Slice of Life –

I’m looking past the fence to the trees that have slowly crept closer and closer with each passing year, their branches and roots reaching for the open ground. Above the maze of trees the sun is angled perfectly, not yet casting long shadows along the grass. For now, the rays reach under the small back patio. Warming our skin perfectly. It’s a quiet moment. A still moment. My body molded into the patio chair, a comforting embrace. Breathing in the mid morning air, my mind hears my grandfather’s hymn. “I come to the garden… and He walks with me and He talks with me.” Except that afternoon He chooses to sit with me. I look to my right and my Nona’s white hair frames her creased face. Her humped back resting comfortably, with eyes half shut. Holding in her lap my daughter. Her tiny face bathed in sunlight, a joyful smile welcoming and soaking in each ray of warmth. My heart aches to remember moments like this. Instinctively my hand reaches across the gap and squeezes my Nona’s soft fingers. She doesn't move, except the subtle lines around her mouth lift. Minutes pass in silence as three generations of lives, stories, words, and movements, intersect and pause for just a moment.