Every few years, I pack up and leave home behind.
I leave my friends I’ve come to love, my job, my cozy apartment, everything… and start fresh.
Some places are harder to leave then others, but you get used to leaving little pieces of your heart behind.
And when you leave some of you behind, you are never really gone.
I don’t think
We feel the same.
Looking out the window,
I feel pain.
Everything is vibrant
Sharp around the edges.
Beauty
Color
Life
All in full swing
It’s beautiful
And unrelenting.
We watched the birds hop along the grass from her front porch. It was early in the morning so the grass was still wet and the air was cool. I picked up my oversized coffee cup and took a tiny sip.
Grandma always let me have coffee, even though my dad wouldn’t like it. We both agreed not to tell.
“There’s a stray cat that just won’t stay off my porch and it’s scratching up my chairs!” She said. I looked down and saw claw marks on the legs of all of her wicker chairs. “And your uncle feeds them! That’s why no matter how many times I chase them away, they come back.”
“Yeah,” I said, “once you feed them it’s over”
Her eyes softened then, she knew I loved those cats too. “It’s kind of him though, even when he knows I’ll give him hell, he still feeds those cats. It’s like when he sees them he just can’t help himself. He’s always been that way, trying to help everyone else.”
I sat back in my chair and brought my cup to my chest, the warmth felt good on my skin. “I know they tear up your furniture, but you’re right, he’s got such a big heart. Especially for animals.”
“Like you.” She said, as she watched the birds hop around the grass, still chasing dew drops.
As I sit on my front porch now, ten years later, I remember this simple moment with my grandmother who has now passed. I haven’t been back home since I heard the news, and it almost doesn’t feel real.
Little moments like this are what I remember most, and it’s what I’ll miss the most. Those lazy Sunday mornings watching the birds with grandma on the porch.
Now, when I sit on my own porch, watching the birds chase the morning dew, is when I feel closest to her. And when I leave out a bowl of food for those stray cats down the street, I know she’s shaking her head lovingly, and I remember her words.. “like you.”
Little Strange Anecdotes 