Speaking of Fathers . . . This one was Grand

me and poppop

I can envision so clearly my grandfather sitting on the couch.  Me sitting behind him on the back of the couch.  Reaching into his front shirt pocket, next to his eyeglass holder and pen and grabbing his comb.  I would comb his gray hair and he would do a crossword puzzle.  I would give him a mohawk, a side part and bangs.  And he gave me his time, his smile and his love.

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About the.way.i.bee

Mother, Wife, Healer, Hopeful Suburban Homesteader. . . Words are my mind's tools; writing, my soul's craft; this circus of life, my heart's muse.
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