not grown at all in that time frame, but I have changed in most every other way a person can.
Ten years... I think what may disturb me most is that I am sleeping on the same set of sheets I slept on when I came to visit in March of 2000. Sentimental or not, surely it is time these linens were retired. Then again, their presence here brings me an unfounded sense of comfort... as if somethings never change. As if I can squeeze my eyes shut tight enough and go back in time to one of those mornings in March, when I could hear my grandparents moving around outside my door. I lay awake wondering how long it would be before they tried to rouse me and just what they would have in store for that day. I can almost hear their hushed whispers and smell the coffee brewing.
I may have come to Florida on my own, but I have come to realize that I will never be here alone.
I don't possess a great deal of memories of them here, but they are still present in nearly every nook and cranny. It even still smells like them.
This coming July they will have been gone for ten years. It feels like both more and less time than that has elapsed. From an emotional standpoint, I have not grown at all in that time frame, but I have changed in most every other way a person can.
Ten years... I think what may disturb me most is that I am sleeping on the same set of sheets I slept on when I came to visit in March of 2000. Sentimental or not, surely it is time these linens were retired. Then again, their presence here brings me an unfounded sense of comfort... as if somethings never change. As if I can squeeze my eyes shut tight enough and go back in time to one of those mornings in March, when I could hear my grandparents moving around outside my door. I lay awake wondering how long it would be before they tried to rouse me and just what they would have in store for that day. I can almost hear their hushed whispers and smell the coffee brewing.
I may have come to Florida on my own, but I have come to realize that I will never be here alone.
No comments:
Post a Comment