A Sunday Afternoon At Grandma's and Grandpa's

I unexpectedly found myself with a free day. After a quick kayak in a local river I made myself a lunch of cheese, grapes, bread, salami and beer and went for a drive. I had no particular place in mind, I just did not want to be at home and I wanted to be alone with my thoughts.

As I drove I found myself near the town where my grandparents lived. I loved my grandparents dearly and still miss them. As I drove down the road where they lived I thought about the terrorized little boy I once was who sought refuge in his grandmother's cooking and his grandfather's company. I thought about waking up to the smell of cooked bacon and the rustle of the newspaper as my Grandfather read his morning Boston Herald American. I thought about the day trips to the beach and to Plymouth and the Cape. I thought about sitting next Grandpa in the sewing room eating vanilla ice cream while watching the Red Sox. I thought about laying in bed at night while listening to my Grandpa in the next room fight German soldiers in his sleep. But most of all I thought about feeling safe, and comforted, and loved by my grandparents and how very much I miss them.

As I sat and looked at their house I thought about the boy I was and the man I now am. I have no idea how or why things turned out the way they have. Not that I want a chance to do things over again...but looking at that yard...and the spot where my grandfather used to sit...I would give much to be a little boy again, playing in their yard...if only for an afternoon.

Sitting here in my home...in my grandfather's old chair...I realize why I found myself in front of my grandparent's old home. I wanted to be where I experienced unconditional love and acceptance, where I was taken care of, and where I was free to be myself. I would give much to be a grandson again if only for an afternoon.