with my grandmother. She looked so young, and her hair was no longer silver.
Instead, she had long, light brown hair that she wore loose. She was beautiful in
a long, sage green dress. I had forgotten how vibrant she could be.
I gasped when she walked through me as if I wasn't there. Of course, you aren't here. This is a memory, I chastised myself.
Calling out to my younger version, Gram laughed, “Come along, my little
dancer. Let's get your shoes on. We don't want you to be late for your guests.”
Running towards my grandmother, my young self crowed, “I have already
put them on. I even buckled them without help.”
"Why, yes you did, Marina.” I cringed at her using my full name. The name
my mother insisted on using, even though she knew I preferred the nickname Meg gave me. “Aren't you so smart." Gram opened her arms to welcome the child.
"Do you think I look pretty today, Gram?” Young Marina wrapped her arms
around Gram's neck and hugged her tightly. I felt a twinge of envy.
“You're always pretty, my love. You're what is most important - beautiful
inside and out.”
Gram set her down. Then, she held out her hand, and my younger version
clasped onto it tightly.
I followed them as they left the bedroom and moved onto the patio. I half-expected to see myself sleeping there, but the chair was empty. Continuing to follow as they walked outside into the backyard, I inhaled the smell of the fresh-cut grass. The familiar scent of wood chips drew my attention to Gramp's
workshop, which hummed with sawing and buzzing sounds.
I gasped in surprise as I saw over a dozen chickens and six cows grazing on
grass and feed. The animal life had dwindled long ago as everything fell on Gram, and it became too much to maintain. She gave up the responsibility and
chose, instead, to keep the vegetation.
Tall trees of a bright green were bursting with colored fruits, and the garden
was overfilled with vegetables of all kinds. Gram had a natural way with plants,
so much so that she made an arrangement with the local butcher, David Jones.
She would keep him stocked with produce in trade for meat.
Young Marina's giggles pulled me back from my thoughts. We had reached
the largest tree in the yard. Under the oak, a blue and white flowered picnic cloth
had been laid out. In the center, a teapot and a plate of biscuits had been set up.
Five small teacups, resting on saucers surrounded them, creating a ceramic
rainbow of colors.
Young Marina sat in front of the white cup, and immediately exclaimed,
“Raspberry tea biscuits! My favorite. Thank you so much!”
Gram kissed her cheek and said, “Have a nice tea party. I will check on you
later.”
I wanted to follow my grandmother, hoping she was going to Gramp. I
longed for one more glimpse of him. One more silly joke. One more warm hug.
However, I knew my wishes were foolish. I was here for the return of my
memories, not too long for what was gone.
Turning my attention back to Young Marina, I watched her fill her cup with hot
