Summerdays

 

Some memories and one regret.

No school, no homework, no need to do anything. Hot summer days,

playing cowboy and Indians, hide and seek between the bushes. Reading

all day long, eating all I could get. My grandma baked every day a new

cake, apple pies or plum cakes, dinner with wine, juicy ripe tomatoes

from the market. Sitting up a tree, being all by myself. Playing chess

with my grandpa. Collecting mushrooms and blackberries with grandma and

grandpa in the woods. The mosquitos just bit my sister, what a joy. Not

to forget the big lake down the hill, here I learned how to swim. Also,

my first love. I was shy and kept my feelings secret. We laughed a lot.

Her smile came with two dimples.

The years went by. I became a father myself. Occupied with my life, I

forgot about my grandparents. The following years I just visited them

twice.

The last time I saw my grandfather he had had stroke, and lost his

speech. He seemed to be so mad at himself.

Years later, grandmother´s apple pie again. In the bookshelf an urn. It

contains the ashes of grandfather. Grandmother keeps a lovebird for

further company. She tells me about Buddha, and I don´t listen.

Summer is gone now, and I didn´t say goodbye to grandma and grandpa.

(images from my ongoing long term project ” family album”)