The other thing that made this trip possible was my grandparents. I'd received some money from the sale of my grandmother's house. It arrived in perfect time to catch the free fall.
It was more than the money, though, that made this journey possible. It was here at the Pink House that I started to notice something mysterious, or that something that previously seemed mysterious was starting to become real.
When I walked into St. Mary's in Maine, I was in awe of the blue glass. I took an enormous chance driving across the country to a rental I found on the internet. It was scary, but as soon as I entered and saw the blue glass, it reminded me of my grandmother, and I felt safe. And here, in Philadelphia, again to an apartment I'd never been to in a neighborhood I'd never heard of...blue glass.
When I walked into St. Mary's in Maine, I was in awe of the blue glass. I took an enormous chance driving across the country to a rental I found on the internet. It was scary, but as soon as I entered and saw the blue glass, it reminded me of my grandmother, and I felt safe. And here, in Philadelphia, again to an apartment I'd never been to in a neighborhood I'd never heard of...blue glass.
I never knew my grandmother well. I loved her New Jersey accent, homemade canned peaches, and the holly that grew outside her kitchen window. She had four kids and a red and white checkered cloth on her kitchen table. Perfectly content being at home, a grandma, no great dreams of travel.
But wait, how would I know? Do our outer worlds always reflect our inner worlds? Grandma, is this a trip you always wanted to take? Is the blue glass leading the way?
No comments:
Post a Comment