This is where I grew up; the stream down the street from my Grandparents. I thought it was such a magical place. I loved spending weekends at their house, especially in the spring and summers. I was never one to be cooped up in the house for long, so I would spend most my time exploring the flora and fauna in their small village. I could spend hours up and down the creek beds, looking for crabs and frogs.
There are large willows along the water, where I got my name. It was a tree that captivated my attention. It wasn't like the dogwoods or oaks I would climb, but unique. They gave me shade on hot summer days, and hypnotize me with their swaying branches. I would tell them my secrets, and they would answer with a whisper of leaves. Maybe it was the dryads inside. I saw the magic in them, and they in me.
Some of the best memories of my pap were on that very wall in the photo. He would take my sister and I fishing, sometimes my cousins, too. He was sometimes impatient when my sister refused to bait the hook. She wasn't the tomboy that I was! But, he had his special way of talking and pronouncing things, singing silly songs and making me smile. It wasn't 'fishing,' for example, it was 'feeshing.' They aren't scissors, they're 'skissors.' Just the little things.
I remember one time, when he caught a particularly robust bass, he asked me to carry home. In my hands. While it was still all alive and wiggly. I made it about two steps, when I dropped the thrashing fish in the red dog gravel. He was more than a little annoyed. But, typically Pap doesn't stay mad for very long. I would give him the pouty lip, and the watery eyes, thinking he was about to yell as my dad would, but Pap just gave me a sideways glance, faux anger from the corner of his eye. Then, he would smirk, and I would smile in return. I would give everything I have to see that look again.
I think a lot about growing up with my grandparents, and how lucky I am to have lived so close to them. I was mostly a tomboy and just a touch girly girl, but I absolutely loved the time outside with pap. We walked at least five miles a day in the summers, and spent hours at the park, watching him drive golf balls back and forth.
They both passed on just this past May, and it's been difficult for my family. Winter is coming, and cannot spend much more time by the wall and under the willows. I know Mother Nature needs time to rest, and I need to turn within for healing. I look forward to the spring, though, when I can call on pap's spirit to join me on a walk. Sometimes, I feel such despair, but if mythology has taught me anything, I know hope lies just below.
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| Rest in peace, Pap. I hope you're fishing and playing golf. And goosing Gram ;) xoxo |
