I remember Grandma mostly for the arguments we never had.
She was an immigrant widow who claimed things were better back where she started.
I would angrily think on everything people sacrificed for the right to build dreams on this soil, but I’d bite my tongue on my response: “So go back.”
“Things were better where I started.” I said today, and was glad for the times I did not speak, because now I know.
Some places can’t be gone back to, once you leave–
no matter how promising the soil,
or how loved the person
who rests in it.
I’m participating in StoryADay, but it looks like I’ll be blogging without a computer so I’ll be going on my own timeline. This is Day 3’s challenge to write a 100 word post.
Have you been up to any writing challenges lately?