
They say, that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, but laying in the tall soft grass out behind Grand’s the summer of my thirteenth year, I couldn’t imagine that could be true.
I hadn’t wanted to spend my first teenage summer, miles away from home, let alone with a grandmother I hardly knew. But, looking back on it now, it is one of the defining points of my youth.
That was the summer I became my father’s daughter. He was no longer just a picture on my mom’s dresser, but a very real man- in whose bed I slept, whose records I listened to, and whose adventures I shared- via the pictures painted for me by my Grand’s words, as we lay together in the cool green grass on those long hot summer days.
Days that will forever remain, the summer of my life.
Written for Crispina Kemp’s Crimsons Creative Challenge #19
That’s lovely. It tastes of the soft grass of summer.
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The grass in your photo just looked so inviting….
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I know what you mean. I sat on it, took off my shoes, squiggled my toes. And didn’t want to move on. 🙂
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Very soothing images generated by this story.
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Soothing images generated by a soothing image… Thanks, HRR.
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What a wonderful memory. I remember those summer days, lying in the grass and staring up at the clouds. Do children still do that? (K)
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If they do, It’s my bet they have a phone in their hands!!
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I love this, grandparents are such a gift.
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They sure are. Thank you for stopping in.
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This was a nice piece. I liked how it went from a fond recollection of a grandmother to getting to know a missing parent and back to the grandmother The most fortunate of us were able to know and appreciate their grandparents before it was too late.
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Memories, much like Grandparents are a very special breed.. Thank you Michael.
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Getting in touch with our roots. Lovely story Violet.
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Thank you, Len.
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That was beautifully done, Violet.
Sheesh. To think I looked at that picture and nothing came to me.
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Thank you, Dale. I wonder what it is about the way we are wired that allows us inspiration on some things, and nothingness on others?
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I don’t know. But I do love how one photo brings so many different stories!
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Me too! I love seeing other minds at work..
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😁
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these sound like cherished days, ones you will always look fondly upon
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This one is a work of fiction, but I never knew my father either, and I guess this kind of says I wish I had..
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we can live through our anguish and desperation in fiction, and be who and what we want for all those stolen moments, your words touch hearts. be brave dear heart, you have much love to share in you.
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And thank you, Gina for being here to share it all with me.
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Aww, a happy post. Was this about you?
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No. I never met anyone connected with my father, but if I had, I like to envision it might have gone something like this..
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❤ I wanted to be like my father, too.
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Violet this beautiful, us it true 💜
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Thank you, Willow.
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Pleasure 💜
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