Memories

The memories reached out and pulled her in like drags against the statues in the courtyard, along with the day’s fading sunlight. Every evening, those memories were wrapped around jasmine vines with the light wrapping around her open heart.

Grandmother sat recall on years gone by when eyes were used more than the mouth. Clear, human eyes. Not ghosts and the blurred eyes of death.

Closed doors to the past were opened by each song being played softly from the radio. She never wanted to forget those moments; they were the defining moments of her life, and they left her with permanent impressions of lines and sadness deep in her face.

Grandmother recalled a summertime without clocks; she could measure the passage of time in the length of shadows and the sounds of children laughing. Those children were happy and had hope in their hearts. So many little people filled with love and kindness.

Passing through the marketplace, Grandmother would see people with whom she had a connection; you could see it in each other's faces when you exchanged hellos. It warmed Grandma's heart to see those faces because they were a part of her past, and their lives were all intertwined.

The smell of jasmine could be smelled in the evenings, and Grandfather would share stories as though the stories were going to last forever. Under the glowing moonlight, he would twirl the twists of his mustache and tell funny stories to his grandchildren, and they soaked up every single word.

Nostalgia does not bring sadness; it reminds you that there were moments of life that provided a great deal of meaning. Grandma has always had the key to her heart tightly wrapped in her loving palm.

Each wrinkle on Grandma’s face was a reminder of a time of laughter or hardship or little victories of life. The wrinkles on her face are a map of the ups and downs of life, all the frustrations and quiet fears she had to work through.

Grandma remembered the people who left her not with sadness but with appreciation for what they shared; those loved ones left with hands of compassion, and acted as if asking for her to hold onto life just a little longer.

The table in the kitchen has marks left behind from family dinners, and it was the table where many years of conversations were had, linking generations of families together. This table is a reminder of fairy tales and revolutions, of shipbuilders and pirates, of witches and fireflies.

There was a special atmosphere on Sunday afternoons: the smell of freshly baked bread and all the sounds of families filling the home with love. The scent of the bread was warm not only from the glow of the coal burning, but it was the bread baking and filling the entire house with the essence of love.

Grandmother understands that change is a part of life. The change in lifestyle will come and go. However, she believes the human heart will always remain a constant.

Grandmother has always had a gentle spirit within herself.

Grandmother holds memories close to her heart as if they are jewelry; she takes those memories and gives them to her grandchildren for teaching purposes, just as she takes her wedding band as the giving of love.

She teaches her grandchildren how important it is to be simple in life and to show love by small acts of kindness.

When the sun sets, Grandma sleeps with peace because she knows that she has lived her life with integrity.

The aroma of nostalgia is comforting, and it is an old friend who does not require any explanation or excuse for coming back into your life.

The eyes of those who are quiet and watchful hold the wisdom of life, and their precious memories will forever produce light in this world of darkness.

As darkness falls around the children of the world; Grandmother hopes children will someday realize what is important in their lives.

Life will come to an end; however, the moments of love that were true will continue to live through eternity.