Walking Through Cornfields

The walk through the field to your grandmother’s house felt longer than it was. Time slowed down and covered our bodies in honey as we felt the sun on our shoulders and flowers at our fingertips. I took photos of you on disposable cameras because I believed  you were made to live in the fields and forests.

Your grandmother didn’t speak a word of English but she could say ‘hello’.
She was a lively little woman with a charming smile. She gave us a loaf of bread and we picked potatoes from her garden for supper. You stayed to talk to her while i sat on the steps and waited. You came out with tears running down your cheeks and I think you were feeling a little ashamed to cry in front of me.

Don’t be ashamed of crying when you see your grandma – seeing someone care so much, to be that connected with their family is soulful and heartfelt. It made me wish I had a strong relationship with my grandparents. I feel like I missed out on some kind of unique love, but you had it, and I’m glad you did.

Later you said she asked ‘is he a nice boy?’, you replied with ‘yes, he’s a very nice boy.’

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