Christmas
When we were little we'd go to my Grandma's house for Christmas and Easter. Sometimes my dad would not go because he'd be busy working, and Grandpap would be there making ham with pineapple rings and cherries. He lived next door to grandma and died shortly after she did. I think my brother misses her more than anyone, including her only child, my mother.
I once snuck out of my house to walk to hers. I never made it. I got tired, but boy did I get far for being a little dude. I stopped at some house and asked how much farther it was. They called my mother who came and got me.
Sometimes I think I write this thing now just for me and no one else. I wonder.
1 Comments:
I remember that. You called Grandma and SHE called your mother and said, "don't be mad, he's fine..." :) It was probably 3 miles or so. The people were sitting on their porch and started talking to you....asked you if you wanted a drink...where ya' goin'? They knew you were too young to be tromping down a 4 lane highway for the hell of it. You were probably seven, as I recall. Maybe younger. Early summer evening... was just trying to figure out where you'd gotten off too. What you were up too.....taking the gas meter off the house again? Torching the skin off your hand again with matches and spray paint? You were a hand-full to say the least. Just remember what they say about 'pay-backs'. If it's true, you are in alot of trouble. But I still love talking to you almost every day.
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