Yesterdays

Yesterday I woke to the sound of frogs chirping, the breeze blowing through Cedars, Dogwoods and Pine trees. Yesterday I woke to the smell of Honeysuckle and the feel of humidity against my skin. Yesterday I walked outside to my favorite porch for the last time and looked over the clean garden rows I worked all week with my Grandmother and watched the dogs frolic around in the turned-under fields.

Today I woke in California, to the sound of cars passing by on the street behind my house. The air was dry and my skin parched. I lay in my bed a long while, imagining myself back again, walking across the field to from my Gram's house to my Aunt's, toes sinking into the sandy earth, throwing a stick for the dogs to fetch and humming country songs to myself.

My Grandmother is 81. She's made her peace and is waiting...

It is hard to leave people you love, knowing it may be the last time you see them.

 Gram's Garden on the edge of the empty back field.