A Girl With Grandfathers

There’s a place out there, at the edge of day, where love waits. Straddling two worlds, old and new, still here, we walk.

My grandmothers have gone. Ahead.

The sound of our voices and the feel of arms, gathered up in hugs, the gentle brush of lips on cheeks, never more precious as now in these moments with grandfathers. Every story, every laugh, every lesson, every single little word pure gold.

I never expected to find myself here. In these days without grandmothers. Holding on tightly to one another, to all that remains. And yet there is peace as conversation fills the space and I learn how to plant tomatoes and how to pick okra. I memorize the recipe for pickles and recount how to make stew, my grandfather’s stew.

I close my eyes to the constant tick of the clock as it fills the silent places. I open my eyes to the sound of the Grand Ole Opry. From my grandmother’s chair, I look over at the chair next to me. Remote control in hand, he smiles at me, pleased with himself. I smile back. He turns to watch the television.

There isn’t a place on earth I’d rather be right now, nothing I’d rather be in this moment right here than my grandmothers’ granddaughter… a girl with grandfathers.