golden memories
A Story by Cherrie Palmer
golden memories
Silence was broken by the sound of quick moving feet rushing down the lane and blowing up onto the porch.
“Child, slow yourself,” said the old woman. “Come sit with me and tell me of the day.” Her voice was a rich smooth southern drawl that could lull you right to sleep.
“Grand, little black clouds lace the sky. The day is warm and the breeze moves down the lane faster than my feet.” Anna said while dancing in place.
“Sit down here,” she patted to the seat next to her on the swing. “I’m blind not dead. I already knew those things.” She raised her head level with the horizon and offered a weary smile. “Anna, my love, I wanted to hear of the day from you. Must I tell you of the day, seeing how you can not see?”
“Grandma, you’re blind, how can you tell me?” The nine year old said with her feet swinging in the air.
“Silly girl," she said with a chuckle, "you’d be surprised about what I can see.” Lilly’s dead-eyes sparkled. Her love of life never drained from their prisms, a fact that Anna loved. For Lilly’s gaze was enchanting, her silver hair neatly tucked in a bun and lines of wisdom framed her face in warmth. “Well it has been cold for ten nights running. So the scrub oaks are a rich crimson red lining the ridge that stands before us. Pecan trees are trimmed in a soft yellow and their rich brown bounty hang by a thread. While the lumbering pines are ever-green. The creamy beige coat of the White Tale has turned to a mushroom brown just like the johnson grass.”
“Wow that’s amazing Grand, what else can you see?”
“I see my field of prairie grass in a muted auburn with a glint of gold. The breeze walks among it, mingling with the stalks. On bended knee they bow their backs and lower their heads. It is an offering to the Almighty, as wave, after wave raises them back up lifting their heads to heaven.”
“Why didn’t I see all of that?” Said Anna.
“You tell me, originally it was my question to you?”
“I guess I was too busy wanting a snack.” The girl said with a mile wide smile.
“Bring me something back as well” but before Lilly could say another word the whirl wind of youth ripped into the house, strawberry hair bellowing behind and eyes of emerald darting around corners.
Lilly is Anna’s great-grandma. Anna spends everyday after school with her. Her mother said she would outgrow these visits, but Lilly knows this bond will never break.
“Milk and a ham sandwich or cookies?” Belted the girl in an easy southern drawl all her own.
“Surprise me.”
“All three it is, then,” she half-way sang.
“Grand, tell me something, something good, something I’ve never heard before.” The girl settled down in hopes for a wondrous tale, of days long past. A hint of Grand's perfume made her feel all warm and happy inside.
“One day this place will be yours.” The words came out of the blue, they had a far away sound to them.
“This place will always be yours,” said the child, shaking her head as she spoke.
Lilly’s eyes twinkled and looked right through Anna. All of a sudden Anna’s eyes were flooded with tears, as the meaning of the words came clear.
“Oh Grandma, I will keep your house and yard the same, right down to the flowers.”
“You can keep me in your heart, but the home will be yours to do as you please,”
*** Twenty years later ***
Anna sat on the swing gazing over the field of prairie grass and a crossed the red tipped ridge. She slow sipped her coffee and snuggled up in her favorite quilt that still smelled of White Shoulders. Then she turned her gaze to the empty canvas and with paint-brush in hand she whispered. “Grand, let me tell you of the day.”
“Child, slow yourself,” said the old woman. “Come sit with me and tell me of the day.” Her voice was a rich smooth southern drawl that could lull you right to sleep.
“Grand, little black clouds lace the sky. The day is warm and the breeze moves down the lane faster than my feet.” Anna said while dancing in place.
“Sit down here,” she patted to the seat next to her on the swing. “I’m blind not dead. I already knew those things.” She raised her head level with the horizon and offered a weary smile. “Anna, my love, I wanted to hear of the day from you. Must I tell you of the day, seeing how you can not see?”
“Grandma, you’re blind, how can you tell me?” The nine year old said with her feet swinging in the air.
“Silly girl," she said with a chuckle, "you’d be surprised about what I can see.” Lilly’s dead-eyes sparkled. Her love of life never drained from their prisms, a fact that Anna loved. For Lilly’s gaze was enchanting, her silver hair neatly tucked in a bun and lines of wisdom framed her face in warmth. “Well it has been cold for ten nights running. So the scrub oaks are a rich crimson red lining the ridge that stands before us. Pecan trees are trimmed in a soft yellow and their rich brown bounty hang by a thread. While the lumbering pines are ever-green. The creamy beige coat of the White Tale has turned to a mushroom brown just like the johnson grass.”
“Wow that’s amazing Grand, what else can you see?”
“I see my field of prairie grass in a muted auburn with a glint of gold. The breeze walks among it, mingling with the stalks. On bended knee they bow their backs and lower their heads. It is an offering to the Almighty, as wave, after wave raises them back up lifting their heads to heaven.”
“Why didn’t I see all of that?” Said Anna.
“You tell me, originally it was my question to you?”
“I guess I was too busy wanting a snack.” The girl said with a mile wide smile.
“Bring me something back as well” but before Lilly could say another word the whirl wind of youth ripped into the house, strawberry hair bellowing behind and eyes of emerald darting around corners.
Lilly is Anna’s great-grandma. Anna spends everyday after school with her. Her mother said she would outgrow these visits, but Lilly knows this bond will never break.
“Milk and a ham sandwich or cookies?” Belted the girl in an easy southern drawl all her own.
“Surprise me.”
“All three it is, then,” she half-way sang.
“Grand, tell me something, something good, something I’ve never heard before.” The girl settled down in hopes for a wondrous tale, of days long past. A hint of Grand's perfume made her feel all warm and happy inside.
“One day this place will be yours.” The words came out of the blue, they had a far away sound to them.
“This place will always be yours,” said the child, shaking her head as she spoke.
Lilly’s eyes twinkled and looked right through Anna. All of a sudden Anna’s eyes were flooded with tears, as the meaning of the words came clear.
“Oh Grandma, I will keep your house and yard the same, right down to the flowers.”
“You can keep me in your heart, but the home will be yours to do as you please,”
*** Twenty years later ***
Anna sat on the swing gazing over the field of prairie grass and a crossed the red tipped ridge. She slow sipped her coffee and snuggled up in her favorite quilt that still smelled of White Shoulders. Then she turned her gaze to the empty canvas and with paint-brush in hand she whispered. “Grand, let me tell you of the day.”
