Description: My Grandpa...

Journaling:

the smell of wet concrete coming through the front door. me laying on the couch watching the sun sparkle off of grandma's light prism. it's a sort of dreamland and i'm trying to take it all in. the ice cream truck is singing it's song and i'm wondering if my ears do indeed "hang low". it's a scary thought because when you're 15 nothing seems normal. the water is running through the pipes and i can hear cathy's clogs on the patio floor. she is always up to something! in the near distance grandma's sewing machine is creating something as beautiful as she is. i can see what you saw in this girl, she's amazing. the breeze is warm, so it must be summer. again the wet concrete smell. it is mixed with pine needles and the jasmine grandma keeps near the window. it is you outside watering. i wonder how many times you have done this. ever since i was a child it has been one of the most comforting thoughts. you are proud of your home and your family. you are giving me the gift of home. i wake up with a blanket draped over me, and i know it was you. you are always keeping things alive.
7-12-07

Thank you for looking! :)