We used to walk home from school through a park.
One day, on a bench, we found a crocheted coin purse, handkerchief and eyeglasses. Grandmother-type things. We left them there.
We began visiting “Grandma’s Bench” after school, checking on our discovery. We shared stories about our grandmothers. Most true, some wishful.
“Mine makes slumgullion on Sundays.”
“Mine helps girls who don’t want babies.”
“Mine lets me drive her car.”
We stopped visiting after the items disappeared.
In my backyard today is seating where I invite guests to remember important people in their lives.
I call it Grandma’s Bench.
One day, on a bench, we found a crocheted coin purse, handkerchief and eyeglasses. Grandmother-type things. We left them there.
We began visiting “Grandma’s Bench” after school, checking on our discovery. We shared stories about our grandmothers. Most true, some wishful.
“Mine makes slumgullion on Sundays.”
“Mine helps girls who don’t want babies.”
“Mine lets me drive her car.”
We stopped visiting after the items disappeared.
In my backyard today is seating where I invite guests to remember important people in their lives.
I call it Grandma’s Bench.
