I anxiously got out of my car and proceed down the cobble stone path that leads to the front door. Almost immediately after pushing the little round door bell, my grandma was there to greet me with a smile of excitement, a big bear hug, and a loving kiss on the cheek.
Walking into the hallway, my mouth watered as I enlightened my nose with the scent of good ole' grams home cooking.
Ripping into the boxes, not caring where the pieces would land, although opening the first present wasn’t my greatest joy.
A Mature and well living elder woman, crept down our stairs, to see her grand children, and watched me open her gifts.
In the evenings light, my car rolls up the white gravel and creeps to a stop.
It has been eight years since I have last seen my beloved grandmother.
Grandma told me that she was out in the back yard and suggested I visit her.
She slowly turned and made her way to the back sliding door.
Slippers robe and a bright face, she rubbed me on the back and observed the trash my sister and I had made.
Times like these make me realize one thing I’m lucky.