August 2, 2020

A Westmuir Summer

A Westmuir Summer

Waking up inside a bright inferno meant it was summer. For a moment confused as the rising sun illuminates the orange curtains. A fleeting panic before remembering where I am. Then a stretch and satisfied sigh. I listen through the silence for the sound of her. She's lighting the fire. I imagine our day. Picking berries. Shelling peas. Dressing up. Chopping wood. Playing dominoes. Delving into the car box, picking one and taking it outside to explore the garden. A trip to the wee shop to get sweets from the penny tray. Our day punctuated by the smells of something being baked. The glorious smells stopping us in our tracks, demanding our attention. Our impatience waiting for fairy cakes to cool. Whatever we do today, I know we’ll laugh. And I know your smile will warm me. The sun that woke me that morning casts a shadow of regret. Gran, I wish I'd loved you then as I do now.